Chapter 20
Chapter
Twenty
KAEL
Eliza slips in and out of consciousness as we ride deeper into the woods, vanishing beneath the mountains’ shadows.
Her arms slacken, head resting heavy against my chest each time she drifts off, her breath warm and lazy through the fabric of my shirt.
At first, it scares me. “Stay with me, boss,” I say, helpless to do more. I hesitate, tempted to turn around, ride her back into civilization and a hospital.
“Primrose,” my voice cracks. “I can’t lose you now.”
Her head bobs up, eyes blinking slowly. “Why are we stopped?”
“Because I need to know. Are you sick? Did they hurt you?”
She shakes her head, eyes drooping. “No, but they wouldn’t let me sleep. I haven’t in days.”
Her head sinks back against me. I still don’t believe her, hands palming her body, frantic to find some sign of injury. Some hidden hurt.
She sighs at my touch, body alive and arching toward me, lips parting. An invitation.
But I can’t. I won’t.
Only I can’t stop, hands mapping her soft curves, finally giving form to my desire. When my fingers slide between her thighs, she moans—soft and vulnerable, voice throbbing with need.
I can feel it as if it’s my own, fingers sliding back and forth, giving her what she needs.
“Yes,” she whispers, tangling her fingers in my hair, breath warm against my cheek.
“God, I want you,” I sigh, body tight, alive to the last cell. “But I can’t risk hurting you.” I pull back, ashamed of myself.
“I’m fine,” she whispers. “Take me someplace… where we can be alone.”
Her hands tighten at my neck, fingers sliding into my hair. “And promise you’ll never leave me again, Kael. Please.”
Never again.
The words hang on the tip of my tongue. But I can’t say them.
Instead, I growl, “I can’t.”
She doesn’t like my answer. Yet her hands still cling. And my heart wonders how I could walk away twice.
The mountains hum, reverberating through me, intensifying the pulse in my tattoos, where she lives now. Where she’s already a part of me. We take off into the thickening darkness of twilight.
God, this shouldn’t be happening.
But it is… and I can’t stop thinking about it.
My hands slide against her soft flesh again—exploring, devouring through touch where my mouth and tongue long to be.
“You shouldn’t let me,” I grind between my teeth.
“I can’t stop,” she whispers, pupils blown when I sneak a look down.
We can’t make the ride all the way back to my place. It’s too much for Tempest, especially with two riders. Instead, we stop at the mouth of a cave, hidden behind outcroppings of rocks, thick with mineral veins.
The kind of place Wildbloods once camped out, hiding from Sentinel incursions.
Where folks like me and my brother Clemson gathered before and after stagecoach heists to count loot and trade tales. The ache in my chest deepens, sorrow pulling.
He could still be here with me if he hadn’t tied his life to a mortal woman. Never understood it.
Seemed like the ultimate betrayal. A waste beyond measure.
Now all I can think about is sinking between Eliza’s legs and giving her every piece of me. Body. Soul. Mortality.
The cave is long, tall, and narrow. Tempest easily passes inside, though I have to duck my head.
“You ready to stop?” I ask Eliza, pressing my face into the crook of her neck, smelling her sweet perfume. Can’t hold back anymore.
She’s on my fingers now. A better scent than anything I can think of. Her arousal, my drug.
I’m hard as iron thinking about it.
“Yes,” she gasps, hands sliding into my hair, urging me to her. But I pull back, clinging to the fraying remnants of my self-will.
“Can’t,” I grunt. “Not until I know you’re okay.”
She nods, cheeks flushing as I carefully dismount, still balancing her in my arms. I snag the blanket, finding a spot where I spread it out, then recline her back.
“Don’t move.”
“Don’t want to,” she counters, eyes darker than I’ve ever seen them.
It puts my insides in knots. I need her so badly I feel it to the marrow of my bones.
Have to ignore it, Guthrie.
I tie Tempest near the back where a waterfall trickles into a stream along one side. Enough to water her for the night. Spindly green grass lines the stream, too tall from chasing faint shafts of sun come daylight. A tempting meal for an exhausted horse.
I add fresh oats to the mix, and she munches away happily, tail swishing. Then, I build a fire while Eliza stares up through cracks and holes in the ceiling above us at a crystal-clear night burning with diamond-clear stars.
When the fire roars, I dig into the saddlebags, pulling out a loaf of hard bread and a hunk of cheese. From another, I grab a bottle of whiskey and my cantle bag filled with water.
Last time, after the snake bite, when we needed it, it was drained to its last drop. Will never make that mistake twice.
“Not much,” I apologize, kneeling next to her and offering her water. She drinks greedily.
“Not what I’m hungry for,” she says, knocking the breath clean out of me.
I shift uneasily, cock straining behind my jeans. I need her so much that my hands shake. I uncork the bottle. The burn of hard liquor drifts up to my nostrils.
“I don’t know how to do this,” I admit, looking away.
“Do what?”
“This,” I say, motioning between us. “Staying. Never come easy for me.”
“Because you couldn’t?”
“Because the price was too high.” I exhale, mouth shut against the next words. If I don’t say them, though, I’ll never forgive myself. “Now the price is too high if I don’t.”
I take a shot, then pass her the bottle. She wipes the back of her hand across her lips, hissing after she swallows. She offers it to me again, her face softening and her lower lip trembling.
But I don’t want booze.
I want her.
“If we do this,” I growl, leaning closer, pushing the bread and cheese to one side. “It changes everything.”
She nods, nostrils flaring.
“You’d be stuck with me for always. Do you understand?”
She blinks twice, sitting up. “In other words, you’re old-fashioned.”
“You could say as much.”
“Let’s start with when and where you were born.” Her tongue darts out, wetting her lips.
My hand comes up, pushing a lock of hair off her face. I swallow too loudly, reaching into my coat and pulling out the pink ribbon. “Took this from you when I left the flowers. Sorry.”
“Why?” her voice cracks.
“Because I needed to keep a piece of you with me. Something that would prove this hasn’t all been a dream.”
“Why not keep me instead?”
I look away, shaking my head. She still doesn’t get it. My voice is gravel when I answer, “I was born the year of the great Silver Rush to Nevada.”
Her brows knit. “Eighteen fifty-nine.”
I nod once.
“No, you weren’t.”
“I was.”
The blood drains from her face.
My heart melts in my chest. This is harder than I thought it would be. “Eliza, why would I lie about something like that?”
Her brown sugar eyes dart to mine, thick lashes fluttering. “I don’t know. But it can’t be.”
My brows furrow. “You said it yourself. There’s something different about me.”
“But how do you expect me to believe that?”
“Why do you think the government men were questioning you?”
Her eyes round like two dinner plates, her head shaking slightly now. “I don’t know.” She presses fingers to her temple. “They kept asking about aliens and supernatural things, and if there was anything different about you. And what I knew about the bull and why I hid the field from them.”
“Why did you?” I ask, sitting back on my heels.
“Because I didn’t want to lose my family’s ranch.”
“And is that why you want me to stay? For the ranch?”
“Yes… and…”
“And?”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “I can’t say it if you don’t want it.”
“I do want it, boss. That’s the problem. I want it more than I want air. It’s all I can think about.”
Her eyes are two ebony pools.
“But if you don’t trust me. If you refuse to hear who I am, what I am… this will never work between us.”
She exhales sharply, rubbing a hand over her face. “You don’t know how strange this all sounds. What you’re telling me is impossible.”
“You grew up in this town. You know more than you’re letting on.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe and what?”
“And it always scared me to think any of it could be real.”
“That men could fall from the sky and then choose to stay. That some would fall in love and mate with human women. Have children who live longer, act stronger, have things they can’t quite hide.”