Chapter 18
Sammy
The alley behind the building is deserted and quiet, the brick behind me cool enough to chill my flushed cheek, and the darkness heavy enough that it just might hide the expression on my face.
I can’t believe I did that.
I can’t believe I did that.
I’ve lived here my whole life and know every single person in town, but I’ve never involved myself in town business.
At least not as far as the council’s concerned.
Those men have been elected and are in charge of important things like putting up new stoplights and deciding on whether we need another doctor in town.
Deciding, evidently, whether to fire the current sheriff or not.
I blow out a small breath and press my cheek to the brickwork, trying to remember how to breathe. I don’t usually care about speaking in public–hell, I speak before I think most times–but I have never, not once, spoken out about something this important.
I’ve certainly never supported someone that the rest of the town seems to be set on hating.
Though the minute I said something, I noticed they all came down on my side, laughing and nodding like they’d been thinking the same thing the whole time.
Probably because they know I’m right.
Look, I don’t like Bear. I don’t even know if I trust him. But I know he’s not doing the bad job archie banker was trying to say he was, and I know sure as shit that even if he made a mistake, he deserves another shot.
What’s more, I know that he belongs to this town, heart and soul, just like we all do. And that the people here need to give him the space to prove that rather than shutting him out just because he’s acting like an outsider.
Hell, if I knew people were trying to run me out, I’d act like a stranger, too.
I turn and press my back against the wall, still trying to steady my breath, and suddenly notice that the alley has gotten even darker since I’ve been standing here.
I look to the right, but that’s the end of the alley and is too dark to see down.
When I turn and look to the left, where the open end lets in the light, I jerk in surprise.
I thought I was in here alone.
I was wrong.
A man stands in the mouth of the alley, and though I feel a thrill of fear go through me at this intrusion, I realize a moment later that I’ve got nothing to fear.
He’s in shadow, the streetlight against his back, but I know the cock of that head.
I know the broad shoulders and narrow hips.
And I recognize the squeeze of that left hand, like he wants to grab something to steady him.
Bear.
He comes forward so quickly I don’t have time to move, and I shrink back against the wall, suddenly wondering if this is a good idea after all.
The last time I was alone with the man he was trailing kisses down my bare neck while his fingers were knuckle-deep inside me, and I haven’t been able to wipe the mark of him off my skin.
I’m not sure I can take another experience like that.
Though my body is coming alive at the thought.
“Bear,” I say, my voice too loud in the night.
He reaches me and puts a hand over my mouth, motioning for me to be quiet, and though I want to fight him, want to rail against him for daring to try to shut me up, I nod once to show him I understand.
I don’t know what he wants, but I can agree to be quiet until he tells me.
Hopefully he’s here to say thank you.
Instead of saying anything, though, he just stands there for several moments, his hand over my mouth and his eyes searching mine.
They’re covered in shadow, the scant light making his face look sharper than it ever has, and I catch my breath.
Bear has always had an open, laughing face, capable of charming anyone if he tries to use it, though he doesn’t talk to as many people as I would expect him to.
But the balance is the dark side, the temper, the inability to see things someone else’s way.
That’s the version of him that’s standing in front of me right now, and I’ve never liked that version.
Christ, maybe I’m in trouble after all.
But when he takes another step forward and the light finally falls across his face, I see that this isn’t the dark version of Bear at all.
It’s a version I’ve never seen before. His eyes are open and honest, deep and fathomless as the sky above, and I think I might be seeing down to his soul.
The mouth that twists when he’s angry is relaxed, his lips full and lush, and he looks. ..
God, he looks young. Younger than any man his age has a right to look.
He takes his hand from my mouth and brushes his fingers softly against my lips, his eyes following the movement as he takes them out over my jaw and up to my ear, cupping my cheek like he’s holding the most delicate, precious thing he’s ever seen.
I stare up at him, breathless and frightened, and though I don’t know what’s happening, I feel as though there’s a chasm stretching in front of me, bottomless and incredibly dangerous.
And if I take one step, I’m going to fall into it, and no one is going to save me.
Except maybe Bear.
“Sammy,” he whispers. “What did you do?”
What?
“What do you mean what did I do?” I ask, somewhat offended. “What did I do about what?”
“Why did you do that?”
Now I’m starting to get mad. Honestly, has the man suddenly lost his ability to use full sentences? “Why did I do what?”
He bites his lips and pulls my lower lip down, watching his actions like they’re the most important thing in the world, and I watch him, half angry and half shocked. This isn’t the man I’ve met before. He’s not charming or brash or bragging. There’s no bossiness here. No bravado.
Is this... Is this who he really is? This soft, gentle man who evidently can’t manage to use words?
Suddenly I’m tired of this game and his inability to ask what he really means. The truth is, I know exactly what he’s asking. And the answer is simple.
“I did it because you’re ours,” I tell him simply. “And I’m not going to stand here and watch anyone abuse someone who belongs to us.”
His eyebrows tip up and his face takes on an entirely new expression, one of a man who’s hearing something he’s never heard before, and something that gets under his skin and expands until he can hardly stand it.
I don’t know what’s going on his head or heart right now, but when he leans down and gently brushes his lips across my own, I welcome him.
I open my own mouth and let him slide his tongue in, but this kiss is light and gentle, soft and exploring.
There are no teeth here, only shallow breaths and the butterflies racing through my stomach.
He gives me every piece of him and nothing at all at the same time, his lips whispering to mine in a way that only my heart understands.
And when he pulls back, I know my life is never going to be the same.
I don’t know this man, don’t understand him, and I hate so many of the things he’s done in his life.
But he’s handing me some soft, vulnerable piece of himself right now, and I don’t know how to do deal with that.
In fact, it feels too big to hold. Too frightening to comprehend or even want. And in that moment, I realize that I’m standing in an alley in town with my stepfather pressed up against me like he owns me, our souls communicating on a level I don’t understand or particularly like.
He’s already on the verge of getting run out of town and I just took my reputation in my hands and risked it all by standing up for him in that council meeting. The last thing either of us needs is for someone to walk into the alley and see us like this.
I put my hands on his chest and push, forcing him to give me some space, and give him the cockiest grin I can muster.
“I can’t do this,” I whisper.
I turn and walk away without waiting for an answer, my eyes on the opening of the alley and my brain intent on finding Cameron, who has never done anything unexpected and will always be my safe space.
I need someone dependable right now. Someone who isn’t going to switch personalities at the drop of a hat.
As I walk, I get a text, and when I look down I see it’s another message from the same unknown number. I don’t have time for that right now either, though, and I put that aside in favor of finding Cameron.
My brain is screaming that I need french fries from the diner with my best friend. Salty fries and a milkshake and someone to tell me that I’m still the same girl I was this morning. That I’m safe and whole and okay.
Though a small voice is pointing out that I can’t possibly be whole when I’m walking away and leaving my heart in the alley behind me.
With a man I’m no longer sure I even know.