Gage
I should just pull back and let Luke take over.
Here in Shyann’s truck, the scent of her rain-soaked skin intensifies and surrounds me in the smell of her fruity girl shampoo along with a lingering hint of stale booze and smoke. After tonight I’m wondering if I misjudged the woman. Maybe she’s safe? I peer over at her from the corner of my eye and internally slap myself for being a dumbass.
Who the fuck am I kidding.
She’s a walking, talking, hell-on-wheels threat to everything Luke has managed to build here. A few weeks ago he’d never step foot into a bar, drink himself dizzy, and risk touching a woman, but that’s exactly where I found him. What’s worse is this agonizing tingling in my chest, the constant weight in my balls, and the throb of rushing blood that aches to touch her is driving me insane.
All bad.
Every-fucking-thing about this woman screams danger of epic proportions. A woman only has the power to destroy you if you give it to her.
That’s not gonna happen.
Not on my watch.
The truck bumps through puddles of mud, and the visibility through the rain and the dark is next to zero. I grind my teeth. Sitting bitch in this truck, being driven by a woman like I’m some kind of invalid, I should cut my own balls off for the offense. I’d grab her by the throat and make her pull over if I thought she’d listen. Experience has proved she won’t.
And I can’t fight with her because her resistance makes me hard. It makes me want to break her, tear her down piece by fucking piece to make her compliant. That smart mouth, fake confidence she hides her terror behind, it’s all hot as hell.
Damn her for making me feel something, anything.
Yeah, I don’t want to fight with her.
I just wanna get the fuck out of the car.
I should’ve let Luke take over back there. Should’ve backed off and let him stumble through the rest of the night, but he’s not strong enough to fight this witch’s spell.
He’s not.
But I am.
She clears her throat. “Can I ask you something?”
“No.”
“Why not— Oh, wait. I don’t care.”
“Then stop talk—”
“Where’d you get the scar from?” So matter of fact when she’s asking something personal and none of her fucking business.
“Shark attack.”
“Oh yeah? I hear those San Bernardino sharks are insanely vicious.”
Don’t smile, you fucking pussy.
“It’s cool. You don’t have to tell me. I’ll ask Lucas.” There’s a hint of challenge in her voice. A tone that says, Dare me.
“He won’t tell you either.”
She shrugs and her headlights shine on the cabin up ahead as we round the corner. “We’ll see,” she whispers.
I hide my smile into my shoulder. He might be able to tell her how it got there, but he can’t share details because he wasn’t there the night we got the scar.
I was.
I remember the entire thing, details etched into my mind like tattoos, imprinted and worn as a reminder to never forget.
Never trust.
And always keep my mouth shut.
She puts the truck in park but leaves it running. “How about this…”
I check her out from the corner of my eye, intent on keeping my eyes forward because, like Medusa, looking directly at her turns my dick to stone, and frankly I don’t need that shit right now.
“Tell me why you protected me from Dustin—”
“Fuckin’ hell.” I shake my head.
“…and why you didn’t want to leave me alone with Sam.”
“This again.” This bitch is like an alien, constantly probing my shit. “Let it go, Shy—”
“Why won’t you just answer me?”
Why? Because I don’t fucking know!
“Come on, Gage.” Defeat laces her words. “I think I’ve proven I’m not a threat to you. I could’ve had you, er Lucas, arrested. Twice.” Her hand absently rubs her neck and I swing my gaze away to try to lessen this stupid weight in my chest at seeing her do it. She hasn’t the slightest idea of the power her femininity wields, luring poor saps like Luke into her arms only to crush and destroy them.
A low growl gurgles in my chest and my hand flexes around the door handle. I could tell her to fuck off and walk away. I’m going to tell her to fuck off and walk away. I don’t owe her shit.
“Gage—”
“That’s why.”
She blinks and looks around, as if the cab of the truck hides the answer she’s searching for. “Wait…what’s why?”
Dammit to shit in a fuck basket!
“You protected him, all right? That’s why.” Laughter completely absent of humor falls from my lips. “Trust me, it wasn’t something I thought about. It just happened.” She reeled me in like all the other poor bastards, something I’d hoped I’d never have to admit.
She chews her lip. “So…when Dustin was teasing you, and when Sam was all over you—”
“You defended Luke and you’ve kept our secret. Used your body as a shield to protect him. I just”—Fuck this shiiit!—“reacted.”
There, I said it.
“Wow.” I don’t have to look over to know her lips are fighting a satisfied grin; I can hear it in her voice. “That was really sweet of you, Gage.”
I swing my gaze to her, using the bill of my hat as a barrier against the full force of her face, penetrating stare, and soul-sucking smile. “Right? Now take it for what it’s worth and fuck off.”
Jerking open the car door, I storm out into sheets of rain, heading for the shelter of the cabin.
“Have a good night, Gage!” She’s laughing.
That bitch! She thinks she got to me, that she’s won?
I toss a middle finger over my shoulder. “Go to hell!”
Her giggle is the last thing I hear before I slam the front door behind me.
Twenty-Three
Lucas
The sun is barely up and I still haven’t gone to sleep.
Last night, sometime around one in the morning, I came to standing in my kitchen. My hands braced on the counter and I was looking out the window as wave after wave of rain pummeled the earth outside.
I had no idea how I got there, no clue what happened after I blacked out. The only thing I knew for certain was Gage had come back.
He surfaced when a woman was kissing my neck. It’s happened before, started back when I was living at a halfway house after I was released from the detention center.
Most seventeen-year-old boys would welcome a woman’s touch. Sexual experimentation should’ve been on the top of my to-do list. But there hasn’t been a single woman whose touch I could stomach. Not one I could trust. Who didn’t abuse me or cast me out to be eaten alive by the system. None of them cared about me, not then, not until Shyann.
Using one of my fine-tip chisels, I put the finishing touches on the mantelpiece. I told Mr. Jennings I’d have it by the end of the week; technically it’s Sunday, so I’m late, but Gage’s appearance lately has set me back.
God, what did he do last night?
It’s possible I no longer have a job or that he outted us at the bar, and now the entire town will chase me away with torches and pitchforks. But something inside, some deep-seated knowing tells me I’m okay, something I’ve never felt after blacking out in the past.
It’s almost ten in the morning when I’m finally satisfied with the piece. I take a quick shower, forgo shaving—even though the stubble makes the bald skin of my scar under my jaw more noticeable—and throw on a pair of jeans, a white T-shirt, and my work boots.
I’m sure after all the commotion yesterday with the McKinstry house being vandalized that Mr. Jennings will be in his office dealing with insurance companies and police reports.
The quick ten-minute drive takes twice as long as usual. With the large mantel in the bed of my truck, I drive much slower to keep it fro
m knocking around on the uneven dirt roads. When I pull up to the small portable, I don’t see Mr. Jennings’s car, but I see Shyann’s.
My heart kicks triple time. She probably knows what Gage did last night and even with this newfound peace that my secret hasn’t been exposed I won’t know for sure until I talk to Shyann. I drop from the truck and jump up the steps.
I suck in a breath before heading inside, steeling myself mentally and emotionally before I set eyes on Shyann.
My gut flutters, proving my preparation pointless.
She has a cell phone pressed to her ear and holds up one finger to me.
I resist the urge to stare too long at her silky hair and full lips and instead drop down into the chair opposite her.
“I heard what you said, but I don’t need your help.” She sounds frustrated. Annoyed. “Just because you don’t see the point of Oregon doesn’t mean it’s not a smart career move.” She huffs out a breath and her chair squeaks. “Of course I researched it. It’s not like I just c-closed my eyes and pointed and thought, ‘Oh h-hey, I’ll move to Oregon!’” She slumps in on herself a little.
She’s moving? To Oregon? That excited fluttering in my gut turns to solid weight, crushing me with disappointment.
“Trevor, please, spare me the lecture on…Yeah, I know. Fine. I’ll talk to you later.” She doesn’t wait for whoever is on the other line to even say goodbye before tossing her phone across her desk.
Trevor? Ex-coworker Trevor?
“Hey, Lucas.” Her eyes are bright, smile perky, and all hint of irritation wiped clean. I relax a little. “How are you feeling this morning?”
“Oh, um…” I do a quick inventory. “Tired, a little headache. Other than that I’m okay.”
“Good.” She leans forward, her forearms resting on the desk, sending a cascade of ebony hair down her chest. “Remember anything?”
“No. But you’re still speaking to me, so I’m guessing things were okay?” I frown and shake my head. “I was, I don’t know, kinda hoping you could fill me in?”
When I woke up, I scented a musky perfume on my sweatshirt. I’m hoping Gage didn’t take advantage of a woman with Shyann around. Hope he’d respect my feelings for her enough to keep himself under control.
“You and Cody went to Pistol Pete’s.”
I remember that.
“Sam, the woman Gage hooked up with before…”
I nod.
“She came back for more. She was getting pretty forceful. I told her to back off. She wouldn’t…”
All sounds familiar.
“So Gage stepped in to help out.” She flashes a hesitant smile.
“Did I…Did anyone get hurt?”
“No. Unless you mean ego. In that case, yes.”
My chin drops to my chest. “Who—”
“Don’t worry, Lucas. Most important thing right now is that you’re safe, Gage is safe, and I’m still the only one aware of your secret.”
“And us?”
“Yeah, we’re good.”
I exhale long and hard, relief calming my heart rate and my tense muscles. “Thank you. So, you still talk to your ex-coworker?” I suck in a breath at my own accusatory tone.
She drops back with a sigh. “Trevor was…” She groans and rubs her forehead. “How can I explain this without it making me sound bad?”
“Can’t be worse than what you know about me.”
“Trevor and I…he was kinda—”
“Your boyfriend.” My stomach twists and my fists clench.
Her clear blue gaze meets mine. “No, but…kinda. We hung out off and on but it wasn’t anything serious.”
“And now?” It’s none of my business, but I can’t keep myself from wanting to know.
She chews her lip. “Hmm…now he still feels like he can tell me what to do even though I don’t work under him anymore.”
“He was your boss?”
“No, but he was my producer. I…uh…I worked in broadcast news for, like, a second before coming back to Payson. Trevor and I met in school. We had similar goals, so naturally we gravitated to each other, but we never had an emotional connection, if that makes sense.”
I blink, thrown by the new information. “You were a reporter?”
“I wanted to be.” She tilts her head, studying me, and I force a casual expression, trying not to give away my building anxiety.
Her probing questions, inquisitive eyes, of course she’s a reporter. Is it possible she knows about me? It was years ago; she would’ve been in grade school at the time, but the story made national news. No, she was too young. Besides, if she did know, she’d know better than to be alone with me.
“If you wanted to be a reporter, why are you here, working for your dad?” She’s the most beautiful and driven woman I’ve ever known, and there’s no way she couldn’t be a reporter if that’s what she wanted.
“I got let go. Stupid, really. I let my emotions cloud my judgment. Now I’m no longer hirable in the industry.” She shakes her head and waves me off with a sad smile. “Anyway, enough about—”
“You’re moving to Oregon?”
The air between us grows tense and she stares for a few beats before breaking eye contact to fidget with a pen. “Um…that was the plan.”
“Was…?”
Her gaze swings to mine and for the first time since I’ve known her she seems unsure. She wrings her hands together. “I don’t know what I’m going to do now.”
I stare silently, praying for the courage to ask what she means by “now.” Is it even possible to dream she’d stay in town? My heart pounds furiously in my chest when I realize I can’t willingly let her go. “Stay.”
Her eyes widen and her lips part.
I clear my throat. “I’m sorry, I—”
“It’s okay, Lucas. Things have been…” She blows out a heavy breath. “Crazy since we met. I planned to jump at the first opportunity to get out of here, but things have changed and I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“Changed how?” The words fall from my lips on a whisper and I dare to hope for things I don’t have a right to.
“I met you.”
My breath catches in my throat. “Shy, no—”
“Don’t list all the reasons why we won’t work, Lucas. I know them all.” She taps her index finger to her temple. “They run on an endless loop up here.”
I’m broken.
Unstable.
Dangerous.
Her palm presses to her chest. “But what I feel here, when we’re together, makes me believe anything is possible.”
I swallow the lump forming in my throat. “Gage, he hurt you…If anything ever happened to you, I’d never be able to live with myself.”
She leans forward, both forearms on the desk. “Last night Gage had every opportunity to hurt me and he didn’t.”
“That doesn’t mean—”
“Don’t you see what’s happening? He’s starting to trust me. You’re starting to trust me.” She pushes up from her seat, rounds the desk, and props a hip on its edge. “Gage is your protector, right?”
“I…yes.”
“So all I need to prove is that I’m no threat and he’ll leave us alone.”
I adjust my baseball hat to avoid looking at her. This is all too much, more than I deserve. I should say no, push her away, go back to ignoring her completely, but she’s offering more than I could ever hope to dream for.
Everything she says seems logical. If there’s no threat, there will be no Gage. But what if she’s wrong? Emotion isn’t subject to logic. Gage has the capability to leave death and destruction in his wake. He’s done it before. He could do it again.
I do my best to push the past from my mind.
It’s selfish; it’s more than selfish—it’s cruel—but even still, I want her. “Okay, I’ll try.”
She lunges at me and wraps her arms around my neck.
“Thank you, Lucas.” Her breath skates along my skin and my hands grip th
e armrests to keep from crushing her to my chest.
Seconds pass and a palpable heat builds between us. The joints in my hands ache as I refuse to release the chair and finally she pulls back, her neck flush and smile shaky.
Her focus zeroes in on my lips and then darts to my eyes, as if she’s asking permission. I groan in blessed agony as the pull to her is just as powerful as my instinct to flee. Locked in the innocence of her gaze, I remain still as she presses a closed-lipped kiss to my lips. “Okay?”
I suck in a hesitant breath. “I’m good.”
“See? It’s working already.” She steps back and props a tight denim-clad hip against her desk, putting the needed distance between us before I lock my arms around her and refuse to let her go.
“Shy, just promise me if things get…if they get to be too much…promise me you’ll stay away.”
“Lucas, I—”
“Promise me!” I cringe, lean forward and rest my head in my hands. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to yell at you. I just need you to promise me you’ll stay away from me if Gage becomes…too much.”
She crouches down in front of me and peeks up with tenderness. “I’ll promise, Lucas, but only if you promise me the same. If at any time what we have causes you too much stress, you walk away. Okay?”
A humorless laugh bursts from my lips. “That’s the problem, Shy. Don’t you get it?” I dare a touch, reach forward and run a strand of her silky black hair between my fingers. “I can’t. I’ve tried, and…” I lick my lips and force the words from my mouth no matter how pathetic they may make me sound. “You’re impossible to walk away from.”
Shyann
I blink. For the first time in as long as I’ve been alive I’m rendered speechless.
He feels it too.
This whole time I’ve tried to talk myself out of wanting him, listed all the reasons—and there are plenty—why I should just forget about Lucas and focus on my plan to leave Payson, but as much as I’ve tried, I’ve failed.
You’re impossible to walk away from, too, Lucas.
I roll the words around my mouth, staring into his eyes that have never looked more unguarded. The words freeze in my throat, because the fact is staying with Lucas means living in a town that, given enough time, will eat me alive and spit out my bones.
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