by Penny Alley
“You shouldn’t do that.” Unable to continue standing so close to him, she turned and started walking toward the tents.
Not about to be left behind, Colton fell into easy step alongside her. “What shouldn’t I do?”
“Look at me like that.”
“Why not?” he challenged.
She huffed, a soft breathy laugh that hovered between self-depreciating humor and regret. “Because I’m not…” like them, she almost said—all those young and nubile, pretty and carefree, big- and even bare-breasted women out there on that combatants’ field. “I’m not one of your candidate Brides. I’m not what you need.”
Colton stopped walking, and after a few steps, she did too. He’d kept his smile, but his eyes had narrowed. “How do you know what I need?”
“I don’t,” she said flatly. “I just know, whatever it is, you’re not going to find it in me.”
He stepped in closer, coming almost toe to toe. It was likely just the sun she was feeling, but she could have sworn it was his body heat burning through both their clothes and directly into her. “Where will I find it, Karly?”
“With someone who’s not damaged.”
She shouldn’t have said that. Too late, Karly tried to laugh it off. She didn’t want to fight. She honestly could not remember the last time she had felt like this—relaxed, comfortable…content—in another person’s company. Not since Dan, certainly. The last thing she wanted was to turn this moment into something ugly. “I’m sorry. Let’s not…um…”
He was still staring at her, his mouth flat and no longer smiling. In the broad light of day, his eyes seemed more yellow than amber and he held himself stiff and still, waiting for her to finish explaining.
As if she could explain. She wasn’t one of his ‘hopeful’ contestants. She wasn’t even another visitor to Hollow Hills, participating in a long-standing, local tradition—however odd it might be. What had he done but try to be nice and take her mind off the problems waiting for her at home? What had she done, but insinuate herself into his problems, as if she had the right? He had to nip this pointless growth before it budded into something awful.
Just walk away. At this point, it was all she could do, but when she tried, Colton caught her arm and pulled her back. And not just back, he pulled her right up to him. Chest to burning chest with him. His other hand swept up to cup her cheek, skimming just under her injured eye. After so many days, the swelling was all but gone and the bright purple and reds had faded into even uglier hues of yellow and brown. She tried not to flinch, but as gentle as his fingers were, she still did when he brushed along the discolored edge before combing back into her hair and gripping tight to prevent her retreat.
She wasn’t at all prepared to fight it when he tipped her head back. There wasn’t a single inch of her that wanted to flee the heady heat of his mouth when he captured and kissed her. Right there, in full view of all those women fighting for his attention and the whole of Hollow Hills, watching it unfold. He kissed her like he meant it, rather than like a man simply trying to make a battered woman feel worthwhile again. He kissed her like a man struggling to keep his passion in check, coaxing her with teasing flicks of his tongue until she opened to him, even while the thin line of his restraint trembled just under the strong surface of him.
He moved with her, backing her up until she felt the sudden eclipse of the sun as he moved her into the shade, and then the rough bark of a tree was at her back. He caressed her, soothing her uncertainties one nibble of his mouth at a time, discarding her hesitancies with stroke after wandering stroke of the hand not anchored in her hair. His free fingers forged an exploratory path from her face to her shoulder to her left breast. Her nipples pebbled at the cup of his palm. The sheer heat of him infiltrated into every pore of her, until she could feel her naked want of him pulsing just as hot within her aching womb.
His hips were flush against her hips. His cock, and she could feel it now, prodded at her belly, thick and hard, still safely contained behind the denim of his jeans but making the throb in her sex pulse even deeper.
He released her hair and his hands moved in tandem now, descending to the round curves of her hips, drifting back to grip her buttocks. He squeezed, lifted, bringing her right up onto her tiptoes as he pulled her sex into full contact with his, and that bulge became all she felt. She couldn’t imagine any dream more vivid or wonderful than this. She shivered.
Once upon a time, though, Dan had felt this wonderful too.
Colton wasn’t Dan, and she knew that. Way down deep in her soul, she knew it. But habits of self-preservation die hard, and just as the wonderfulness of being in Colton’s arms pushed her to the brink of wanting to wrap her arms around him neck and maybe even her legs around his hips, her self-preservation kicked in. She twisted and instead of pulling him closer, she shoved, tearing their mouths apart and knocking him back a step.
The bark of the tree scraped up between her shoulders as she landed back on her own two feet, but it was a voluntary retreat on his part, she knew from the way he grudgingly let her go. The amber of his eyes seemed very bright now, alive in a way that felt so very primal.
“I’m married.” More than anything right now, she wished she didn’t have to explain. “We’re getting divorced. He signed the papers, but it’s not final yet.” She shook her head, even as she edged around the trunk just to get some nerve-settling distance between them again. “But even if it were, I’m still not one of those girls on your field.”
Golden fire flashed in the depths of his eyes. His jaw clenched, twice.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. And she meant that too. But being sorry didn’t change who she was, who Dan was, and it certainly didn’t change Colton.
Hugging herself tightly, desperate to still the snake-like rattling of nerves her sudden depravation of him had caused, Karly made herself walk away. And for a second time, Colton made himself impossible to flee from. He fell back into step beside her. He didn’t say anything and he didn’t look at her, but there were plenty of other people who did. She could feel their stares. She could all but hear the whispered speculation that followed in their wake. She didn’t know any of these people. The censure and speculation she kept glimpsing in these strangers should not have cut her so, and yet, it did. Especially when she noticed Mama Margo watching her from far across the field. She stood near the far cluster of tents where the children and most of the other women had gathered to picnic, keep a watchful eye over the littlest ones, and gossip.
More than a few heads tipped together as sly glances moved from Karly to Colton and then pointedly away whenever they caught Karly looking back at them. The look on Mama Margo’s face said everything that Karly didn’t need to hear: She wasn’t pleased with the attention Colton was paying her. She wasn’t pleased because Karly wasn’t one of them.
And she never would be.
CHAPTER NINE
Colton bought Karly two coffees over the course of the morning and a chocolate- and raspberry-filled pastry for breakfast. They watched the games, moving from one shade tree to another, following the shadows as the sun reached its zenith and then began to descend again. When one group of women on the field got too tired or too beat-up to continue playing, another took its place and the games started all over again. If there was a score to be kept, Karly couldn’t figure it out and Colton didn’t volunteer any explanation.
From the thick row of observers in constant motion around the battlefield’s outskirts, Karly began to pick out odd groupings among the viewers—certain men kept catching her eye. Maybe it was only because Colton had told her the significance of this town-wide celebration that she noticed them at all, but they were watching so intently, bending their heads together, gathering in peer-aged groups rather than as family units as she would have expected.
“Shouldn’t you be out there with the others?” she asked, feeling guilty because it was obvious that she was responsible for keeping him from it. Archaic and somewhat misogynis
tic though it might be to her; to Hollow Hills this was important, and she had no business judging them.
“I know where I need to be,” Colton said, handing her one of three sausages-on-a-stick that he’d just bought from another vender.
“What kind of meat is this?” It smelled spicy and definitely looked homemade.
Colton smirked slightly as he bit into his own. “If you’re still curious after you’ve finished it, I’ll tell you. But you probably don’t want to know.”
Don’t get attached, she had to tell herself when he cocked her another of those crooked grins. She knew better than to let herself get drawn in by that sweet, slow, southern boy charm he exuded every bit as effortlessly as he breathed, but, oh, it was so hard. And getting harder the longer she stayed by his side.
The way he took her around the field, introducing her to some of the townsfolk, introducing her to some of the carnival-type games they had set up for those not directly participating in the ‘mating’ selection going on in the arena—penny tosses, target shoots, pitch and dunks—it began to feel almost like dating. Oh yes, she knew better than this. She should have gone straight home right from the moment she realized she was going to have this problem, but it had been so long since anyone had paid her this kind of attention.
She liked it. She’d missed it. She felt such a surging hatred for Dan, who had robbed her of so much these last four years. On the heels of that, though, came a cascading wave of fear because she knew this wasn’t permanent. Colton wanted something she couldn’t give him, and all she wanted was to feel safe, if just for a little while.
Colton did that for her. It was ridiculous how secure he’d made her feel in such a shockingly short amount of time. But that didn’t mean she should attach herself to him, and since marriage was what he was after, she knew the decent thing to do would be to leave. Free him up to win the notice of one of the women battling for his attention out on that silly field. But, she didn’t.
She let him buy her a huckleberry ice slush instead. She even let him put his arms around her on the pretense of showing her how to hold a rifle to hit the metal bottle targets, and she shot that rifle all the while pretending as if she never saw Mama Margo’s frown growing more and more pronounced the longer her hawk-eyes watched them. Or that she couldn’t see that Colton’s Fish and Game companions were frowning too. No matter where they went around the fairground set-up of the Ridge, she kept catching sight of Gabe and another man, his arms sleeved in tattoos, watching in grim disapproval.
What was she doing?
Having a little fun, she tried to tell herself. And why not? Why shouldn’t she let herself feel happy for once, even if it wasn’t real and only for a little while? Who was she really hurting if Colton was content to shower her with his attention, instead of someone more…available?
Afternoon was well upon them by the time all that coffee and slushies finally caught up with her. Spotting a familiar blue line of port-a-potties set up along the far end of all those colorful tents and flapping banners, Karly excused herself.
“I’ll be right here,” Colton said, taking up a waiting stance against the base of a sprawling old birch. He raised his hand in hailing salute to someone in the crowd as she moved off, but nature was calling and the call was more insistent than her curiosity over whoever might be moving in now that she had left his side.
Although arguably some of the nicest biffies she’d ever had the pleasure of enthroning herself in, it was while Karly was laying down a toilet paper barrier around the plastic seat that she heard the first disparaging remark.
“I don’t know. She showed up just before the Hunt.”
“Is she competing?”
“Don’t be stupid. She’s chevolak.”
Two women laughed. For all that it was light and tinkling, it was an ugly sound.
“If she’s not competing, then she needs to get off the Field.”
“She’s been playing in Alpha Sight all morning. Someone needs to kick her ass and show her the door.”
That Karly was the ‘she’ in question was as plain as the blue of the plastic walls surrounding her. The catty women sounded young; Karly tried not to listen, but they were answering nature’s call in the biffies next to her and none of them were making an effort not to be overheard.
“I came a long way for this chance, and I’m not losing it because some chelovak slut can’t stop waving her tail under volka noses.”
“The Alpha McQueen was sniffing for her yesterday.”
“She can have McQueen. It’s the Alpha Lauren I want.”
Karly quickly finished what she had to do, hoping to slip away before the other women noticed her. Unfortunately, all three vacated the port-a-potties at the same moment, and when they saw her, the awkwardness of the silence that followed suddenly felt as heavy as the sun was stifling hot. Karly made herself smile.
“Excuse me,” she said, and tried to walk away.
Recovering from her surprise first, the dark-haired woman to her immediate right stepped back and would have let her slip past without another word. But the blonde beside her moved to plant herself directly in Karly’s path.
“You heard me and I meant every word,” she said flatly. “Get your tail down, bitch, or I’ll pin it down for you.”
Her dark-haired friend tried to intervene. “Mama Margo said—”
“Mama Margo can lick my piss,” the blonde cut her off. Her amber eyes locked on Karly again, a corner of her mouth twisting in a chilling smile. “So can you, little chelovak. Run along home, before you get hurt.”
Confrontation had never been Karly’s strongest trait. The urge to do just that—to run—shivered right up her legs. She tried to push past her, but although the blonde woman did step aside to allow it, she only made a handful of steps before the blonde planted a hand in the middle of Karly’s back and shoved. Karly landed in the dirt and grass on her hands and knees. The blonde didn’t laugh, but other people did, and suddenly that shiver that rocketed up her spine changed. It wasn’t fear, it was raw red fury that stabbed into the back of her head and raised every fine hair on her neck and arms with the prickling need to just unleash.
Was this what Dan felt just before he’d slap her? Karly watched her hands balling into fists in the dirt and grass, nowhere near as appalled as she was angry.
No way was she about to get into a fistfight right outside the portable toilets.
Karly got up. Only by supreme effort did she resist the all but overwhelming urge to turn around with all the knuckles of her tightly-clenched fist leading the way. She started walking again, trailed by sniggers and whispers. People gave her looks, but they moved out of her way.
Colton was still waiting where she’d left him, talking with his Fish and Game co-workers, but she had no intention of rejoining him. From the corner of her eye, she saw him glance her way when she ducked through the crowd and under the ropes of the sectioned off football field. She saw Margo too. The old woman straightened, her frown deepening when she spotted Karly. She held up a silencing hand, and the two grandmotherly women holding court beside her abruptly stopped talking and both turned to stare at Karly as she ducked under the pennant laced rope that sectioned off the football-cum-battlefield.
She headed straight for the rows of women lining up against one another.
“Team’s full,” the shirtless woman currently holding the ball snapped when Karly neared her. “Get off the f—”
Apart from being rude, she hadn’t done one thing to earn the broken nose that Karly gave her, effectively ‘tagging’ her out of the game. The other players stared, some startled, others bristling, but Karly stepped right over their fallen comrade and took the ball away from them all. Tucking it under her arm, Karly walked far enough away from both teams to claim a clear space of open field.
Mama Margo was watching intently now, her eyes wide and her mouth slowly curling at the corners. Gabe nudged Colton, pointing to her, and when Colton turned around, although Karly wa
s too far away to hear him, one didn’t have to be a lip-reader to make out the four-lettered curse that fell from his startled mouth.
“Oh shit,” he said, his eyes going wide.
Karly turned, locating the blonde who had rejoined a group of friends, all women, all watching her through narrowed eyes and from behind smirking, mocking smiles. Those smiles faltered when Karly pointed right at them. She gave them a single-finger salute, and they looked at one another.
“What are you doing?” a woman from just behind her asked.
When Karly looked back, she found the woman she’d just hit standing at her elbow, her dark eyes bright with curiosity and something that looked suspiciously like humor. Blood still trickled from her nose, though she absently swiped at it with the back of her hand.
“You might want to back up,” Karly told her. “This probably isn’t going to go well.”
“Probably?” the woman echoed, then snorted. “You know who that is, don’t you, chelovak? That’s the Alpha Deacon’s daughter, and the only thing she’s ‘probably’ going to do, is kill you. You realize that, yes?”
The blonde was already inside the roped off section of field with her smirking entourage fast at her heels when Karly turned back around.
“She’s going to try.” Karly tried again to find a nice open space between herself and the other women in which to get her ass handed to her. She wasn’t a fighter. She’d fought back in self-defense once or twice, but beyond that, the only punch she’d ever thrown in her life had been the one that had connected with the woman now trailing her.
“No one will stand with you, chelovak,” she was saying. “You realize that too, yes?”
“Sorry about your nose,” Karly told her, giving the ball a careless toss behind her. The Deacon girl was not coming to play a game and it seemed silly to continue holding the thing.
“I’ve been tickled harder than you hit.” Snorting again, the woman looked at Karly speculatively, then the blonde who was almost upon them, and then back at the two teams of women, standing back to watch. Most seemed darkly amused. Others were more stoic, their dismissive air betraying how offended they were by her very presence.