Chapter 6 #2
She doesn't argue. Toes off the boots. Peels the flannel off her arms and lays it next to the fire to dry. Underneath, she's got a long-sleeved gray top, also wet, but less so. She wraps her arms around herself.
I pull off my own jacket. Heavier canvas. Lining, still dry.
"Put this on."
"You'll freeze."
"I run hot. Put it on."
She pulls it on. It comes down to her thighs. The sleeves swallow her hands. She makes a small sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh and tucks her chin down into the collar.
"Better?"
"Better."
I sit with my back against the log wall, one knee up. The fire's catching good. Smoke pulling clean up the chimney. She scoots over. Closer. Then closer again.
"Can I?"
"Yeah."
She leans into my side. Tucks under my arm and I settle my arm around her shoulders. She's still trembling. The shakes ease slowly.
I tell myself I'm only doing this so she doesn't go hypothermic.
I'm a goddamn liar.
The rain hammers on the tin. Steady. Loud. The kind of weather that makes a small space feel smaller. Her head's against my chest. Her braid's come most of the way loose. Wet pieces of hair are stuck to her temple and her neck.
"Luke?"
"Yeah."
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"All of it." Her voice is quiet against my shirt. "The lessons. The ride. This. The fire. The…everything. I haven't said it right yet."
"You don't have to say it."
"I do."
She tips her face up.
She's right there. Maybe four inches between us. Hair still dripping. Eyes dark. Lips slightly parted because she's trying to figure out how to say a thing.
I look at her mouth. I don’t mean to. I do.
She sees me do it.
The trembling slows down till it stops. Something shifts in her face. Not fear. Not the careful, polite thing she does when she's pulling herself together. Something else. Quieter. Bolder.
"Luke."
"Anna."
"I'm not very good at this."
"At what."
"At being the kind of woman who says what she wants."
My pulse is doing something I'm going to have to confront later.
"Try."
Her hand comes up. Slow. Like she's giving me a chance to stop her. She presses her palm flat to my chest, right over my heart, where she has to know exactly what kind of state I'm in. She lifts her chin.
She kisses me.
Soft. Tentative. The kind of kiss a woman gives when she's been arguing herself out of it and lost.
I hold still for half a second.
Then I am not holding still anymore.
I bring my hand up to the side of her jaw.
Tilt her face. Kiss her back like I have wanted to since the second she walked into Gabe's office and looked at me like I might be the thing she was running from.
Slow. Deep. Open. She makes a small sound against my mouth, surprised, and her fingers fist the front of my shirt.
She tastes like rain, and the cinnamon gum she chews, and something underneath that is just her, and I lose about three minutes of my life to it.
Maybe four. The fire snaps in front of us.
The rain pounds the roof. My hand slides up into her wet hair, and her free hand moves up to my jaw, and the kiss goes from a question to an answer, and the answer is yes.
I pull back enough to look at her. Her lips are flushed. Eyes half-closed. Breathing fast and not from the cold this time.
"Anna."
"Don't say we shouldn't."
"I wasn't gonna."
"Oh."
She laughs. Small. Stunned. I am stupidly in love with that laugh and that's a problem for later. I lean back in.
Her mouth opens under mine. Her tongue, careful at first, then less careful. My hand at her jaw slides down to her throat, thumb at her pulse, feeling it kick. She lets out a breath I feel in my chest.
The rain's letting up. Some part of me knows that. The hammer on the tin is easing into a patter. I am not stopping. I'm just settling in deeper, getting my arm under her, pulling her halfway into my lap because why the hell not, when…
"LUKE! ANNA"
Madison.
Outside.
Yelling.
Footfalls on wet leaves. Hard. Coming up the spur.
Anna goes rigid. My hand drops from her throat to her shoulder. We're both off the floor before I've thought about it, her stumbling into her boots, me already at the door.
"LUKE, ANNA, where are you?"
"Madison."
I push the door open.
She's coming up the path in waterlogged sneakers, soaked through, hair plastered to her face, phone in her hand, clearly been in the rain for a while.
She is not smiling. She is not joking. She is not the woman who stood on my porch earlier this week, making lewd jokes about pinned bodies.
She skids to a stop ten feet from the lean-to. Hand on her side. Catching her breath.
"There you are. Christ. I went to the cabin, and you were both gone, and Diego said you took her up the ridge, and I..."
"Madison." I keep my voice level. "What happened?"
She holds up a finger. Breathing.
Anna comes up beside me. Boots half-laced. Cheeks flushed from the kiss, the cold, both. "Madi. What's wrong?"
"A package came." Madison straightens. "To the main house. About forty minutes ago. I almost didn't think anything of it because we get deliveries all day, distillery shipments, ranch stuff, whatever."
"Madi, breathe. You’re not making sense."
"Anna." Madison's eyes are on her. Hard. Steady. "It's got your name on it."
The world goes quiet.
The rain's still coming, lighter now. The fire's snapping behind us. Anna's hand finds my forearm and grips it hard enough to bruise.
"What?" she whispers.
"Your name. Anna Kim. Hand-printed. No return address." Madison swallows. "Gabe wouldn't let anyone touch it. It's sitting on the porch waiting for us."
I look down at the woman who, ninety seconds ago, was kissing me like the world was small enough to fit in this room.
Her face is white.
"Get the horses." My voice comes out flat. "We're going. Now!"