CHAPTER THIRTEEN #2
He pins me to him, his chest brushing mine as he takes a deep breath, like I’m his favorite apple pie and he’s been dying for a taste. Then his mouth claims mine again, greedy and deep, like he’s trying to burn himself into me.
The whole universe shrinks down to him. Nothing else exists but James, his kiss—
“Okay, okay, go do something else, Hill.”
I break the kiss with a small gasp, twist my head to the side, and Lorelai’s right there, sitting next to me like she’s been there all along.
“Sarah needs to breathe, and I need to lie down right here. Go cool off or something,” she says, wearing the biggest shit-eating grin.
James slowly turns his head to glare at Lorelai. Watching him try to control his temper while she’s poking at him is officially my new favorite sport. He lifts one eyebrow, giving her that Are you serious right now? look.
“Careful, Lorelai. Not everyone gets away with talking to me like that,” he says, voice low and loaded.
“Good thing I’m not just anyone,” she shoots back. “Now go watch the road with the little boy.” She jerks her chin toward Michael, who’s standing guard out on the highway.
Michael’s head snaps toward her like he caught the insult from a mile away.
“Little boy, my ass!” he shouts, narrowing his eyes at her from the middle of the road. And Lorelai’s grin only gets wider.
James locks eyes with me again, and the fire’s still there, hotter than ever.
“Next time, I’m not stopping for anything. Or anyone.”
I take a deep breath as I watch him head toward the road to join Michael on lookout.
Lorelai tosses her backpack into the back of the truck behind us and rummages through it for a moment before pulling out two strawberry lollipops. She sticks one between her lips and hands me the other.
“Hey, girl, it’s not chocolate, but it’s sweet.”
“Thanks,” I say, unwrapping mine and popping it in my mouth. The strawberry taste kinda brings me back to Earth. I stretch out a little and look over at her. “So, Lorelai, I noticed in the cave you love to cook.”
She taps the lollipop against her lips. “It’s not just cooking, honey. It’s an art. And I make masterpieces.”
From under the truck’s hood, Ryan chuckles. He’s still half-swallowed by the truck, but he’s clearly listening.
I swirl my lollipop in my mouth, thinking. “Can you teach me? At least how to make an apple pie? It’s James’s favorite.”
Lorelai tilts her head, the lollipop dangling from her lips as she eyes me like she’s got a secret. “Honey, from the way he looks at you, I think you’re his favorite food.”
Ryan’s laugh rings out again, this time even louder. I instantly feel my face heat up. No mirror needed; I know I’m as red as the lollipop in my hand.
Lorelai snaps her fingers in Ryan’s direction. “Hey! Eyes and ears on the truck.”
“Yes, pumpkin,” Ryan says, his head popping up from under the hood to meet her gaze.
Lorelai keeps that bossy face on, but I don’t miss the blush creeping up her cheeks.
I clear my throat, trying to break whatever moment is happening between them. “So… about the pie? Can you teach me?”
Lorelai’s attention snaps back to me. She absentmindedly twists a lock of her hair around her finger. “All right, let’s make a deal. You teach me how to make those perfect braids you’re always rocking, and I’ll teach you how to make the best apple pie James has ever had.”
I smile and raise my lollipop as a toast. “Deal.”
We seal the deal with a clink of candy sticks.
I shift to get comfy, unclip my gun from the holster, and set it down within reach, just in case. We lie back in the truck bed, using our backpacks as pillows. The metal’s still hard, but it’s the closest thing to heaven we’ve had in days.
The sun drifts across the sky as our lollipops disappear bit by bit. By hour two, or maybe three, Ryan finally straightens up, wiping his greasy hands on his jeans. “She’s still got life. Just needs gas and two tires. Then we’re good to go.”
I sit up on the edge of the truck bed, stretching my legs out. James moves to my side, leaning against the bed, while Michael climbs all the way up to the roof. His cap’s pulled low, shielding his eyes from the glare as he points north, all confident.
“There’s probably a gas station a mile or two up the highway,” he says. “Parking lots usually have one close by.”
Ryan nods. “Sounds like a plan.”
Lorelai shifts on the truck bed, still leaning against her backpack. She waves a lazy hand in Ryan’s direction. “Ryan, baby, I love you, but my feet have officially gone on strike. Just thinking about walking to a gas station makes me want to cry. And don’t even ask me to carry anything.”
Ryan frowns. “But pumpkin, we can’t just leave you here alone.”
Lorelai groans dramatically and covers her face with both hands.
I stay quiet at first, pressing my fingers to my temple. My head’s pounding again, worse than before, and just the thought of standing makes me queasy. If I go, James will notice how slow I’m moving, how tired I really am, and he’ll start asking questions I’m not ready to answer.
Before Ryan can say anything else, I sigh and cut in. “I’m not going either. Sorry, boys, but it’s too hot today. I’m not walking anywhere in this heat.”
James doesn’t say a word. Just shifts closer, his hand settling on my thigh.
Lorelai claps her hands together. “Perfect! It’s settled then. Sarah and I will hold down the fort. You boys can handle the heavy lifting.”
I flash her a smile, but it fades fast when I catch a glimpse of James’s face.
He’s not smiling. In fact, his expression is a brick wall.
“No.”
That’s all he says. Just no.
Sometimes I think he forgets who he fell in love with. Me. The woman who never takes no for an answer. And today’s not the day I start.
I cross my arms. “There’s no danger here, James, and I’m not some fragile little porcelain cup, okay? I’m not gonna break.”
His gaze burns into me, searching for the magic words that’ll make me back down. But there aren’t any.
I’ve seen the way he watches over me, especially after I hit my head on that rock in the river. He thinks I’m made of glass now. And it bugs me.
I know I’m small, and I’m not as strong as the rest of them, but I don’t care. No one’s gonna tell me I’m too weak to take care of myself.
His eyes drift back to the highway. It’s dead quiet. And somehow, that silence is scaring him more than he’s willing to admit.
“Come on, James,” Lorelai says, draping an arm over my shoulder. “There’s not a soul around for miles. What’s the worst that could happen?”
I lock eyes with him, daring him to argue. He knows that look. He’s seen it a hundred times before. He knows that once I’ve made up my mind, there’s not a damn thing anyone can do to stop me.
“Michael?” James calls out, looking for backup. He knows he’s losing this one, and it’s kind of funny watching him scramble.
Michael jumps down from the roof and lands just beside the truck bed, his boots thudding softly on the dirt.
He catches my eye, and something in his expression hits me straight in the chest. It’s familiar. Way too familiar. It’s the same look my dad used to give me.
“You got your pocketknife?” Michael asks, his tone sharp.
I tap my pocket lightly. “Right here. I got this, big brother.”
Michael hesitates, his eyes scanning me like he’s checking for cracks. Finally, he nods. “Fine. You can stay.”
I immediately turn to James, who’s already watching me.
He tucks one of my braids behind my ear. “Are you sure? I don’t like the idea of us splitting up.”
“We’ll be fine. I’ll be right here waiting for you.” My hand brushes against the gun at my side, the gesture more for him than for me.
He stares at me for a beat longer, long enough that I can see the wheels turning in his head. He’s weighing every possible risk. And yeah, a part of me loves how much he cares. But another part of me burns to prove I can stand on my own.
“All right,” he finally says. “But we won’t be long. And if anything—anything at all—happens, you fire that gun, and I’ll come running.”