Chapter 7 Lucille #3
“I’m not as blind as you may think, Forsythe. I know you’re into her. Why else would you remember her eye color so well?” He roughly shifted gears and pulled the truck over along the side of the road, throwing it in park. “What the hell are you—”
“Why don’t you tell me what’s really bothering you, instead of this bullshit ring around the rosie crap?” I didn’t answer. He hung his head and sighed heavily. “Lucille,” he groaned. “What’s really bothering you?”
He lifted his head, and our eyes met. “Nothing.” I turned my head away and stared out the passenger window. “Let me out here.”
“Excuse me?”
I tried to open the passenger door, but it was locked. “Bone Ridge isn’t too far from here. Let me out. I’ll walk the rest of the way home.”
“You’re not walking home, Lucille.”
I began to feel cramped, like my anxiety and feelings were pressing against me, restricting my breathing. I needed to get out of the damn truck. I needed to feel less claustrophobic.
“Let me out.” He refused to unlock the door. “I said, let me out!”
Forsythe tossed his cigarette out his window. “I’m not letting you walk home, Lucille.”
Fine.
I placed the cigarette between my lips and raised my leg, kicking the passenger door. Forsythe shouted for me to knock it off, but I was already at the point of not caring. And so, I kept kicking until the old door weakened and shot open.
I hopped down from the truck, stumbling into the dirt on the side of the road. “Lucille!” He yelled after me, but I ignored him, lifting the hem of my dress as I stomped through the dirt in the direction of the ranch. “Lucille!”
“I don’t need you!” I flicked the cigarette away and tried to stomp over the large hill.
And I don’t need this crap.
Forsythe followed me, grunting and cussing as I continued to march down the hill, sliding to the open plain. “Damn it, Lucille!” He slid down behind me. “Would you just stop!” He ran after me and spun me around. “Stop running and just talk to me!”
“I already told you, I don’t need you. So just take the truck back. I’ll be fine.”
He refused to let me walk away, jumping in front of me. “I already told you, I don’t give a damn what you want.” I tried to move past, but he stopped me. “Lucille,” he growled.
“Move.” I kept my eyes low, refusing to look at him.
He grabbed my chin and forced my head up until my eyes finally looked up into his. “And what if I don’t?” I didn’t answer. “If you’re so upset, then stop acting like a damn brat and ask me the question you really wanna know the answer to. Hmm?” He stepped closer. “Go on, little viper. Ask me.”
My jaw tightened as my anxiety nearly swallowed me whole.
“Your stubbornness is no match for me, Lucille.” He smirked. “I’m a patient man, and I can wait here all night if I need to. ‘Cause you're worth waiting for.”
There he goes, teasing me again.
“Fine.” I stepped closer to him, standing between his legs. “You like her, don’t you? Priscilla,” I hissed her name. “Miss blue eyes.”
Forsythe grinned. “Was that really so hard?” I rolled my eyes at him. “No, I don’t like little miss blue eyes.” He paused and I felt the energy around us shift as the evening breeze swirled around us. “She’s not my type.”
“And what is your type?” I asked in a whispered voice.
He reached his other arm up and held my face within his grasp.
My breathing slowly increased, and I felt every muscle in my body tighten with each passing second.
There was something about him—the way he was staring into my eyes—it made me feel like I wanted to take a risk and dive head first into whatever this dangerous little game was brewing between us.
“Your eyes.”
I blinked at his words. “What?”
Forsythe tilted my head back gently, allowing a faint gasp to escape my mouth.
The evening sun burned as its warm light washed across the skin of my face.
He rotated my face some more, leaning in close as the light hit my eyes.
“Normally, they resemble golden pools of honey with a variety of color bursting within them. But in the sun, next to that fiery hair of yours”—he brushed my hair aside as his mouth hovered close—“they remind me of sage leaves adorned in golden flakes. They may not be blue, but why would I want someone with eyes the color of the sky, when I get to stare into the chameleon irises of someone with hair that dances like wildfire and a wild soul? ” I felt a thump in my chest. “It terrifies me to speak so freely with you, so I am.” His mouth grazed the side of my cheek, and I felt his warm breath as it glided along my face.
My body surprised me and leaned slightly further into his.
“You asked me what my type is.” His mouth met my ear. “You’re my type, little viper.”
I shook my head. “No, I–I can’t be your type,” I whispered. Tears swelled in my eyes at the overwhelming rush of emotions I felt climbing up my spine.
This can’t be real.
He tilted his head, watching me with those jeweled eyes. “And why’s that?”
“Because I–I—” I tried to pull away, but he held me still. “Let me go!”
He smirked. “Always running.” His mouth hovered over mine. “Give me one good reason to let you go, Lucille.” A single tear fell from my eye and rolled down my cheek into his palm.
My lips parted ever so slightly as he remained close. My heart raced within my chest, and I struggled to focus my thoughts and steady my breathing. “Because…I’m broken. And no matter how much you try, you can’t fix me.” His breath coasted my face, and I caught myself wanting to continue.
“Who said I wanted to fix you? I think you’re just fine the way you are.”
He’s not making this any easier.
I licked my lips and whispered his name. “Forsythe.”
“I’ll never get tired of hearing you say my name.
” His mouth was so close. “If you want me to stop, then give a reason. One reason, Lucille, and I’ll let you go.
” His eyes stared so intensely into mine, I could feel them peeking into my soul, begging me to let him in.
“Even if it kills me to see you walk away.” His fingers brushed along the back of my neck and tangled through my hair.
His grasp tightened as he pulled my head back even more with a gentle roughness. “You’re the one in control.”
Control. It was probably the one thing I lacked in this exact moment.
I wanted to let him in and surrender myself to this moment, but I knew if I did, it would ruin whatever relationship we already had.
And then what? Do we pretend nothing happened?
Or do we become something else entirely? Could I live with the aftermath?
“Even if I wanted to, we can’t.” I gasped, struggling to focus as he stood so close. “It’s too complicated. I don’t want to think about tomorrow.”
He smirked. “Then stop thinking and just let yourself live in the moment.” His mouth pressed against my neck. “Give yourself this moment, Lucille. Forget everything else in this world and simply live.”
“Aren’t you worried I’ll end up regretting this?” I asked. “That I’ll end up hating you for real?”
Forsythe pulled back and brushed my hair aside, tucking it behind my ear. “Do you think you’ll regret this?”
“I–I don’t know. But I think I’ll regret it if I don’t do as you say and give myself this moment.
” My chin tilted towards him as I stared back with hungry eyes.
“But if we wake up tomorrow and find ourselves as we once were, you have no one to blame but yourself.” My heart raced with anticipation. “Can you live with that?”
Say yes.
Forsythe smirked. “I know I said your venomous words had no effect on me, but that's a lie.” His hand gripped my face, squeezing as he forced my lips apart.
“I want to taste that pretty poison as it drips from your mouth and covers my tongue.” His mouth slammed into mine and all the reservations, fear, and anxiety I felt melted away.
My arms instinctively wrapped around his neck and I kissed him back. He tasted of cigarettes and smelled like cloves and a kick of cinnamon, a combination I never knew I needed in my life. His tongue danced with mine as our breaths became one. I didn’t need air to breathe. I needed him. All of him.
Forsythe reached around my body and gripped my backside. His hands tugged at the hem of my dress, and I pulled back with a loud gasp. “What if someone sees us?”
He smiled. “The only ones out here are you and me. No one will see us. And you can be as loud as you want. But if you want me to stop, then say the words.”
My hands rested against his chest. I could feel his heart racing and knew I didn’t want this to end.
“No,” I breathed. I gripped the material of his shirt and tugged it free from how he had it tucked into his jeans.
I slid my hands under the hem, feeling his hard abs.
His body was so warm, nearly burning my fingertips.
I watched his face, noticing his jaw tighten at my touch.
“I don’t want to stop.” My hands gripped his shirt and carefully pulled at it.
He lifted his hat, letting me yank the shirt off his body, gently tossing it to the ground.
I’d never seen him shirtless before. His body was phenomenal.
His skin was tanned from being in the sun so much, covered in scars I assumed he’d gotten from working so long on the ranch.
He had various tattoos and a bit of chest hair that was soft to the touch, but what drew my focus most was the brand he wore across his heart.
There’s no way this man is forty-five. Wait.
“Is that a cattle brand?” I asked while grazing my fingertips along the raised skin.