Chapter 29
why are you like this?
BELL
Confrontation had never been my thing.
For as far back as I could remember, I’d either shrink away, flat-out run, or, in Dennis’s case, go into Vacant Little Thing mode rather than get in a fight.
“Girl, stop being so weak,” my older sister, Joy, grumbled after threatening to beat up another second grader who’d been intimidating my lunch money out of me for nearly the whole school year. “You’ve got to learn.”
I never did.
But here I was, forty-eight years after Joy called me weak, having just hung up with Vinso, the proprietor of the Bear Mountain Gift Shop and Art Gallery, crossing the road for a third time to confront the first maul who wouldn’t stop interfering in my life.
I didn’t knock.
Just threw open his door and—
Froze.
Heat flooded my face when I found all three bears there, not just the guy I’d come looking for.
Ravik stood behind his catalog-worthy reclaimed-wood kitchen table like a commander, addressing Zion and Boone, who were both sitting down. They all had mugs in their hands, and they all turned to stare at me when I crashed into Ravik’s private domain without so much as a “May I?”
Boone’s face stained red the second he saw me.
It was obvious what I’d interrupted.
Another silent maul bond conversation. About me.
How I’d blown up on Boone after he’d made me come spectacularly—with no relief whatsoever for himself. What I’d said about him just needing to give up on me already.
And now, here I was, busting into Ravik’s house. Wild-eyed. Hair in a lopsided bun. Braless and, to their advanced senses, possibly still reeking of what had taken place at Boone’s one-story cabin.
I could only imagine how crazy I must appear to them now.
And the thing was, I was about to look even crazier.
“Bell...” Boone rose from his chair.
“Sit down, Boone,” I snapped through clenched teeth, focusing all of my attention on Ravik. “We’ll deal with what happened at your place later.”
“Bell, are you quite all right?” Zion, silver-tongued Zion, who always seemed to know exactly what to say, even in the most awkward situations, sounded truly alarmed.
“No.” I answered him without taking my eyes off of Ravik. “I am not all right.”
Then, before Zion and Boone could ask me any more questions, I asked Ravik, “You gave my number to your brother to call me for a commission?”
My voice rose, getting louder with each word. “You told him I was a newly discovered American artist who’s selling my sculptures for fifteen hundred US dollars? Each?”
Ravik’s face became a cold mask. He set down the cup in his hand, then came around the table to face me directly. Like a general getting in front of his lines to lead the way into battle. “Yes. I did.”
“Why?” I shook my head at him. “Why would you do that?”
He stretched his jaw to the left, then the right, before clasping his hands in front of him to answer, “You are a newly discovered American artist. You wanted to pay us back but lacked income. This solves both problems. I am aware you probably have some…”
His jaw flexed, like the next word was particularly hard for him to say, and he had to force it out. “…feelings around my actions.”
“You’re aware?” I repeated.
“Yes, aware,” he answered, voice flat and controlled. “But not sorry.”
Of course, he wasn’t sorry for going behind my back to negotiate the sale of my artwork. Just like he wasn’t sorry for confronting me about my daughters. Or giving me gifts to do my newfound art that I wouldn’t have been able to afford on my own. Or making sure I was protected.
From my nightmares, and from own myself.
Even after I pushed him away. Even when I told him I didn’t want anything else from him, despite knowing he was the walking definition of Acts of Service as a Love Language.
“Fuck!” The word exploded out of me. Obviously, I’d spent too much time with Boone over the past few weeks.
But then I did it again, turning my back to Ravik to yell it at the ceiling with my upturned fists balled in the air. “FUCK!”
I spun back to Ravik to demand, “Why are you like this?!”
Right before I rushed at him, like a bull…
…and slammed into him.
With a kiss.
For a split second, Ravik just stood there, frozen, with his arms stiff at his sides.
Somewhere in the distance, I heard Boone whisper, “Holy fuck.”
And I wondered if Ravik was about to push me away—you know, because of the “I’m crazy, just give up on me” speech I’d issued to Boone less than an hour earlier. Maybe he’d taken Maya Angelou’s advice and decided to believe me.
But then Ravik’s hands came up to cup my face, and suddenly, suddenly, he was kissing me back.
Not slow torture sipping at me, like Zion did below.
Not consuming me whole, like Boone did above.
He hunched his shoulders to get a better angle and pushed his lips into mine, licking into my mouth to take back control of the kiss with a perfectly measured amount of speed and pressure.
Warm, certain, and tender, like the end of a romantic movie.
Just right. Just right. Just right.
“Thank you,” I murmured into his mouth when it finished, and we both came up for air.
His hands were still cupping my face, thumbs stroking my cheekbones, but something uncertain flickered behind his dark-brown eyes.
“You don’t have to thank me like this.” His jaw set. “Vinso came to me with the inquiry about the statue. I only told him a price and gave him your new number.”
“No, that’s not what I was thanking you for—I mean, thank you for that, too.” I threw him a quick grateful smile. “He commissioned five bears, and that’s going to be a life-changer, but…”
My chest went all gooey when I gazed into his eyes. They weren’t hard and unyielding, like they’d been the last time I was here, but soft and curious as he waited for me to finish.
“Thank you for the kiss. That was amazing.”
He startled a little, then showed me something I’d never seen before. His smile.
It spread across his handsome face—slow and devastating, like sunrise over the lake I thought might be too cold to swim in—right before he said the perfect thing:
“Then we should do it again.”