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Avalanche

Page 12

by Cambria Hebert


  If I’d only said something. If only…

  “I was going to assure you I’d make it work. I was going to vow it.”

  I made a sound.

  His eyes bounced between mine, his stare so open and sincere.

  “I thought you lied to me,” I whispered. “I thought you’d said what I wanted to hear to get what you wanted.”

  “No, baby. I wouldn’t.”

  “I’d heard all the rumors about you. Everywhere I went, the staff was talking. Gossiping. I’d seen that girl around. I’d seen her hanging on you. I—”

  “I tried to call you after you went back to California.”

  “I didn’t answer.”

  “I know.”

  “You gave up,” I whispered, sorrowful.

  “I did.”

  Abruptly, he let go of my face and tugged me into his chest. I fit perfectly. His body formed around mine like a glove. I shuddered as I was battered with emotions and feelings.

  “I never should have given up.” He moaned into my ear.

  Clutching the front of his T-shirt, I buried my face. Liam pulled me away, and I tried to curl back into him.

  “Bells.”

  I lifted my chin.

  “I never stopped loving you. Never. Even when I tried.”

  “Me either,” I murmured, rubbing the place above my heart.

  Liam palmed my chin with one hand and pushed it up, descending upon my lips in a single motion.

  If I hadn’t believed his words, his kiss couldn’t lie. It was the kind of kiss that left you naked, the kind that whispered directly into your heart. His arms clutched me so close it was as if we were one body. His fresh snow scent rose and wrapped around me, making me feel claimed and protected all at once.

  It was a completely inappropriate kiss for a restaurant.

  For anywhere with more than just the tow of us. I kissed him back equally, not giving a damn where I was or who could see.

  I’d almost died more than once in my life, and I thought for sure I’d never see him again. I thought I would never feel this way.

  But here he was. In my arms. Crawling under my skin. Owning every single beat of my heart.

  The sound of a throat clearing broke into the haze.

  It cleared again.

  Liam lifted his head, looked over his shoulder.

  When his body tensed, mine did, too. My hands curled back into his shirt. He moved so he was blocking me completely from whoever was standing there.

  “Your tacos are ready,” the waiter said, his voice a little disbelieving but also kind of awed.

  I couldn’t help it. I giggled.

  Liam’s broad shoulders shook under his silent laugh.

  “Set ‘em down right here, friend. I just worked up a hella appetite.”

  I gasped.

  Oh my God! That was terribly embarrassing!

  The waiter chuckled. “Guess it’s a good thing you have a back booth.”

  Liam cleared his throat. “Yeah. Sorry about that, man. No disrespect was meant. I just, ah, got caught up in the moment.”

  “Sometimes passion cannot wait,” he replied graciously. Once we had everything we needed for the tacos, he slipped away, into the back.

  I fell over into Liam’s side. “Go back to your seat!” I hissed, shoving him.

  He didn’t even budge. Not one inch.

  “Hell no. I’m staying put.” As if to prove his point, he kicked up both his long legs up beneath the table and used his former seat as a footrest. Then, he slung out one arm across my shoulders. “Eat up, Bells. These tacos are bomb.”

  He proceeded to shove half a soft-shelled taco into his mouth and groan.

  My stomach was still flipping and flopping all over the place. My hands were still trembling and my mind still in shock over what he’d said.

  “It’s gonna be fine, now, Bells,” Liam told me, settling a little firmer against me. “Now that I know what happened, I can fix it.”

  “It’s not that easy,” I murmured, glancing at the food. It looked pretty damn good. The pico de gallo looked homemade.

  He paused in chewing and glanced at me. “The hell it isn’t,” he announced. “I’m not making the same mistake twice.”

  My heart fluttered, sort of the way a hummingbird’s wings did. So fast. So furiously.

  “Things are different now,” I said, laying my head against his shoulder. “I’m different.”

  “You still feel perfect to me.”

  I sighed.

  He took a sip of his drink, then spoke. “I know you’re talking about whatever made you run here. And I don’t give a damn about that either.”

  “People want me dead, Liam,” I said quietly. So quiet I was hoping he might not hear.

  He heard.

  The taco in his hand fell onto the plate with a slap. He angled himself to look down, still keeping me tucked under his arm. “Come again?”

  I nodded, not willing to say the words twice. “It’s not safe for you to be around me.”

  “I lived the last eight years of my life without you. I couldn’t move on no matter what I tried. It was fucking miserable, Bells. I’m not doing it again. Never again.”

  “You might not have a choice.”

  He laughed. It wasn’t a friendly, warm sound. It was cold. Cold as the snow he lived in. Maybe even colder. “Nothing and no one will take you away from me again.”

  I didn’t say anything. I mean, what could I say to that? I was torn between spilling everything and saying nothing to try and protect him.

  The first rule of witness protection was to say nothing.

  Liam already knew too much.

  “Eat your taco’s, sweetheart,” he said, going back to eating. “You can tell me about every single flavor you taste.”

  I didn’t think I was going to be able to eat.

  But I did.

  I ate almost the entire plate, and then Liam finished the rest. He wasn’t kidding. These tacos were the best I ever ate.

  I knew Liam thought we could just pick right up where we left off. But we couldn’t. It was impossible.

  And when he finally realized that, we would both know heartbreak all over again.

  Liam

  “Ask me.”

  “What?”

  “Since I pretty much controlled the conversation at dinner, you never got the chance to tell me what that something was you needed me to do.”

  Bellamy looked like a hot little snow bunny sitting in my truck. Black leather seats surrounded her, a black coat wrapped around her body, and those damn boots with the fur sticking out of the top felt like a tease to something I really, really wanted. Eight years ago, her hair was long. The kind of length I could tangle my hands in and pull her close. The kind that spilled over my chest when she lay on me.

  It was even longer now. The same honey strands that sometimes turned gold under certain light. I loved it. I wanted to take two handfuls and wrap it around my fingers over and over again.

  Her skin was still soft and smooth, and her blue eyes could still haunt a man’s dreams.

  “I don’t really think this is the place to talk about that,” she replied.

  Oh, that was right. We were having a conversation. Sometimes words failed me when I looked at her.

  I reached into the cab, palmed her waist, and lifted her out. The second her feet hit the pavement, I caught her hand, pushing my fingers through hers. The valet appeared instantly, grinning from ear to ear.

  “I won,” he announced, holding up his hand to show he’d thrown a rock in their most recent rock, paper, scissors match.

  I laughed and held out the keys. “Be careful with her, okay?”

  “Of course, Liam,” he replied. “As always. She will be parked in your designated spot.”

  “Thanks.”

  Bellamy looked up at me from beneath her blond lashes. “Not many people around here call you Mr. Mattison.”

  I made a sound. “That’s my dad. Not me.”
/>   “They all love you.”

  I made another sound.

  “Are you really taking over the resort?”

  I paused and slid a glance to her. “Supposed to.”

  “But that’s not what you want?”

  I groaned. “We’re talking about something you want right now.” I reminded her.

  The lodge was pretty quiet, something that was kind of surprising because it was one of the most popular gathering places at the resort. But then I remembered there was some kind of show in one of the other buildings. I was kinda glad for the peace.

  Tugging Bells’s hand, I walked to the table with hot cocoa and cookies to pour us each a cup. Once I was done, I handed hers over, and she smiled.

  I watched her lift it toward her lips, then frowned, quickly snatching it back out of her hands.

  “Hey!” she said, surprised.

  I took a sip of it and grimaced. Then I handed it back. “Hold this.”

  “Of course. Let me hold this drink you made for me for you,” she muttered.

  I chuckled. “I like your sass, woman.” Popping the top off a can of whipped cream, I filled the top of her cup with it and then stuck in one of those super-skinny red straws. They were meant for stirring, but everyone I knew used them to drink out of.

  “Wait ‘til that melts in there a few. Then it shouldn’t burn you.” I went back to my own cup and added some of the whipped cream to it.

  I felt her eyes, so I turned and lifted a brow. “Yes?”

  “You tested my drink to see if it was too hot?”

  “You burned yourself last time.” My eyes went to the front desk, then back. “That guy’s lucky I didn’t fire his ass.”

  She gave me a stern look. “You can’t fire someone for giving them a cup of hot hot chocolate.”

  “Are you trying to seduce me?”

  “What?” she wondered, her eyes going confused.

  “Because it’s working.”

  “You’re utterly ridiculous.”

  “Utterly,” I mocked. I put on my best pout. “I burned my tongue for you.”

  Gasping, she set down the cup and grabbed my face. I liked the way her hands felt rubbing against my stubble. “You did? Let me see.”

  I stuck my tongue out. “Ight tere,” I said, pointing.

  She made a sound and leaned up on tiptoes to study the minor burn. I was getting quite the kick out of the undivided attention.

  Until she kissed me.

  Bellamy leaned right up and kissed the spot on my tongue that I told her was burned.

  My heart collapsed.

  All fun and flirting went out the window. My eyes dropped to hers, and she must have felt the change over me because her hands fell away from my face.

  “You kissed me.”

  “It’s not the first time.” She pointed out.

  “It is in eight years.”

  She kissed me. And I don’t mean kissed me back when I kissed her. I mean She. Kissed. Me.

  She swallowed. “Does it hurt very bad?”

  She meant my tongue. “Not anymore,” I rasped, not talking about my tongue at all.

  “Liam, breathe,” she instructed.

  I inhaled.

  I wanted to grab her and run. To lock us in her suite—no, my cabin—and not come out until I made up for every single year she was gone.

  I knew I couldn’t. I had to almost relearn her. The thought was absurd because my heart insisted it knew her better than anyone. But I wasn’t seventeen anymore. I was a grown man, and as much as I wanted to listen to my heart, I had to also consult with my head.

  Besides, making up for lost years wasn’t something that could just be done in a bedroom.

  After handing her the cup, I held out my hand. “Come with me.”

  I led us to the other side of the massive crackling fireplace. There was a small loveseat right by it, and I pulled her down on the cushion beside me.

  “What do you need?”

  After glancing around and realizing we had the privacy she wanted, she answered, “I need you to call my mother.”

  “You can’t call her yourself?”

  “No.”

  I don’t know how that one-syllable word could sound broken. But it did.

  My hand covered her knee. “You want me to get a message to her?”

  She nodded and bit into her lower lip.

  Gently, I reached up and tugged the flesh from between her teeth. “What kind of message?”

  Blue eyes lifted to mine, wide, soft, almost pleading. “I just want to know if she’s okay.”

  I nodded. The center of my chest felt tight. “Of course I’ll call her, sweetheart.”

  Bellamy surged forward and grasped my hand with both of hers. The way she gripped them and stared at me cause my pulse to quicken. “I need to tell her to be careful. I need to warn her.”

  I puzzled. “Warn her?”

  She nodded. “If the men can’t find me… they might go for her.”

  “What the hell is this about?” I demanded. “You need to tell me. I can help you.”

  “I’ve already told you way too much.”

  “Like hell! You haven’t told me shit.”

  “Don’t you cuss at me!” she demanded.

  “Now, sweetheart, you know it’s nothing personal. I’m just worried about you.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Placating is just as bad as cussing.”

  I grinned swiftly. The moment passed, though, and the gravity of this situation washed back over us. “I just wish you trusted me enough to tell me.”

  “It’s not that.” She glanced down at where her hands still held mine. “I just…” Her lips pressed together. Then finally she said, “Can you just call her? Please?”

  I couldn’t—wouldn’t—deny her anything. “What’s her number?”

  Releasing my hands, she reached into her jeans and pulled out a ripped piece of paper with BearPaw’s logo on it. The phone number was written across it in pen. Instead of taking the paper, I cupped her hand and the paper between both of mine. She was shaking.

  I didn’t like it.

  “I’m scared for you to call her. Scared for you not to.”

  “Why?” I asked, rubbing my hands against hers, trying to give some warmth to her icy fingers.

  “I shouldn’t get you involved. What if they’re watching? What if they come for you?” I started to shake my head, but she cut me off. “But I need to know. What I did… I put her in danger.”

  The way she slumped, as if she were exhausted and defeated at the same time, was too much for me to watch. I lifted Bellamy into my lap and settled back into the cushions. Her body relaxed into mine immediately, her cheek falling against my chest.

  Possessiveness rumbled through me. The need to shield and protect had never been so fierce inside me.

  “It’s okay now,” I murmured, gathering her closer and stroking her hair.

  “I’m not sure it ever will be again.”

  A moment later, she lifted her head and gazed at me. “Sometimes I think I should just go back home. Let them find me. Then this will be over once and for all, and she’ll be safe… and I won’t have to run.”

  The mere suggestion that Bellamy surrender to whatever the fuck was going on was a hard no inside me. An I will bring down this fucking town no.

  I couldn’t stop the sudden heaving of my chest, but I tried not to go ape shit. I mean, she was sitting on me for comfort.

  “You’re not going anywhere. You’re staying here, with me.”

  “I don’t understand why you’re still single.” Her palm rested on my chest. “Why, after eight years, has no one claimed you?”

  Emotion rumbled inside me. “Because you claimed me the day I saw you standing beneath the lift, looking green with fear.” I palmed the side of her face. “You claimed me, Bells, and never let go.”

  She kissed the side of my jaw. My eyes drooped, my heart rate slowing to a thud. When she lifted, I lowered, and her lips brushe
d over mine.

  It wasn’t a long kiss. The second it was over, she tucked herself back into my chest and sighed. I sat there for a long moment, just staring over her head into the fire. I felt raw. Ripped open and bleeding. But I didn’t want a bandage. I didn’t want this intensity to ever dull. I always wondered what it would be like to see her again.

  Sometimes I thought about it. Hoped for it even.

  I never imagined it would be like this. As if the bond we formed eight years ago had strengthened, not weakened.

  If it was this strong now, without us even trying, what would it be like when I gave her my all?

  After I quieted the raging storm inside me, I pulled the phone out of my jeans.

  “Let me see the paper, Bells.”

  “I don’t think you should use your cell.”

  “It’s a private number,” I told her. “If I use one from the lodge, it will come back directly to BearPaw.”

  She seemed unsure, but I was. I took the paper and dialed the number. Just before I hit CALL, Bellamy’s hand settled over mine. “Ask her about her roses.”

  “Her roses?”

  She nodded. “It’s sort of a code between us.”

  “It’s winter.”

  “Just ask,” she implored.

  I lifted the hand covering mine and kissed it. Then I sent the number through. Bellamy’s body was rigid as she listened to the rings. After the third one went unanswered, her hand fisted in the front of my shirt.

  “Hello?” a woman answered on the fourth ring.

  Bellamy nearly collapsed against me.

  “Hi, Mrs.—”

  Bellamy jolted up and shook her head adamantly.

  I cleared my throat. “Hey, it’s Liam. I was just calling to see how you’re doing.”

  Relief flooded Bellamy’s eyes, and she nodded.

  There was a brief pause on the other end of the line, and I honestly expected the woman to just hang up. She didn’t.

  “Oh, how nice of you to call. I’m doing just fine. And yourself?”

  Big fat tears rolled over Bellamy’s cheeks, and I wiped one away as I spoke. “I’m doing good, too. Just, you know, catching up with old friends lately.”

  The woman paused again.

  “I was wondering how your roses are doing? I know how much you love to garden.” God, I hoped she actually did like to garden.

  There was a small catch in the woman’s voice when she replied, “M-my roses are doing beautifully. I’m so looking forward to spring when they all bloom.”

 

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