Chapter 11 #2
Her pulse quickened, her heart pounding against her ribs.
“And when you talked to Theo and Carter…” He broke off, shaking his head as if the memory alone was too much for him.
“I could hardly stand it, Scottie. I know it’s irrational and I have no claim on you, but when Sheldon made you smile, it was all I could do to concentrate on the people I was speaking with. ”
His tender confession swirled around her. Goosebumps pebbled her flesh.
He leaned closer, his gaze unrelenting. “Every time I caught your eye, I wanted to find some excuse to get you alone. To pull you away from everyone else and just…be with you.”
Warmth surged through her veins, and her cheeks flushed under his intense stare.
“I’ve been trying to figure out how to make that happen all night,” he continued, his voice dropping even lower. “But you’re so dang good at talking to everyone. Laughing. Literally being the life of the party.”
She shook her head. “I am so not the life of the party.”
“And now…” He paused, his gaze dropping to her lips before returning to her eyes. “Sitting by the fire, all I could think about was how, if I let you go home without kissing you, I was going to lose my mind.”
The air between them felt electric, charged with something Scottie couldn’t control. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.
Before she could think, before she could even process what was happening, his hands came up, framing her face. The caress of his thumbs on her cheeks made her knees weak.
“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time,” he said, his voice low.
“How long?”
He leaned closer. “Since you were sixteen.”
She gasped. “What? Then why didn’t you?”
“Because you didn’t pay attention to me.”
She let her eyes roam his face, memorizing his strong brows, ruddy cheeks, and the sharp angle of his jaw. “I-I paid attention to you.”
“Not like this.”
And then he kissed her.
It wasn’t soft or tentative. It was bold, consuming, and it left her breathless. His lips moved against hers with a desperation that made her heart race, his hands anchoring her as if he was afraid she might slip away.
Scottie’s mind spun, but all she could do was kiss him back. Her hands found his chest, the warmth of him bleeding through the fabric of his shirt. He pressed her gently against the bark of a tree, his body shielding hers.
The world fell away. There was no fire, no resort, no one else. Just the two of them, tangled in a kiss that felt like it had been building for years.
When they finally broke apart, their breaths mingling in the stillness, blood roared in her ears.
“Tate…” she whispered, her voice shaky.
“I mean it,” he murmured, his hands still cradling her face. “I’ve been crazy about you for so long, Scottie.”
Oh, sweet Tate. His raw honesty. His willingness to lay his feelings out like this. She reached up, her fingers brushing against his stubbled cheek.
A man coughed, then twigs snapped nearby.
Tate stepped back. The cool night air rushed in, making her shiver.
“Tate?” Luke’s voice carried through the trees. He stepped into view, his face apologetic. “Sorry to interrupt,” Luke said, his gaze darting between them. “But something’s happened to Gary.”
Scottie’s heart dropped. “What? What happened?”
“I don’t know all the details,” Luke said. “But Abbie called. She said you need to get over to the house now.”
Tate’s hand found hers again, squeezing gently. “Let’s go.”
Scottie nodded, her mind already racing, the magic of the moment replaced by a cold, creeping dread.
Leave it to Gary to be the reason he had to stop kissing Scottie.
Tate eased into the driveway in front of Gary’s place and cut the engine. The silence in the car was deafening, broken only by the sound of Scottie’s uneven breathing.
He leaned across the console and took her hand in his. “It’s going to be all right.”
Her fingers trembled and she didn’t look at him. “I don’t know. Is it?”
Then she pulled her hand from his and got out of the car.
Tate stared at the empty seat for a moment, the warmth of her hand still lingering in his.
He’d kissed her. Finally, after years of wondering what it would feel like, he’d kissed her—and it had been everything he’d ever imagined.
But now, that moment felt like a fragile dream slipping through his fingers.
“Uh-oh,” he muttered, scrambling out of the car.
Scottie was already hurrying toward the steps. He jogged to catch up, his boots crunching against the gravel.
“Scottie, hold on,” he called after her, his voice low but urgent.
She didn’t slow down. “I can’t. Something has happened to my dad, and I need to know what it is.”
Lamplight spilled from the front windows. She shoved the door open and disappeared inside. Tate followed her, his chest tightening as he tried to think of something to say that might ease her worry. But before he could speak, a sharp voice cut through the stale air.
“Where have you been?” Lainey whirled to face them, her expression a mix of anger and exasperation. “I’ve called you. I’ve texted you.”
Tate stepped up behind Scottie, his hand itching to pull her close, to shield her from whatever storm her stepsister was about to unleash. But they hadn’t talked about that kiss or what it meant—or if anybody other than Luke was going to find out it had happened.
“I didn’t have my phone,” Scottie said, her voice steady but strained. “The battery died, so I left it at the B&B.”
“How convenient,” Lainey snapped. “Let me bring you up to speed. Dad got in a fight.”
“I don’t know that I would call it a fight,” Abbie interjected from nearby. She and Mark stood a few feet away in the kitchen doorway, their expressions ashen.
“What do you mean?” Scottie asked, her voice rising slightly.
“It doesn’t matter what he said. The point is, Gary slugged him,” Lainey said. “That’s assault,” she added, crossing her arms.
“Whoa, slow down.” Tate stepped in. “Who slugged who?”
Mark cleared his throat. “The neighbor—Harold Bennett. He reeked of alcohol, by the way. Started mouthing off, saying how Gary could stuff all the backpacks in the world but it wouldn’t make up for the fact that he got a pile of money he didn’t earn and should give it back.”
“And Gary went off,” Lainey said, her shoulders sagging as she tipped her chin up and stared at the ceiling.
“He had every right to speak up for himself,” Mark said. “I mean, Harold was literally stumbling and slurring his words. But honestly, I didn’t know Gary had it in him.”
“What happened after that?” Scottie asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“The guy hit him back,” Abbie said, her tone soft but grim. “Gary fell down, and he immediately started complaining about pain in his neck and back.”
“Well, that’s nothing new,” Scottie said. “He’s had pain in his neck and back forever.”
“Yes, Scottie, he has,” Lainey added, her tone biting. “Caroline McGuire’s been treating him, and we’ve been trying to get him into the pain-management center in Anchorage, but the waiting list is miles long.”
Tate’s chest tightened as he saw the hurt flash across Scottie’s face. Her eyes welled with tears, but she blinked them back, her jaw tightening as if she was holding herself together by sheer force of will.
“Police came. We gave a statement, and then we brought him inside,” Abbie said. “He’s refusing to go to the hospital. Right now he’s in the bathroom with Caroline. She just took him back, like two seconds ago. He’s conscious and talking. He’s got a gash on his face, but I think he’ll be all right.”
“We don’t know that, Abbie,” Lainey snapped.
Abbie frowned, her patience clearly fraying. “Lainey, take it easy, okay? Emotions are running high.”
“Agreed. And the reason I’m upset is because this is a symptom of a larger problem,” Lainey said, her voice rising. “People here don’t respect him, and he doesn’t help matters with the way he behaves.”
“How does he behave?” Scottie asked, her voice sharp now.
Lainey rolled her eyes. “Oh, Scottie, please don’t pretend like you haven’t seen it. Sure, he just bought school supplies and backpacks for a lot of kids, but it’s not enough. It will never be enough. He got a huge fat check and nobody else did. This town is not going to forget that.”
Tate’s jaw clenched. He couldn’t take it anymore. “How about if we just, everybody, take a breath?” he said, stepping between them.
Lainey turned her glare on him, her lips thinning. “This isn’t your business, Tate.”
“Scottie is my business,” he said, his voice quiet but firm.
Lainey’s eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, the room fell silent.
Scottie turned to him, her face pale, her expression unreadable. “Tate…” she began, but her voice trailed off.
The weight of the moment pressed down on him. He wanted to hold her, to tell her everything would be okay, to kiss her again and chase away the sadness in her eyes. But he couldn’t. Not here. Not now.
And then, as if the universe wanted to twist the knife deeper, he heard Lainey mutter under her breath, “Well, she’ll be gone soon enough anyway. Back to her cameras and her show. What does it matter?”
Tate’s stomach dropped.
Scottie didn’t respond, her silence confirming what Tate had feared all along. She was going back to the reality show at Port Frisco. Back to her world.
And he’d be here, in Redemption, watching her leave all over again.
“Tate, I think we need a minute.” Scottie glanced at him, then her gaze pinged back to Lainey.
Right. A minute that didn’t include him. The truth hit him like a punch to the gut, and he took a small step back. “I hope Gary’s all right. Happy to help if I can. You know where to find me, Scottie.”