Chapter Eleven #2
He huffed a laugh. “You will? You’ll let me?” She offered to pay him for installing locks and cameras in the shop, and again for lunch. Maybe this was progress—Felicity taking without worrying about what she might owe.
It did things to him too. Being allowed to do small things for her was like a rare gift. Buying her food, hauling boxes and standing between her and the world added up to something that felt a hell of a lot bigger than fried dough dusted with powdered sugar.
He helped her load the books into boxes and carry them back into the shop, then they broke down the table and stowed it away too. When they finished, they joined the flow of people on the sidewalk.
He automatically shifted her to the inside. Safe.
“You just moved me to the inside.”
He reached for her hand as they skirted a group of people watching a local artisan blow glass. “Habit.”
“Military training or gentlemanly manners?”
“My parents raised me well, but my very first drill sergeant taught me to protect what matters.”
She made a contemplative noise, and to his pleasure, she looped her arm through his like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Lead the way, Marine.”
He did. And as they walked toward the smell of frying sugar and the sound of laughter, he realized it wasn’t just the energy of the festival filling the air with excitement.
It had everything to do with the woman at his side.
* * * * *
The festival noise felt like it lived under Felicity’s skin. The things that once inspired a thrill of community, of belonging, were blurring together.
She’d sold a few books. Enough to pretend things were fine. Enough to pretend she hadn’t caught herself wondering what would happen next year if she didn’t have a table at all.
Normally, she would have lingered at her table, drawn people in by talking to them about new book releases and making kids promise to read over the summer.
If she wasn’t here next year…she’d miss the town so much. Gabe said she belonged in Willowbrook, and honestly, she couldn’t see herself anywhere else.
She didn’t know how to respond to his comment because she couldn’t handle saying out loud how close she felt to losing everything she’d built. It was easier to talk about funnel cakes and kids with sticky fingers than a lot of other things she didn’t have names for.
Gabe…was becoming dangerous in all the ways she wasn’t prepared for.
Dangerous to her heart.
A group of kids hopped up on sugar darted past them, screaming and laughing. The rock band kicked up another song, a little too loud and out of sync.
She kept time with Gabe’s slow strides, but every so often, she bumped into him as if that magnet and steel were at play again. As if her body didn’t realize now wasn’t the time to jump his bones.
She ducked her head, hiding a private smile.
The previous night in the Malones’ library…
she’d caught herself drifting back to it all day long.
When he hefted a box of books for the table, she had to clench her thighs at the memory of him pinning her to the wall of the library—then blowing her mind with every tormenting twist of his tongue.
A little shiver coursed down her spine. Now that her mind had jumped on that path, visions flipped past in her mind. Gabe’s dark command for her to find the words.
And his own. Protect what matters.
There was no second-guessing what he meant.
She mattered. To him.
She gave his arm a squeeze, loving how the muscle flexed under her fingers in response. He twisted his head, eyes deep pools of what she could only call happiness.
Then it happened.
A bang.
Sharp and sudden, cracking through the air.
Felicity startled—more out of reflex than fear. A laugh perched on the edge of her lips, about to fly out as she spotted two boys running from the firecrackers they threw on the pavement.
Gabe didn’t laugh.
In an instant, she was airborne.
He hooked her around the waist and shoved her into the narrow alley beside the antique store. Her back hit the ground, punching the air from her lungs.
His body landed over hers, solid and heavy, shielding every inch of her.
“Gabe—”
“Stay down,” he growled, voice not totally his. Not totally present.
Her mind battled to catch up to what just happened. The noise. The firecrackers. Then Gabe throwing her into the nearest alley and covering her with his own body.
Like he would take a bullet for her.
Her own heart stuttered—had she missed a threat? The break-ins, the missing journal…
Her hand was shaking when she brought it up to touch his face. He clamped her fingers in his. God, his hand was icy cold.
And he was shaking. Not violently, but enough.
Another pop sounded from the street, followed by the sound of kids laughing.
Gabe flinched, and understanding hit Felicity like a blow.
Oh god.
“Gabe.” She lifted her free hand to his cheek. “Look at me.”
He was frozen. Didn’t move.
She slid her fingers upward, gently, to frame his face. “Look at me. Gabe. It’s Felicity. It’s us. You’re safe. I’m safe.”
As if her words brought him back from some shadow realm, his breath hitched. His grip tightened around her hand.
“Marines are the first in.” His voice fractured. “And the last out. That’s why they call us devil dogs.”
Her heart broke into as many pieces as his quavering tone.
Slowly, she lifted her head just enough to touch her forehead to his. “You’re not there,” she whispered. “You’re here. In Willowbrook. With me. It’s Mayfest. Those kids had firecrackers. That’s all.”
His chest swelled against hers as he dragged in a deep breath. With agonizing slowness, his rigid frame loosened. His pulse eased to a more normal rhythm.
He blinked hard once, twice, banishing whatever war-torn ghosts still clung to him.
Finally, he let out a harsh exhalation and rolled off her into a sitting position, back against the cool brick. She sat up too, knees bent, brushing dirt from her palms.
From the street, they probably looked like a couple sneaking away from the fair to steal a private moment and a few kisses.
He dragged a hand over his face. “Christ, bookshop. I’m so damn sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
Her eyes widened. “Embarrass me? Gabe, I think I should be the one apologizing. I didn’t realize—”
“You shouldn’t have to deal with this.” His voice turned sharp with self-directed anger.
“Most people don’t. That’s why I didn’t come to town very much when I was in the program.
I can’t always trust myself to not—” He cut off, jaw flexing so hard it looked like it could slice through his skin. “I’m too broken."
She moved slowly, touching his arm lightly. “Hey. Look at me.”
He did.
“You’re not too much. You’re not broken. And you didn’t embarrass me.” She jerked her chin toward the street where a certain apron-wearing gossip queen hustled past. “See? If anyone should be embarrassed, it’s her. Did you see how much powdered sugar she had on her apron earlier?”
A faint, reluctant smile tugged at his mouth. He huffed a chuckle. “You’re amazing.”
“So are you.” She bumped her shoulder against his. “And the fact you risked this”—she gestured to his trembling hand—“to spend an afternoon with me? That means everything.”
Silence unfolded between them with an underlying electrical charge that had more to do with emotions than desperate desire. It was different…and yet totally perfect.
He cleared his throat. “Come to dinner with me.”
She blinked. “Dinner?”
“Just us.” He angled his body toward her, expression vulnerable in a way she’d never seen before. “No family. No shop talk. Just you and me. Tonight.”
Her breath caught.
“Yes,” she said immediately.
His eyes darkened, leaving a puddle of warmth low in her belly. “And wear something nice.”
She lifted a teasing brow. “Planning to impress me?”
He leaned closer, voice dropping to a delicious rumble. “Planning to ruin you for any other man.”
A full-body shiver rippled through her. Then she was in his arms, her bottom landing in his lap and her lips on his. At first, she felt his surprise. Then he wrapped her tight in his arms and kissed her back with that white-hot current that never seemed to completely stop arcing between them.
When they pulled apart, she eased out of his lap and gained her feet. “You’d better give me time to get ready.”
She tried to step back, but he caught her wrist gently, letting his fingers slide away one by one—a slow drag that lit up every nerve she had.
He glided to his feet. “That look you’re giving me? It’s going to ruin me before seven.”
Her laugh came out a little shaky. A little breathless. God help her, she loved the way he said it.
Tonight wasn’t just dinner.
It felt like the start of a path she wasn’t sure she was ready to step onto.
But damn…she wanted the adventure.