Chapter 5
CAT
“ Bitchmotherfucker…” When Arlen gets going, he can swear with the best of them.
I guess I should expect nothing less from a Marine who had to fend for himself as a child, abandoned by both parents and never really cared for by anyone.
My heart breaks for him.
“Viciouscuntfencefucker…”
My ears burn, and I can’t help but laugh.
We’re deep in the woods at the edge of his property line. The chain-link fence weaves between trees like some metal snake, establishing the boundary of the dogs’ world.
It must have been hard work to lay out this much fencing on all this uneven forest floor. But the dogs get six acres to explore freely and safely. For them, I think Arlen would run fence across the entire mountain.
In the night, a massive branch broke off from one of the trees above this section of fence. It brought down a good ten feet of chain-link, ripping a pole right out of the ground. Arlen muscles the branch off and tries to get the pole back in the wet earth.
Watching him work is equal parts arousing and terrifying.
He’s stripped off his thick flannel, wearing only a white t-shirt that strangles his cannon arms. He grips the pole and mashes it down. All those muscles bulge with effort, flushed and sweaty as he curses up a fiercer storm than the one that hit last night.
I have to fan myself as I watch.
Some of the dogs come to investigate, and he orders them off with a few curt grunts that they seem quite accustomed to.
“If I don’t get this damn thing in the ground, I’ll have to stand out here all night just to make sure no fucking coyotes sneak onto the property.” He stumbles over some of the chain-link. “You goddamn devil fence!”
His commitment is admirable, if not a little humorous.
“Let me help.” I steady myself and grab the pole with him.
“I got it…”
“Clearly not,” I say. “You have another set of hands, Arlen. Use them.”
He looks up, snarls a bit, and drops his gaze to the ground. “Fine. On three, we ram this fucker into the earth.”
“Aye, sir.”
Arlen hides his smile. “One. Two. Three!”
Now, I’m growling right along with him. The pole starts to dig a few inches before it slides out from under us. I shriek, we fall, and I find myself resting atop Arlen’s beefy body, hand on his chest.
We’re covered in mud.
His face is a mix of fuming rage at the devil fence and a stunned, embarrassed flush that comes over his cheeks and spreads to his widening eyes.
I burst into laughter.
“Not funny,” he says, clearly smiling under that beard. “That pole is a demon.”
“Well, let’s slay it, then.”
I climb off, fingers digging into his abs as I push myself up. Arlen looks at my outstretched arm as if I’m making a joke.
“Come on,” I say. “I’m stout.”
He arches an eyebrow before taking my hand.
I really have to plant my feet and lean back to even offer him a fraction of help up, but I do my part.
“Stronger than you look,” he grunts, cleaning his hands on his jeans.
“I’ve wrangled plenty of big dogs,” I say. “I do lots of grooming in my volunteer work. Makes me strong.”
Arlen is messing with the pole again, jabbing it at the hole in the ground.
“If I was smart, I’d walk back and get the damn auger.”
“What’s an auger?”
Arlen makes a drilling motion with his hand. “The tool that would make this simple. I’m just being stubborn. The damn hole is still there. It’ll be raining again before I get back with that thing.”
“Should we try again?”
Arlen meets my eyes, nods, and claps his beefy hands together. “I’m getting this pole in the ground if it’s the last thing I do. One more go.”
“I’m with you.” I throw him a salute. “Is that right? Like this?”
Arlen smiles, reaches up, and adjusts the position of my hand. “There,” he says, looking down at my lips. “Perfect.”
Here we are, filthy and sweating, chests heaving as our faces drift slowly together.
A man fifteen years older than me. A hermit who lives on a mountain with almost thirty dogs. The closer his face gets to mine, the more my eyes dig into the tracks of wisdom running below his eyes.
In those lines, I see new paths for my life, paths that take me away from the city for good.
And they all start with our lips meeting for the first time.
I close my eyes, waiting for him to kiss me.
“Come on,” he says. “Let’s get this done.”
When I open my eyes, he’s trying to force the pole into the ground again, cursing up a storm.
With the pole down and the earth packed in around it, we head back just as rain starts falling again. It’s not as much of a storm as last night, but it’s quickly picking up. I’m already soaked by the time we reach the barn.
Arlen barks orders at the dogs and me, getting everyone into the barn for the night. I laugh watching them all dart playfully around in the rain, teasing poor Arlen. Miles and Dane scamper inside, still a little scared of the rain.
“You’re getting all wet!” he roars at the beagle who seems to have selective hearing. “Get in there, Daisy!”
The beagle bays defiantly, runs in a few tight circles, and bolts into the barn.
With her inside, the space heaters on, and all the dogs shaking out, we get the doors shut.
“Run! Run!” Arlen calls playfully. “Into the house!”
I squeal, running across the wet field, getting more drenched with every stride. Arlen runs out ahead of me, so strong and fast. It’s like watching a wolf chase prey.
He takes the porch steps in two big strides, and I follow carefully.
That white shirt is soaked and translucent, outlining every sharply defined muscle on his body. The fabric sticks to him, challenging me to peel it off.
As he’s opening the sliding door, standing there dripping wet, I decide that I don’t want to go into the house.
I want to stay out here in the rain with him.
“What are you doing?” he asks, water dripping off his beard. “Come on. Let’s get dry.”
I shake my head slowly. “Not until you tell me.”
“Tell you what?” he growls. “Cat, get inside—“
“Tell me why you didn’t kiss me back there.”
Arlen closes his mouth. He stares at me through the falling rain, one hand still on the door.
I take a step back toward the porch railing. “Tell me,” I say. “Or I’m not coming inside. I’ll stand out here all night.”
“You won’t.” He drifts away from the door. “I’ll carry you inside.”
“I won’t let you.”
The porch shakes as he closes the distance, towering over me.
“You can’t stop me,” he says.
In those multicolored eyes, I see frustration building.
Those giant hands rise like he means to take my face in his hands. His fingers flex, but he restrains himself.
“And that’s why I didn’t kiss you…” His gaze drips down my body like rain. Nothing is kept from him. He drinks me in completely, and I shudder beneath him. “You don’t know what’s going on in my head, Cat. Since I saw you lying there in the mud… the things I’ve been thinking…”
My back hits the railing.
Nowhere else to go.
I’ve tempted the beast, and now I’m cornered.
“I want to know.” I raise my voice over the pounding rain. “Don’t you get that? Another day is gone, and I still haven’t left. Do you think I’m about to make that six-hour drive? You think you’re the only one feeling something? Don’t be stupid, Arlen.”
“You’re not feeling what I’m feeling!”
His words erupt from his lips. If my eyes were closed, I’d think some wild animal was roaring in my face. The heat of his breath hits me, so fierce and alive.
“You can’t be,” he growls, finally closing his fingers around my arms. “It’s fucking madness.
I’ve never wanted anything this badly. I’ve never been so fucking consumed with a singular thought.
I didn’t sleep last night, Cat. I stared into the fire, praying that I could keep myself from climbing the stairs, throwing off your blankets, and taking you in my bed.
All day, all I’ve been able to think about is your lips…
your body… those perfect green eyes. And then I see you with the dogs. And you listen to me. And… and…”
His face is a contorted mess.
All that desire and pain and rage inside of him looks like it’s trying to twist free from his lips. I want to set it all free. I want to be the thing that liberates and enslaves him.
“You should have climbed those stairs last night,” I say, chest heaving. “You should have kissed me in the woods. Arlen… you could have kissed me yesterday when I was lying in the mud, and I would have kissed you back—“
His lips set themselves free.
The rain tries to get between us, but there’s no space to fill. We come together with a deep, cathartic exhale that makes me feel lighter than a snowflake drifting over the mountain.
He tastes of coffee, rich and warm.
He kisses me like our entire lives depend on this moment. My whole world blurs, flips, and floats. Everything vanishes except his tongue meeting mine, his hands squeezing my arms, and the way his hard body presses against me.
If he’s been consumed by his thoughts, I’m devoured by his kiss.
Everything he told me makes sense through the sensation of his touch. He holds me greedily. His fingers dig so deeply that they start to hurt. And even as my breath becomes short, even as stars explode in my vision, he gives no sign of ever breaking this kiss… our first kiss.
My eyelids flutter open to find him an inch from my face, panting like a beast.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” he says lowly, barely audible over the rain beating down on us. “I shouldn’t…”
I shake my head. Our noses brush together, and he shudders.
“No, Arlen,” I say. “You shouldn’t have done that now .”
He looks taken aback.
I cup his face and lose my fingers in his beard.
“You should have done that yesterday …”