Chapter 18 #2
“You both seem pretty buddy-buddy with Wynn,” I say, arching a brow at Jonah after Wynn and Mulligan head outside to get my pack and whatever bag Wynn had apparently packed. I vaguely remember him helping me pack some things too, but it’s all a blur.
“He’s made it a point to come see us every time he rides through, to let us know that you’re alright and everything. He’s a good guy.”
“He is,” I agree. “We’ve become really good friends.”
I gently lift his legs so I can slide beneath them, setting them down over my lap as I lean back against the cushions. When he winces and sucks in a harsh breath, I grind my teeth.
“I will never forgive him for this,” I mutter quietly.
“Forgive who?”
“Traeger. If he hadn’t taken me—”
“Technically you volunteered,” Jonah interrupts, smirking when I glare at him.
“I should have been with you. I should have had your back.” Tears burn my eyes again and Jonah’s smirk fades.
“Mel, this could have happened whether you were with me or not. Hell, you could have been hurt right beside me if you’d been there. It’s no one’s fault, come on.”
“It’s his,” I insist.
Jonah eyes me, that look in his eyes telling me he knows there’s more that I’m holding back.
I’ve never been good at lying to Jonah. Everyone else?
Sure, no problem. Half of my job had literally been to lie, and I’d been damn good at my job, but Jonah has always known when I’m keeping things from him.
Planning his surprise twenty-seventh birthday party had been nearly impossible.
He claims he really had been shocked by the entire thing, but I have my doubts.
I think he just maintains that story to make me feel better.
“I’ve been thinking that things aren’t quite what they seem,” he says slowly, telling me without telling me what he suspects.
We’ve always been able to communicate like that, almost telepathically to a point.
It used to drive Mitch and Sean crazy. I meet his gaze and decide that I’m not technically breaking my promise if I hint and he infers and reads between the lines.
“I can neither confirm nor deny…” I say quietly, cutting my eyes to the stairs. “But you might be correct in your line of thinking.” He nods to himself, as if he’s seeing everything click into place inside his mind, confirming what he thought might be the case.
“I’m ok, J. I promise you, I’m alright. Maybe even…” I shake myself, refusing to say the word happy. Maybe I had been, or at least getting close to it, but that was before.
“Oh my god,” Jonah breathes, a smile tugging his lips upward and transforming him from handsome to downright gorgeous. Jonah smiles with his whole self somehow, like it comes from deep within his soul and lights up every inch of him.
“What?” I ask, confused. “What’s that shit-eating grin about?”
“You’re falling for him.”
“What?? That’s what you got from that? That’s not—”
“Oh I know what you’re saying,” he says, cutting me off with a look that says I’m an idiot.
He keeps his voice low as he continues, “I had my suspicions based on what Wynn was passing to us about you being ok, that fondness in his voice. I figured you weren’t being tortured if he was buddying up to you and I can tell he’s a good dude and wasn’t just bullshitting.
” He quirks a brow, looking smug. “And he wasn’t the only one assuring me that you were alright. ”
I frown. “Huh?”
“Doc Hastings told me that he has very reliable sources within FOS and promised me that you were alright, that things aren’t necessarily what we think.
That…FOS is a safe place. He gave me that look that told me it needed to remain between us, but you know how good Doc’s instincts are with people.
He knew within five minutes of meeting that Caitlin bitch that she was bad news, and then next thing we know, she’s stealing and trying to kill Marcus.
So, whoever his contacts are at FOS, he trusts them, and I trust Doc. ” He shrugs easily.
I blink, trying to figure out who Doc might know at FOS, and how he knows the truth, and why he would risk it—and Traeger’s potential wrath—for sharing that knowledge with Jonah. I shake my head, deciding to think about that later.
“Plus, I’m a genius,” Jonah adds. He grins and waggles his eyebrows and I roll my eyes. “But I stand by my initial response: you’re falling for him.”
I narrow my eyes at him. This is the one time I curse the fact that he knows me better than I know myself.
“Wynn is a great guy but no, he’s just a friend.”
Jonah snorts and ignores me. “God, I can’t believe it. I’ve been hoping for this for years…”
“Oh fuck off, Cothren.”
He chuckles. “Go ahead and deny it but I think I’m right and I think that’s why you’re so pissed right now and blaming him with your whole fucking chest, Mel.
You’re looking for an excuse to cut and run because things were heading somewhere serious and your emotionally damaged self didn’t know what to do with that. ”
“My emotionally damaged self?” I repeat slowly, mouth gaping. I refuse to even acknowledge anything else he’s said because it might have the tiniest kernel of truth tucked in there somewhere.
“I love you, but you are so emotionally damaged, babe. Rightfully so, of course,” he adds, still smiling, “but damaged all the same.” After a moment he says softer, the grin fading a bit, “You’re scared of losing anyone else.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat. He’s…
maybe in the neighborhood of having me dead to fucking rights, like he always is, but I’m not about to admit it.
I’m sticking to my guns. Jonah had almost been killed and it was Traeger’s fault.
End of discussion. Whatever had been happening between us was squashed now.
I wrap my heart with the anger and fear, imagine heating it and forging it into impenetrable steel.
It’s done.
“Let’s not talk about it anymore right now,” he says, letting me off easy. “Hell, I wasn’t sure I’d ever get to see you again, so let’s just be us for a bit, alright? I’ve missed the hell out of you, Mel.” His eyes shine and mine water again.
“I’ve missed the hell out of you too. Even if you are kind of an ass.”
He huffs out a laugh and then winces. I stiffen, reaching forward to try to do something. What, I have no idea, but I feel like I should do something to help. He waves me off.
“I’m fine, just sore. It’s going to take time to heal. You know the drill—how many ribs have you broken by now? Seven? Nine?”
“We’ll split the difference and call it eight,” I say with a shrug. I know he’s right: it’s just going to take time, but he’s ok. He’s really and truly alright. I didn’t lose him. I let the knowledge chase away some of the deadly cold from my veins. He’s ok.
He smiles and I settle back into the cushions, playing with the hole in his sweatpants.
“Alright then, tell me everything that I’ve missed. Did Kelly ever tell Jack about Randy?”