Hannah #3
The wood chair beside me groans as Dean pushes out of it, crossing the room to shut the door before coming back and sitting beside me.
“Look,” I say, pointing a shaky hand at the TV.
Donna, the woman who worked the bar last night, steps into view.
“Donna, thank you for speaking with us today. We also had a report of woman who was raped at your bar last night. Do you think these two incidents are related?” The news anchor tilts the microphone to Donna, and I clench Dean’s knee in my hand.
“What happened here last night is tragic, and something that no one should ever have to live with. That poor girl was attacked while enjoying time with her friends. As far as I know, and from what the police have told me, she doesn’t remember anything about her attacker.
” Her soft eyes snap from the anchor beside her to the camera, and it seems like she’s staring through the screen at the four of us.
“But I hope he got the justice he deserved.”
Kasey mutes the TV and we all share a glance.
I’m sure Kasey filled Mallory in on what happened just like Dean did last night while we laid in bed.
“What’s done is done,” Mallory says quietly, looking up to lock eyes with Kasey.
“I know what you two did.” Her gaze swings to Dean, tears falling down her cheeks.
“But as far as any police are concerned, I have no idea what happened after he left me on the bathroom floor. I just want to move on from this.” With a nod, I give her a smile, then we move the conversation into lighter topics before a doctor comes in to do one last check before releasing her.
I give her a long, tight hug and promise to check in soon.
We both stifle a laugh at how stiff Dean goes when Kasey rounds the bed and pulls him into a tight embrace.
Dean literally has to peel Kasey off him with a groan of disgust, but I see the slight tip of his lips as he slaps Kasey on the shoulder before tipping his chin in Mallory’s direction and leading me out of the room.
That night when we lay in bed, our naked bodies intertwined, his fingers lazily running through my hair. “Dean?”
He answers with a hum, his fingers never pausing their path through my tangles.
I look up at him and ask the question that’s been burning in my mind since that night in the tack room.
“Why did you pick me up that night?”
He’s quiet for a while before he responds.
“Darlin’, I’m sure you know by now there isn’t much I wouldn’t do for you.
” Another long pause, and I count the seconds that pass by with the steady beating of my heart.
“Even back then something pulled me to you. I left a piece of my heart with you in that ambulance that night, and I never fully got it back until they announced your name on your first ride back.” My heart pounds against my chest like it’s trying to break through and run to him.
His words stoke that fire in my heart that I’ve long since put out.
A slow tear falls from my eyes and lands against his bare chest. If he feels it, he doesn’t bring any attention to it.
No other words are spoken, just the sound of the crickets outside the open screen door and the breeze moving through the trees.
The days pass in a blur. I’ve never wanted to stay in one place for as long as I do right now.
We spent our time off eating breakfast across from each other at the large wood table then taking the horses out on a new trail, marveling at the beauty around us.
It became more frequent that I’d look over at Dean and catch him staring at me in a way that had my stomach flipping and heart rate picking up to a concerning rate.
Those butterflies never ceased to flutter uncontrollably when he turned those gray-blue eyes on me.
In the evenings, we’d cook dinner together and settle on the couch to watch trashy TV.
We never lasted long on that couch before I’d climb in his lap and his tongue would claim my mouth.
I don’t remember a time where I’ve been as content as I have been these past few days, and the weight of it all crashing around me has my eyes stinging with tears.
The morning I need to leave, we pack and dress in our usual comfortable silence.
I watch him from the corner of my eye as he meticulously folds his clothes, packing his bag like it’s a game of Tetris.
My stomach is in knots with anxiety. We haven't spoken about when we’ll see each other next.
I want to know where he’ll be, I want to ask for his number.
Even after the way he looked into my eyes with such determination when he told me he’d put a baby in me one day.
And the way that sex doesn’t feel like fucking anymore.
But there is still a piece of me that doubts his feelings are real.
Maybe he just said those things so we wouldn’t have to feel awkward while staying in the same bed these past few days.
I’m so lost in my thoughts that I don’t feel him come up behind me and circle me in his arms. I sag against him, powerless to him every time he touches me.
“Are you ready for this weekend?” I nod, but don’t say anything, cherishing the way his arms feel wrapped around me.
“Yeah, it should be a good ride.”
“Hell yeah, it will.” He gives my ass a tap then turns back to his bag.
“Where are you headed?” I try to sound casual, but my voice comes out all high pitched. He looks over at me, one side of his mouth tipping up.
“Colorado,” he says with a shrug.
“Wh-Wait, where in Colorado?” I ask, taking a step in his direction.
He turns, leaning one shoulder against the dresser and crossing his ankles.
“Evergreen,” he says, his eyes lighting up and overtaking his usually stoic face.
My jaw drops open. “Evergreen? That’s where I’ll be.”
“I know, darlin’,” he says with another shrug, those eyes never leaving mine.
“How did you know that?” I ask, taking another step towards him.
“I have my ways to keep an eye on you, baby.”
The space between us disappears, my arm circling his waist. If he’s where I’ll be, then I don’t need his number. Not yet, at least. The moment I save him in my phone, I’ll be crossing into dangerous territory.
“Will your family be there?” I remember the news article saying that he is originally from Colorado. The thought of meeting his family and getting an insight into who raised him excites me. Instead, his body stiffens, his arms falling away when he turns back to his bag, zipping it up roughly.
“They aren’t around anymore.” The words are filled with pain, and I pull him against me again, squeezing him tight. I know he doesn't want to talk about it, so I don’t push him to tell me more. But I want him to know that I can relate to the pain of losing my family.
“I’m so sorry, Dean. I wish I could say that the pain gets better as time goes by, but there will always be a part of me that died along with my parents.
” Why doesn’t he hold me back? Is the loss still too fresh, still too painful to come to terms with?
So I leave him with a simple, “I’m here for you, for as long as you need it. ”
With a swift kiss to the place on my temple that turns me to mush every time, he turns, leaving me standing in the room we hardly left these past few days.
Numbly, I grab my bag, folding another pair of jeans and neatly placing it inside before zipping it closed.
I give the room one last look, reliving each night we laid beside each other, every kiss and moan that somehow dug this man deeper beneath my skin.
The silence between us had shifted into an uncomfortable quiet while we lock up, and he walks me to the door of my truck without speaking another word.
I’m not sure what happened to his family, but clearly it’s recent enough that he hasn’t settled with it yet.
Outside against the door of my truck, Dean finally pulls me back into his chest. “Well, I guess I’ll see you in Evergreen,” I say, resting my chin against his chest to look up into his eyes.
“I’ll be there, baby.” His beard tickles my nose as he rests his forehead against mine.