Chapter Fifteen #2
‘While I wouldn’t mind taking credit for that kind of magic, it’s purely nature,’ I said as I secured my gear in the tailgate of the truck.
‘Farms are teeming with the cycle of life. Older animals come to their natural end, while new creatures begin their journey. As a vet, you get the privilege of being part of that circle frequently. It’s a gift many people don’t get to see. ’
I held out a jug of water, and together we washed our hands and arms. Once I was toweled off, I pulled on my brown canvas jacket.
The clinic’s name was stitched across the front right pocket in bright yellow thread.
Jessa and Bree had been so proud when they’d given it to me on the clinic’s fifth anniversary.
I climbed into the truck and he joined me in the cab. A slow rain tapped against the windshield. We headed down the rural farm road back in the direction of Harvest Moon. The potholes and rough patches bounced us around, and Bryce had to reach for the handle above the door to stay steady.
‘Now I understand the need for four-wheel drive out here.’ His voice rattled along with the truck. ‘I’d bet it’d be easy to get stuck, especially when it’s snowing.’
‘Snow is bad but rain is a thousand times worse, because this road can become a muddy bog pretty quickly.’
Bryce clung to the door as we bounced and shifted in the cab again. ‘What did George mean by the town giving you reasons not to return?’
I gave the truck more gas. The windshield wipers moved at a frantic clip, doing little to help with the rain that was morphing into blinding sheets. ‘You’re a smart guy who’s researched the town; you can probably figure out the answer.’
‘The whispers about magic?’
It was a lot more than just whispers, but that was not information I was about to give him.
‘It’s something like that.’
‘There’s more to the story but you’re not going to tell me, right?’
Damn straight.
‘How does it feel now that you’ve seen your first live animal birth?’
He smirked at my not-so-smooth change of subject. ‘Is it weird that all I want to do is call and tell my mom about it?’
‘No. Didn’t you say she was a nurse?’
‘Yeah. She works in pediatrics, but she started in labor and delivery. When I was a kid, she’d come home glowing. Tell me about all the babies that were born that day. How the mothers she took care of were brave and strong.’
A dull ache knocked against my chest at the affection in his voice. What I wouldn’t give to speak about my mother that proudly.
We were only a hundred yards from the gate between the farm and the main artery that led into town when the road grew rougher, tossing us around like a bad carnival ride. The truck’s frame shook and the display on the dash lit up with a bright red light.
‘Crap,’ I said, easing off the gas.
He leaned over to look at the dash, the heat of him pressing into my side.
God, he smelled good.
‘The pressure reading for the back passenger tire is dropping quickly,’ I said.
‘Did we run over something sharp?’ Instead of sliding back to his spot, he stayed close to my side like he knew it was sending small zaps of warmth through me. We inched toward the gate with the tire pressure plummeting faster than the rain overhead.
‘Back tire is definitely punctured,’ I said.
The storm continued to rage, and I pulled over.
‘We should wait it ou…’
Before he could finish his sentence, I had the door open. I yanked my jacket over my head and raced to the rear of the truck.
If the stinging rain hadn’t doused the heat in my veins, the flattened tire seeping into the mud most certainly would have.
‘Do you have a spare?’ He held his hands over his head as if that could keep him dry.
‘No. The front right tire blew a year ago, and I used the spare then. The autobody shop returned it, but I never put it back on the truck.’
The rain blew sideways, soaking us to the bone.
‘What about AAA?’
I pushed sopping wet hair from my forehead. ‘This is rural Colorado; what do you think?’
He shoved his hands into his pockets, water dripping off his chiseled chin. ‘Let’s get back in the truck. No use in standing in this while we figure things out.’
We raced back to the doors and hopped inside. Thunder rolled overhead, followed by a white streak flashing across the darkening sky. ‘Shit. That’s not good,’ I said.
His wet brows pinched together. ‘Isn’t this area in a drought? I’d think you’d be grateful for the rain.’
‘Rain is good. Lightning is not. With all the dry timber in the forest, a wildfire could spark very quickly. And a lot of rain at once can cause flooding and mudslides. They’ve already had to close a few trails because of recent storms.’
Fat drops thudded against the roof, and I pulled out my phone and called Aster. It rang a few times before going to voicemail. I left a message and then did the same with Lia and my grandmother. Hopefully, someone would get back to us or at least send a tow truck.
‘We might be here for a while,’ I said.
‘I don’t mind. Any time spent with you is good.’
His light blue shirt clung to the planes of his chest. Water dripped from the hem of his jeans. Every inch of him was soaked, but he still gave me a genuine smile, and I tried not to get lost in the way he looked at me like I was something to be treasured.
‘You need to stop doing that.’ I grabbed my phone, glancing at the screen for any kind of reply from my family.
‘Doing what?’
‘Pretending you like me so you can get more information for your story.’
‘I am not pretending,’ he said firmly. ‘Anytime I’m around you…’ He closed his mouth. Shot a hand through his wet hair, tugging at the ends.
‘Might as well finish, not that I’m inclined to believe anything that comes out of your mouth.’
‘When I’m around you I feel light. Like a two-ton boulder has been lifted off my chest,’ he admitted. ‘Never in my life have I felt that way around another person. Quite honestly, I prefer to be alone. Guess that’s why I’m a writer, because it’s a solitary endeavor.’
There was something in the way he held my gaze.
It wasn’t so much honesty as vulnerability.
Like he knew he was taking a risk but didn’t care about putting his heart on the line.
In all the years I’d spent with Max, he’d never been so open.
His love came with walls. There were certain topics, issues, he never wanted to discuss.
His family, his childhood, were complicated.
Too many divorces and parents who’d let him down.
Maybe that’s why we felt safe in each other’s arms, because we’d experienced the same pain and disappointment.
But he also refused to show any kind of willingness to share his true feelings.
As if speaking them into existence would make him less of a man.
That somehow I would view him as smaller.
The thunder rolled on, and Bryce reached for my hand. ‘Do you feel it?’ he said in a whisper.
‘Feel what?’
‘The tug in the center of your chest? An ache that swells whenever we’re together?’
It would be easy to lie to him. Pretend that he was alone in his feelings.
But I’d spent my whole life being brave.
Pretending that my mother constantly leaving, people staring at me oddly, whispering under their breaths, was all okay.
But I was tired of bearing that heavy weight.
Of holding everyone in my world, besides my family, at arm’s length.
He took my hesitation as an opportunity to inch back across the bench seat. Slide a chilly hand over my cheek that made me shiver.
‘Shit, sorry. My hands must be cold.’
He began to move away, and I placed my hand over his.
Like that night in the clinic, we didn’t pull back but stayed mere inches apart.
This time Bryce was the bold one, leaning in and kissing the corners of my lips.
He whispered my name as his mouth glided over my cheek and slid to my ear.
He murmured how soft my skin was. That my hair smelled like fresh straw and spring orange blossoms.
I shivered again, but this was not about the cold and wind seeping in the windows. It was about the wild need in his eyes. The eagerness in his grip as he reached out and pulled me onto his lap. How he adjusted me until I felt the delicious scrape of where he was already hard for me.
Taking his time, he kissed a path across my chin and down my neck to the hollow of my throat, where my veins pulsed out how much I wanted him.
My fingers found the hair at the nape of his neck and I tugged him closer.
He groaned against my skin. Tugged the canvas jacket off my shoulders and placed his hands beneath the hem of my T-shirt, tugging it over my head.
‘Beautiful,’ he murmured, leaning in to place a kiss over the lace bralette I was wearing.
The heat of his mouth made me arch, and he palmed my back, holding me steady. One by one, he nudged the straps off my shoulders and worked his tongue over my nipples, his warm breath turning them into stiff peaks.