Blackwood

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Blackwood Page 11

by Celia Aaron


  He didn’t answer for a long time, the silence building up like bricks in a foundation. After a while, he took a deep breath and blew it out. “I thought I did. Now, though…”

  Why did everything in me vibrate to whatever frequency he was putting out? I wanted to run my fingers down the back of his hand, hug him, do anything that would connect us as more than two people in an old house, each haunted by our own ghosts.

  “Now, I’m not so sure.” He pulled away from me and stood. “You need to rest.”

  “Don’t go.” The words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them. Maybe I’d lost more blood than I realized, or maybe I was foolishly letting my guard down. Either way, I didn’t want him to lock himself away in his room, to withdraw from me despite what we’d shared. “Will you stay with me?”

  He backed up a step. “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “I won’t hurt you.” I gave him a wry smile and pushed away the sting of his refusal.

  “I think you know that’s not what I’m worried about.” He scanned the shape of my body beneath the blanket.

  “You said you’d never force a woman, remember?”

  “I won’t. I’d never take something that wasn’t freely given.” He backed up another step.

  “You’re afraid.” I smirked as amusement flitted through me. “You’re afraid of me. Or what’s the word—intimacy. You’re afraid of intimacy.”

  “I could pin you and rope you before you had a chance to scream.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not afraid of you.”

  “You’re not afraid to do those things to me, no, but you’re afraid to sleep here with me.” I grinned. “I want to cuddle.”

  He flinched. “Cuddle?”

  “Yeah.” I flipped the blanket and the sheet off the other side of the bed. “Come on. Get in. Unless you’re scared?”

  “I’m not scared, but cuddling may be a hard limit for me. Aftercare, yes. Cuddling, no.” He wrinkled his nose.

  “Aftercare?”

  “After a session in the woods, I would hold Melinda as she came down from the high.”

  “And a hard limit, that’s—”

  “Something I won’t do.”

  “Right.” I grinned. “Because you’re scared.”

  “Not scared.” He shook his head.

  “I have an idea. Let’s have a safe word. I’ve seen enough movies to know that’s a thing, right?”

  “Yes, that’s a thing.” He shrugged. “But I’m still not getting into bed with you without fucking you.”

  Jesus. He had no qualms expressing what he wanted.

  I wasn’t going to let his directness rattle me. “So you’re afraid of spending the night with me without fucking me?”

  “Stop saying I’m afraid.” His voice lowered an octave, and heat pooled in my stomach.

  I put on my best poker face. “If you get scared, just call out your safe word. What is it?”

  He laughed, chagrin giving him an unexpected youth. “I’ve never had to come up with a safe word. That’s only for my subs.”

  “Well, there’s a first time for everything. So, let’s make up one. Like, I don’t know, excelsior. That’s a good word.” I nodded at him, as if the added movement would make it more convincing.

  “No, it needs to be simple, something you, or I guess I can remember with ease. Red is out. So we’ll have to go with black. Simple.”

  “So if you say black, then that means I stop whatever I’m doing?”

  He sighed. “I can’t believe this conversation is happening. But yes, if I say black, that means you’ve reached my hard limit.” He raked my body with a predatory gaze. “Same for you. You can call black, and I’ll know to stop.”

  “So the word stop won’t work?”

  He smirked and started unbuttoning his shirt. “No.”

  Oh, shit. He really did intend to take me up on my offer.

  “What about the word no?”

  “Definitely won’t work. The only thing a no will get you is choked.”

  I pressed my thighs together. Why was the threat so fucking hot?

  He peeled his shirt off, and I finally got a good look at the black ink curling up his arms and across his chest. A tangle of swirls and skulls danced along his skin and under the dark hair of his chest. His nipples were a dusky rose color and the right one was pierced with a silver barbell.

  He unbuckled his jeans. I leaned over and flicked off the lamp to keep from staring. Settling into the mattress, I heard his boots drop onto the floor, followed by the clatter of his belt. He stalked around the bed, his wiry muscles thrown into sharp relief against the faint light from my bathroom.

  Focus. “So the deal is that we’re sleeping together, but no sex. Unless you’re scared, and we can call the whole thing off.”

  “I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this.” He sighed. “I’ve never gotten in bed with a woman without fucking her. This is dumb.”

  I smiled at the gruffness in his voice and continued my examination. “What if I said stop?”

  The bed shifted as he eased down next to me. “I wouldn’t, but the fact that you said it would guarantee a brutal fuck. Just black. That’s the only word that will save you.”

  I turned toward him as best I could. He’d thrown my quilt over his legs and hips and laced his fingers under his head as he stared at the ceiling.

  “But what if I said please?”

  He turned his head toward me, his eyes deep pools of desire. “If you said ‘please’, I’d fuck you so hard that you wouldn’t be able to sit down, walk, or breathe for days without thinking of my cock inside you.”

  Fuck.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “These grits are the best thing I’ve ever eaten in my life. Ever.” I spooned a hefty helping of the buttery, cheesy deliciousness into my mouth.

  “Because that Garrett has been starving you to death over here.” Bonnie sliced her biscuit in half and rattled her knife in the jar of homemade scuppernong jam. “I told Sheriff Crow to let you stay with me, but no, he wouldn’t have it. He said you were in good hands out here and moving you was out of the question until you got better. I raised hell about it, but he still wouldn’t budge.” She rolled her eyes and expertly spread the jam along the warm biscuit. “Maybe he’ll change his tune now that you’re up and around.”

  I sipped my coffee, happy for the food and the company. “Garrett’s not so bad.” We’d spent the night in the same bed. I hadn’t gotten up the nerve to go for a cuddle, and I’d fallen asleep too quickly to act on the impulse even if I’d had it. The run through the woods had taken more out of me than I’d realized. He was gone when I woke, but I’d run my hand down his side of the bed, knowing he’d been there all night. So close.

  “Not so bad, huh? He doesn’t feed you worth a damn and keeps you in this haunted house. Seems pretty bad to me. Where is he, anyway?”

  I glanced at the wall behind her, the library beyond it. “Working.”

  “On what?”

  “Books. He restores them.”

  She cocked her head at me as if I’d spoken another language. “He does what now?”

  I explained his work as we ate a leisurely breakfast. Ty had given Bonnie the morning free to come and visit with me. If I ever laid eyes on him, I’d definitely thank him. She brought me bits of gossip from the county, and more importantly, the knowledge that I had a friend nearby. After we finished and cleaned up, I leaned against the farmhouse sink and tried to figure out the best way to ask questions without raising Bonnie’s suspicions.

  “I looked around at some of the family photos here. One of them sort of got my attention. A girl, Garrett’s sister.” I fidgeted with the hem of my tank top. “Did you know her?”

  She glanced around, her dark eyes scanning every corner and shadow. Did she think Garrett was going to pop out and yell boo? “Everyone knew Lillian, sugar.”

  “What was she like?”

  Once satisfied we were alone and
staying that way, Bonnie relaxed and rubbed her fingers along the brown skin at her throat. “She was beautiful. Larger than life. Back in my heyday, I competed in a few pageants around these parts.” She stood a little straighter. “But I was always runner-up to Lillian. You know how you meet some people and you forget them the next minute?”

  “Yes.”

  “Lillian was the sort you never forget. She sparkled, you know?”

  I nodded. I’d always thought the same of my mother.

  “She could light up a room as sure as a chandelier. Bright. She used to get up to some crazy shenanigans around here, I tell you.” She smiled and leaned back against the counter next to the fridge. “Damn girl would toilet paper roll the Browerton mayor’s house, then egg Sheriff Pennington’s cruiser, then go on a tear all along the country roads on the back of her boyfriend’s motorcycle—well, whichever boyfriend she had at the time.”

  I found myself smiling. “She sounds like a good time.”

  “She was. She really was. Charmed her way out of every lick of trouble.” Her face fell. “Shame what happened to her. I didn’t know she had any problems like that, you know?”

  “I don’t think anyone did.” Garrett still doubted it; his revelations last night told me as much. “Did you talk to her after she came back from Hollywood?”

  “Sure.” She started opening drawers, her scowl growing with each bit of disarray she found. When she discovered a stash of dishcloths, she snagged one, wet it, and began wiping down the counters.

  “Had she changed?”

  “Not really. Same sparkle. Just a little older like all the rest of us. She took up writing for the Browerton paper. Got the whole town riled when she did an exposé on Golden Grocery for discrimination against its black workers.” She smiled. “Made me damn proud.”

  I’d read her piece and remembered being impressed with her dogged search for the truth. We seemed to have that in common. “Did she still have boyfriends?”

  “Oh, sure.” She scrubbed a particular spot next to the sink with all the might her small frame could muster.

  “Any in particular?” I knew I was pressing my luck, but I had to make some headway on my father’s disappearance. The car told me I was on the right path. I just needed some trail markers to show me which way to go.

  “Sure, she saw crazy Danny—that was before he caught the crazy, mind you. Let’s see, the Satterly brothers. They got into a fight over her one afternoon right outside the diner. I’m talking grown men, in their late thirties, fighting over her. Ty had to break it up. I even heard she used to have girlfriends, too. Don’t know about that.” She worked her way around me, moving jars and wiping up every bit of dust as she went. “And there was one handsome fella she used to bring to the diner. Vince. He grew up around here. A couple years ahead of me in school.”

  I went taut like a dog on the trail of a deer. “How long did she see Vince?”

  “About the same as the others. Though, I think she was still dating him when”—She faltered, then scrubbed the side of the counter even harder—“when she did it.”

  “What happened to Vince?”

  She paused and wiped her forehead with the back of her forearm. “I don’t rightly know. I guess he left after that. He was raised here, but he never stayed. I think he was only hanging around again for Lillian, to be honest.”

  “So you never saw him again?”

  “Nope.”

  That put his disappearance just two weeks after I’d seen him last. He’d come to visit me at school, plopped down on my dorm room bed, and asked me when I was going to start digging for dinosaurs. He stayed long enough to smoke a cigarette, in violation of dorm rules, and give me an early birthday present—a surprisingly attractive scarf. Had Lillian picked it out?

  “You said she dated Danny. What happened to him between then and now?”

  She dragged the washcloth across the counter and shook it out in the sink. “Nobody knows. But I don’t think it’s a coincidence that he started acting squirrely right around the time Lillian died. Hiding in the woods. Showing up in town every few months screaming about lights in the trees, or voices, or God knows what else.”

  “I saw him. When I first started my survey, he found me in the woods, warned me away.”

  She turned and glanced down at my leg. “Maybe you should have listened.” She shrugged. “Sheriff Crow keeps him in line. Locks him in the drunk tank to dry out whenever he shows up. Then we don’t hear from him again for months.”

  If I could have physically kicked myself, I would have. My biggest lead had been right in front of me the whole time. “How would I find him?”

  “You don’t.” She stabbed a finger at me. “Stay away from him. You know how I told you Garrett was evil? Maybe, and I mean maybe, I was wrong about him. But I’m not about Danny. Something ain’t right in his head.” She scowled at the counters and tossed her dish rag into the sink. “Well, I’ve done all I can right this minute. This place needs a real scrub down, not my half measures.” She wrapped her arm around my shoulders. “Anyway, I’m so glad I finally got to come spend some time with you. Holler at me if you need anything. I’m always at the diner, and you have my cell.”

  “Yes.” I nodded as she pulled me into a crushing hug.

  “Watch out for Garrett.” She buried her whisper in my hair. “I’ve heard things about him. Bad things he likes to do to women.”

  I returned her hug. “He’s a teddy bear, I promise.” Unless you run from him.

  “If you want to stay with me in town, just say the word.” She grabbed her bright pink bag off the table and pulled her keys out. “I’ll get all over Sheriff Crow about it.”

  “Will do.” I stowed the two containers of food she’d brought in the fridge. “Thanks for the food. Though the Garrett diet is doing wonders for my figure.”

  “No excuse for a grown man not knowing how to cook.” Her disapproving tone came back with a vengeance as she strode into the hall, and I followed with a limp. She’d let her hair go natural, the brown curls fluffing in a cute halo around her head.

  The library doors opened right as we passed by. Garrett looked up, surprise raising his eyebrows. “Bonnie. I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “I’ve been here for half an hour.”

  “Food?” A hopeful smile gave him a boyish look.

  “In the fridge.” She scoured him with a harsh stare. “But save some for your prisoner. She’s getting too skinny.”

  “Maybe you should bring food more often.”

  “Do I look like a Meals on Wheels to you, Blackwood?”

  He glanced to me, unsure. “Um, no?”

  “No is correct. Learn how to cook.” She pointed at me. “Let this little bit here teach you.”

  He glanced at me. “You know how to cook?”

  “I dabble.” I shrugged. “But I haven’t had a chance to try since my leg’s been messed up.”

  “Here’s what I’ll do.” Bonnie pulled the heavy front door open. “I’ll stop by the store and bring you two everything you’ll need for a week.” She flicked her gaze to Garrett. “Give me a credit card.”

  He fumbled around in his back pocket and pulled out his wallet.

  “I’ll be back after my shift, and I’ll use this”—She plucked the card from his hand—“to pay for my gas.”

  “That would be perfect! Thanks, Bonnie.” I smiled, excited at the thought of having something other than a Garrett special. Maybe it should have put me off, the thought of cooking in this kitchen to the point of almost playing house with him. But good food wasn’t something I could pass up, no matter how awkward it got.

  Garrett frowned, but didn’t raise a fuss.

  “All right. See you in a few hours.” I closed the door as she walked down the front porch stairs.

  Leaning back against it, I eyed Garrett. “What’s with you?”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m not a big fan of visitors.”

  “Water is wet.” I rol
led my eyes. “This will be great. It can’t be worse than what you make, right?”

  “You have a point. You already eat?”

  “Yep.”

  “Plans for the rest of the day? More snooping?” He stuffed his hands into his jeans, the movement bringing my gaze down to his belt and lower.

  I snapped back up to meet his eyes, but his smirk told me I’d already been caught. “I’m all snooped out. If you don’t mind, I’d like to look at some cat videos—very important—and read the news on your laptop.”

  “By all means.” He gestured toward the living room.

  “Okay.” I turned and step-hopped toward it.

  His hand was at my lower back in a moment.

  “I can manage.” I didn’t move away.

  “I know you can, but you shouldn’t.” He stood close enough that I could feel his body heat, smell his woodsy scent. My bed still smelled like him. “May I?” His gaze landed on my lips.

  My nipples hardened and tingled. “Yes.” Permission. But what was I allowing him to do? Just help me, right?

  He wrapped his arm around my waist and lifted. We walked to the living room, our bodies pressed against each other and my feet barely touching the ground.

  “Thanks.” I held onto his neck as he lowered me to the couch.

  “You’re welcome.”

  I dropped my arms and stared up at him before letting my gaze trace down the buttons of his polo, past the lean stomach, and down to the bulge in his pants. Jesus.

  He turned and grabbed his laptop from the nearby ottoman, then handed it to me. “Try to keep the porn to a minimum. Viruses and all.”

  “No promises.” I took the computer and perched it on my lap.

  He hesitated, as if wanting to say more, then tightened his jaw and strode away toward the kitchen.

  I flipped open the laptop and searched in my pocket for the memory card I’d found in Lillian’s closet. The sound of a plate hitting the countertop reassured me that I was safe, but I turned on the sofa so I faced the door. If Garrett walked in, I’d have plenty of time to minimize whatever was on the memory card before he got around to see the screen. I didn’t know what I would find, and I wasn’t ready to share it all with him. Not yet.

 

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