by Tessa Bailey
Girl. There was no question. In the dappled moonlight, he could make out curves beneath fitted clothing. Slight ones, but…nice ones. And even if his attention hadn’t been magnetized by the tight jut of her ass—fuck, he’d been a while without having a woman’s cheeks in his hands—the hair would have tipped him off. It was everywhere. Even the muted darkness couldn’t hide the wild, colorful nature of it. The mass of it fell to mid-back, interrupted every inch or so with a corkscrew curl or a braid or a ribbon. Her hair was schizophrenic. Looked like it hadn’t been brushed in a while, but maybe the lack of diligence had been on purpose.
Old Man chose that moment to make a sloff sound, which jolted the girl, sending her careening back against the building. She slid to the ground into the shadows before Aaron could get a good look at her face, and for some reason the delay made him anxious. What kind of a face went with hair like that?
“Hello?” she called, just above a whisper. “Please don’t be a bear. Again.”
Again? Aaron didn’t grab Old Man’s collar in time, the furry bastard slinking toward the girl, evading Aaron like some kind of stealthy ninja canine. He lay down a few feet from the shadows where the girl was hiding, laying his face on two paws. Showing her he isn’t a threat?
Just when you think you know a dog.
The girl entered the moonlight again, this time on her knees, hands reaching out—palms up—to Old Man. And so the first time Aaron saw her face, it was washed over with pleasure. “Hi,” she breathed. “Hi, pretty…boy? Boy, I think. Thank you for not being a bear. Again.”
Aaron felt a twinge in his fingers and realized he’d been gripping the bark of the tree too hard. That voice. He immediately wanted to hear it up against his ear. But no. Because then, he wouldn’t be able to see her face. Even in the lack of light, he knew that would be an inexcusable shame. Her expression never stopped shifting. Surprise, happiness, curiosity. Hiding nothing. Unlike him, who had nothing on the inside to hide. This is why I came into the woods. She’s why.
“That’s ridiculous,” he muttered, raking the sore hand down the side of his trousers. He was prowling around in the middle of the night on some misguided mission to get the lay of the land for tomorrow. Not to accidentally run into a girl with freak show hair and an unrealistic fear of Smokey.
“Are you alone?” she asked Old Man under her breath.
Aaron made a sound of disgust as the pooch turned his head, tongue lolling to the side like a drooling fool. He had no choice but to step out from behind the tree, but felt the need to put his hands up. So she would know he wasn’t a bear, for the love of God. “It’s just a human. You’re safe.”
The girl shot to her feet, her back coming up hard against the stucco building again. Her eyes were as turbulent as her braided mane of hair, but they seemed to calm when he halted his progress. Nothing inside him was calm whatsoever, though. Some whisper in the back of his mind tempted him to go forward, settle her down by coasting palms down her thighs, across her belly. What is wrong with me? “Humans are most dangerous of all,” she finally said. “Why aren’t you wearing a jacket?”
O-kay. He had to be back in his cabin dreaming, right? “Excuse me?”
“It’s freezing and you’re wearing a T-shirt.”
Aaron looked down, as if he wasn’t fully aware of his attire. Come to think of it, he was pretty goddamn cold, but he’d been too distracted to notice. “I’m from California. We have T-shirts and ski jackets. Nothing in between.”
She nodded gravely. “Are there bears in California?”
“We have a brown one on our state flag.” He chanced a couple steps closer, but Old Man actually growled at him, cutting off his progress. “Really?”
“Your dog doesn’t seem to like you very much,” the girl remarked.
“His name is Old Man. And yeah, thanks for noticing. The feeling is mutual.” Aaron tilted his head, irrationally vexed that her face was half shaded by shadows again. “Hey, do you mind coming out here into the light?”
A beat passed. “Yes, I think I mind.”
Not what he’d been expecting, at all. Had he completely lost his touch with women? “Are you just trying to be mysterious or is there another reason?”
“You saw me climbing out of the window.” He could hear her swallow across the distance separating them. “I didn’t do anything wrong—not really—but if someone were to disagree and claim I did do something wrong, you could identify me.”
Aaron snorted. “I could pick your hair out of a thousand-person lineup.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, her hand reaching out of the darkness to scratch behind Old Man’s ears. “Yours is nice, too.”
“Are you talking to me or the dog?”
She laughed and the sound twisted in the wind, as if she were one with nature. Something sprung up from the earth. His desperation to catalog her features shot into the stratosphere. They would provide some type of answer to the riddle of a carefree cat burglar…and honestly, why was he even confused? Even his confusion was confusing.
“What were you doing inside the school?” The question came out harsher than intended, and he watched as her hand stilled on Old Man’s head. A movement that increased his suspicion, even though he kind of wanted to go on ignoring the elephant in the forest.
“What do you think I was doing?”
Her throaty answer caught him below the belt, thickening the flesh inside his briefs. Ten seconds earlier, they were just two people crossing paths in the woods, but with the issuance of those two questions, they were challengers. It didn’t help that the girl was still on her knees, while Aaron stood at full height. The symbolic positions caused even more awareness to infiltrate. “You’re not a student inside that school, are you?” he asked, because it seemed relevant now that his cock had exhibited a hearty appreciation for her voice, her…presence. “You’re not a high school student.”
“No, I went to private school.” A pause. “And I graduated.”
Aaron cleared the relief from his throat. “In my experience, students sneak into their own high school at night to vandalize it, set up a senior prank, or make out.” She better not have been making out. The thought sped past out of nowhere. “So if you’re not a student, we can rule those out.” He waited for her slow nod and another punch of relief to pass. Then he held up his fingers and begun ticking them off. “Are you a journalist? Maybe setting up a hidden camera to catch politicians in some secret ritual where they drink the blood of middle-class Americans?”
“Yes. That’s what I was doing.”
“Ah,” Aaron said, shaking his head. “See, your agreement was too quick.”
A long sigh came from the shadows. “Are you a lawyer?”
Aaron reached for the knot of his tie to adjust it, before remembering he only wore a T-shirt. “I went to law school—”
“Politician?”
“Of a sort,” Aaron hedged. “But you’re changing the subject.”
“If you’re a politician, you must know all about that.”
Old Man growled at Aaron again, but the girl reached over and placed a hand on the dog’s head, quieting him. Aaron curled his lip at his pet, wondering when the hell his famous loyalty was supposed to kick in. “Listen, I really don’t want to report you.”
“But you will?”
Would he? The high school cafeteria would be filled with politicians, voters, and media tomorrow. Despite his gut feeling to the contrary, she could very well have an agenda that included locking everyone inside, setting the place on fire, and dancing among the ashes. Stranger things had happened than someone using a political event to make a statement for their cause. Still, he couldn’t connect that particular psychopathic dot to this girl. Even without having gotten a decent look at her face. “I don’t know.”
She was silent for long moments. “Really?” Her tone was laced with surprise. “When was the last time you said those words?”
“I don’t know?” He searched his brain. “I d
on’t know.”
Her laughter almost pulled him headfirst into the darkness. No reservations, just pure joy. Where had she been existing until now? Not the same world as him, that much was for certain. “I can…” Now she sounded almost shy. How often were they going to switch gears here? “I can owe you a favor. If you just pretend we didn’t meet.”
Fuck that. The words very nearly left his mouth on a shout. He couldn’t make sense of the silent denial, but he really didn’t feel like pretending this encounter hadn’t happened. It was the epitome of happening. Another hour or so in the forest and he would have the frostbite to prove it. Maybe he’d already succumbed to the initial stages of delirium because he was placing way too much importance on this interaction.
If he were a different man, he might have enjoyed this loss of equilibrium. At a young age, however, he’d learned to shut off pain to combat losing his brother’s friendship. Hell, losing him altogether and being found unworthy, it seemed. Unfortunately, other vital parts of his humanity had bailed, too, along with pain. Compassion, happiness. Almost like he’d made a deal with the devil to prevent feeling hurt, and the fucker had taken the full deck. His father, different from Belmont’s, had been proud of Aaron’s ability to steel himself against the melancholy typical of youth. Encouraged the cynical nature that had grown in the place of his sadness. The nature that visibly made his mother, his siblings, nervous. What does someone like you need feelings for? You’ve got the three B’s. Brains, balls, and blinders.
Someone like you.
He needed to get out of there and gear up for tomorrow. Tomorrow was what mattered. “Look, forget it.” He signaled to Old Man, as if that was going to work. “There’s nothing you can offer that would help me. Just…” Discomfort invaded his throat. “This never happened.”
Walking away felt distinctly shitty, but what else could he do? Stand in the freezing cold woods in a T-shirt with a spiteful dog and a probable anarchist for another hour?
“Wait.”
Aaron turned at the sound of footsteps jogging up behind him. And then he just stared. Her face fully exposed now in the moonlight, the girl blinked up at him with vivid green eyes, that wild hair blowing around her shoulders. A mouth that couldn’t be re-created by the world’s most talented artist. His stomach dipped like a ladle into a pot of boiling soup and hung there, the forest feeling stiller than death around him. Anything would feel still so close to so much…life. So much purity. And goddammit, the corrupt piece of shit inside him wanted to drag a finger right through that goodness, because he didn’t understand it. Resented being left out in the cold when it came to something…someone…so warm and inviting and the opposite of him in every way.
He wanted to climb on top of this girl and absorb the light seeping from her. Go back to the cabin. Or wake up from this bizarre dream. Just do something before you go completely insane. “What am I waiting for?”
“Me,” she whispered, before squeezing her eyes shut and shaking her head. “I mean, I asked you to wait. I can help you.”
“How do you know I need help?” The question was reminiscent of teeth rattling.
She looked almost perplexed. “We all need help.”
Why couldn’t he get his stomach to stop twisting and diving? “Not me.”
“No?” She broke his stare to gaze out at their surroundings. “You were out here for a reason, too. What was it?”
“I don’t know anymore,” he murmured, ready to give in and try to kiss her. Just melt forward and take everything this beautiful product of the earth had to offer. But what did he have to offer back? An empty vessel. Someone like you.
“That’s the fourth time you’ve said I don’t know now.” Her smile revealed her teeth, two overlapping ones up top. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
Jesus, he almost said I don’t know a fifth time. Maybe she was a witch. “I need to get into that pancake event tomorrow morning. I doubt you can help me with that, so—”
“I can, actually,” she said, arching a cocky eyebrow.
“Really.” He doused the flicker of hope, but it was mostly at the prospect of seeing her again. “Through a window, I assume?”
When she shook her head, braids and curls and ribbons rioted everywhere. “I’ll walk you right past security through the back door.”
“Not the front one?”
Another flash of those imperfect teeth. “Beggars can’t be choosers.”
That husky tone of voice was back and it flexed his abdomen muscles, compelling him forward a step so he could peer down into her uniquely pretty face, blown away by the soft look of her mouth, the dark fan of her eyelashes. “My name is Aaron.” Take the warning. Please take it. “And I never beg.”
“My name is Grace.” A deep breath, a step back. Away from him. “And I know better than to say never.”
Aaron stood at the edge of the woods, watching as Grace slipped around the building outcropping and into the darkness, still convinced he was dreaming. But dream or not, his calf muscles burned in their desire to sprint after her, make her repeat seventy-seven times they would see each other tomorrow.
The temptation was momentarily culled when he felt a warm, liquid sensation on his right foot, and found Old Man pissing on his favorite pair of loafers.
“Really?” With one more pitiful glance the way she’d gone, Aaron removed his foot from the line of fire and shook it. “We’re literally surrounded by trees, mongrel.”
Finally, with a concentrated effort, Aaron convinced himself that darkness and a lack of sleep had caused his senses to play tricks on him. Tomorrow, he would see her again and experience the same detached attraction he usually got for women. Easy to ignore or pursue if he chose, but never…consuming. Or spellbinding. Never that.
Although as he walked back to the cabin, some premonition warned him that tomorrow wouldn’t be any less confusing than tonight.
Chapter Two
With a piece of licorice dangling from her mouth, Grace Pendleton watched from a copse of trees as Aaron paced back and forth a few times, then came to a stop at the center of their meeting spot from the night before. She couldn’t leave him standing there for long, considering—unlike last night—the school was crawling with security, bomb-sniffing dogs, and journalists. They would wonder why someone not on the security list was cooling their heels in a secure area, so she would have to collect him soon. But she needed one more minute.
Maybe two.
Whether Aaron wore a T-shirt or a tailored suit, he didn’t belong in the scenic nature landscape spread out between them. Much as she wanted to, though, she couldn’t really place him rubbing elbows with a room full of state officials, either. His eyes weren’t…flat. He’d looked right at her last night. Looked and looked like he’d wanted to see. Instead of already having the notion that she was troubled or damaged. For the first time in a long time, she’d met someone and handed them a fresh slate.
She’d been a little disappointed when he hadn’t appeared to write anything on that invisible chalkboard. Or hadn’t wanted to do so, more like. Blocked himself off from it. But for the first time, she’d gotten the impression that another person had the ability to listen to her. To make out more than just the surface of her words. Just maybe.
Sighing, Grace fed the length of licorice into her mouth, chewing the candy with great relish. After gulping down the final bite, she stowed the blue and white striped box beneath a pile of pine needles, where she could come back and find it later tonight. Then she stood, brushed the dirt off her pants, and moved slowly in Aaron’s direction. The way a hunter might stalk a deer. Only in reverse.
When she stepped on a patch of leaves, Aaron’s head whipped around, his eyes locking in—and she froze. Not because she was scared. Oh no. She knew very well when a situation called for fear. No, Grace halted in her tracks because her instincts called for her to walk over and study him. Touch him. Check for shaving accidents on his jaw, find out the exact color of his eyes, since it had been too da
rk the night before. Trace the lump of his Adam’s apple with her pinky finger. Even the idea of touching him above the neck caused a disturbance in Grace far lower. A slow, wicked twist. Especially when she considered what his reaction would be. What if…what if this incredible, physically faultless man closed his eyes and moaned?
She fanned herself, then stopped, remembering it was December.
Boundaries, Grace. She’d spent so much time living without them that relearning had been necessary. Don’t comment on someone’s appearance. Don’t touch people. She’d almost broken the rules last night when he’d leaned down over her face and spoken with such masculinity. The kind she’d never had so close. That close. Maybe he’d wanted to kiss her. But if he hadn’t, she would have embarrassed herself, right? Embarrassment. Another thing she’d supposedly relearned, although she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt it.
“Hi, Aaron, who never begs.”
He performed that eye-crinkling smirk she remembered from last night. Really, the man was so incredibly handsome, he must feel wonderful every second of the day. Just walking around, catching eyes and pretending not to notice, like an A-list movie star. “Hey, hippie, who never says never.”
Pleasure caught her unprepared. A nickname. Even if she didn’t understand the meaning behind it, she liked that he’d thought of one, used it. “Oh, um. You remember that, huh?”
His teeth slid along the inside of his bottom lip. “It was only eight hours ago.” He frowned down at her attire. “Are you going in dressed like that?”
She looked down at her chapped brown leather pants and denim shirt. “I’m only going far enough to prove I can help you.”