Chapter 11
Eric couldn’t get comfortable. He was situated between a cooler and a wrought iron pot filled with oil on one side. On the other, a few chairs and a stack of wood.
He finally settled on his back, looking up at the stars.
Charlie was so close, just on the other side of a few scraps of metal and glass.
His intense yearning for her wouldn’t go away. He turned on his side. But the bottom of his truck dug into his shoulders. He flipped around on his back again. Was she, too, yearning for closeness? He’d been half afraid to stay in the cabin, afraid he’d want to kiss her all night, and then where would that leave them? Tucking his palms under his head, he tried to sleep.
Just as he dozed off, he heard a rustling nearby. Really close.
Wide awake and heart pounding, he strained to hear. Maybe he shouldn’t have encouraged the ghost stories last night.
But this was no ghost. It huffed and puffed.
He knew that sound.
Black bear.
Adrenaline shot through him. He was probably lured in by the smell of the meat. Meat that was still in a cooler right next to his head!
A black bear wouldn’t climb into his truck, would it?
Just as he thought this, a black head appeared at the tailgate. The bear snorted.
Armed with only a pocketknife, he was no match to go against a wild predator.
In one jump, he leapt up and dove into the moonroof.
Charlie screamed.
Eric landed on the center console and rolled into a seat, breathing hard.
In the backseat, Charlie was upright, clutching the quilt to her heart. “What is going on?”
“Bear,” he got out between harried breaths. He pointed toward the back window, where the bear climbed over his tailgate and into the bed of the truck.
Charlie screamed again.
The bear raised its head and looked around then continued toward the cooler.
The bear pawed it with his forefoot, sniffing the outside.
“Can he smell fear?” Charlie whispered.
“What?”
“You know. Like in the movies when they say animals can smell fear.”
“I don’t know if they can smell fear, but he can definitely smell us. But he doesn’t care right now because he can also smell raw meat.” Eric hadn’t planned on being here all night, or he would’ve had someone else take the meat home. Of all the nights and times to have a bear in your truck.
“Can we just scare him away?”
Eric ran a thumb across his lip. “I don’t know if his desire for food is greater than his fear. But I can try.”
“What are you doing to do?” Charlotte pulled on his shirt. “Don’t go out there.”
“I’ll be careful.” Standing through the moonroof, Eric made himself look bigger. He yelled and huffed and puffed.
The bear shied away at first but then went back to the cooler. It was supposed to be bear proof.
Eric tried again. The bear didn’t seem too frightened. Eric ducked back inside.
“Do we have anything we can throw at him?”
She shrugged. “I have my shoes?”
“You might need them in case we have to get out and run.”
“Run?” Charlie’s voice squeaked. “There is no way I could outrun a bear.”
“Valid.”
The bear broke open the cooler—so much for it being bear proof—and started munching on a few steaks, lying down on the quilts, making himself quite at home and gnawing on the thing between its forepaws.
“Great. Now he’s broken into the cooler!”
And got cow blood on his mother’s quilt.
“Now he won’t leave because he’s got his meat.” Eric leaned back in the driver’s side. A small honk came from the car. His elbow hit the horn.
Eric tried again. Honking with more ferocity and intensity. “Here, you honk. I’ll yell through the moonroof again.”
Charlotte climbed beside him and in an awkward movement, traded places with him, brushing thighs.
“Okay, ready,” she said, once she was situated.
Eric stood through the moonroof and yelled.
Behind him, the horn went nuts as if she were a practiced New York cab driver.
The bear stood with the remaining steak in its mouth then retreated out the back gate and galloped across the grass back into the woods. The quilts were trashed. His poor mom worked so hard on those. He hoped they weren’t ruined.
Eric sank inside the cab, calming his adrenaline.
Charlie stopped her honking. “Is it gone?”
“He’s gone.” He fanned his head with his hat and put it back on. “You okay?”
“Just shaking. That was crazy.”
Her round eyes were wide. She sat with her back completely rigid. He wished he could comfort her in his arms. “I’ve never had that happen before.”
“Told you there were wild animals. You are not going back out there.” She returned to the back seat, opened the quilt and slid inside.
He didn’t disagree with her this time. “I’ll sleep in here in the passenger’s side.” He settled in. “Mind if I lean the chair back?”
“Go ahead.”
Leaning the chair back to just above her legs stretched out on the bench behind him, he wiggled around, trying to get comfortable. The chilled breeze coming from the moonroof didn’t help. He crossed his arms over his chest to keep the heat in.
He was strangely aware of Charlotte’s every move only a few feet from him in the darkness.
“I don’t know if I can sleep after the bear attack,” Charlotte said from the other side of the cab.
“Me neither.” He tilted his head back to see her. “But I’ll stay up and watch if you want to try to sleep.”
“Hmmm. I don’t know if that gives me much comfort.”
“Oh, ho!” He faced front, accidentally bumping something hanging from the rearview mirror. He’d forgotten he’d hung the ring there.
“What’s that hanging there?”
“Oh that? Do you recognize it?”
“Is that the ring I gave you all those years ago?”
Glancing up at the ring hanging from the necklace, Eric face burned. He should’ve taken it down before she noticed. Sitting up in his seat, he pinched the ring. “Yup.”
“You still have it? After all these years?”
He unhooked it from the mirror and handed it over the seat, turning in his seat to watch her reaction. “Of course I kept it.”
Holding the chain, she let the ring dangle from the end and touched it with the other index finger. “My mother was furious that I took such a precious family heirloom.” The ring spun the moonlight. “She thought I’d lost it. I couldn’t confess I’d given it to you for fear of her telling me to ask for it back. I hoped you’d want to be my sweetheart if I’d given you something so valuable. Such was the logic of a child. I had such a crush on you.”
He flushed, hope filling him. But was over ten years ago. “Do you want it back now?”
“Oh, no.” She laughed, sounding like bells chiming. “I’ve already received the punishment for giving it to you. Don’t let it be a waste.” Coiling the ring and chain into her hand, she handed him back the jewelry. “Besides, my mother probably forgot all about it. She has so many of them.”
He took the ring, now warmed by her touch. “I’ll keep it always. As a token of your childhood admiration.” Winking, he slipped the chain around his neck, the metal now cold on his skin.
“I shouldn’t have told you I had a crush on you.”
“I’m glad you did.” Hearing that she liked him all those years ago stoked a hope he’d never felt before. His gaze met hers in intense longing. His desire for her hung between them in the air. Only the seats separated them. What if he offered to sit back there? Facing forward again, he hugged himself, slapping his upper arms to distract his thoughts. He mustn’t let his imagination run away.
“Are you cold?”
He shrugged. “I’m okay. After the bear trashed the other quilts, we only have the one.”
“You can have it.”
Her generosity touched him. “No. I’m fine. Keep it,” he said over his shoulder.
“We could share.”
His heart nearly stopped. He froze. Was she serious? What did she mean? What did sharing entail? It wasn’t like he could pull the blanket over the passenger seat. It wouldn’t stretch that far and…
“If you come back here.”
That was all the encouragement he needed. His heart soared. Within a second, he flew over the center console to the back, heart pounding. He stared at her lying with her back against the door, her legs stretched across the bench seating.
She opened the covers.
Heat poured from her blanket. His own temperature rose. “How ’bout I sit behind you, and you can lean against me?”
“Against the door?” She sat forward. “It’s not very comfortable.”
“I’ll make the sacrifice.” She was right. The door dug into his back. Instead, he maneuvered behind her, sitting with his legs facing frontish, twisting his body. Gulping, he patted the side of his chest. He would be comfortable as long as she was near.
She leaned against him.
Warmth engulfed him at her touch. He trembled, not from the cold, but from her closeness. He took measured breaths to slow his racing heart. Feeling her so close was magical. Did he dare put his arm around her?
Gently, he laid his arm on top of her shoulder, over the blanket.
Was that too much?
She reached over the blanket with her other arm and held it there. “I think the bear was more afraid of you than you were of it.” Laughter spilled from her lips. “You were ferocious.”
Electricity surged through him. He craved the feeling of closeness. Her citrus-scented shampoo emanating from her hair a few inches from his nose invigorated him. “It was nothing.”
“Your legs must be cold. Why don’t you put your legs in here? You can lean all the way against the window, and I can lean up against you.” She sat up and opened the covers for him.
Removing his shoes, he adjusted, sliding his foot into the warmth between her and the seat back. Thank goodness he wore clean socks! He kept one leg out, hugging her other side.
She leaned back onto his chest, pulling the blanket over his outside leg. The door still dug into his back, but he would suffer any amount of pain complaint-free with Charlotte there near him. “There, now that’s cozy.”
He wrapped his arms around her in front of him, relishing the closeness and comfort.
The extended cab on his truck was the best investment he’d ever made!
The warmth under the blanket burned like a brick oven. Now the question was, would he overheat? Desire tugged at him. Calm down, he told himself. Preston would likely kill him if he hurt his sister. What would she want to do with a country hick, anyway? And she was a goddess. If he could only stay here, with Charlotte nestled into his chest, forever.
Charlotte yearned for his closeness and reveled in his warmth, emanating from his solid chest behind her. Yes, so much better than sitting alone in her own blanket. So much warmer. She felt his breath on her hair and neck behind her.
He stroked her arm buried in the covers. “You warm?”
Fire blazed in her. “Mmm-hmmm.” But instead of being sleepy, all her senses were heightened. Every touch, every movement of his body beneath her sent waves of desire through her. He bent and rubbed his chin against her cheek, the bristles from his close-shaven beard tickled her skin.
Goosebumps ran through her.
“You’re still shivering.”
That was not from the cold!
Gah, she wanted him to flip her around and kiss her. Her heart thundered in her chest. What if she tilted up her head just a little bit? Then she could see his expression.
Leaning to the side, she raised her lips near his neck and chin. The scent of his skin intoxicated her. “Oh, I’m not cold.”
In the dim light, his gaze skittered over her lips. She could see every lash fringing his eye. His eyebrows held a nice curve in his forehead. His lips beckoned hers. She closed her eyes, slowing her heart rate.
She waited, holding her breath. Would he do it?
Finally, he dipped his chin.
A single brush feathered over her lips.
She caught her breath. Energy shot through her, radiating outwards. What a tease! Just kiss her!
He brushed her lips again.
She trembled all over. He held her steady then crashed upon her lips with gentle passion.
She deepened the kiss, reaching up, holding onto his shoulder. His hand drove into her side, driving her into him.
Desire clung to her. Her skin reacted to each touch.
The scent of his breath intoxicated her, drew her in. He played with the hem of her shirt, smoothing his hands over her waistband.
She had no idea how long she stayed like that, crushed into his chest, but her neck started to hurt. And her lips grew swollen.
The blanket now smothered her with heat.
He broke from her, leaning his head back against the window. “Kissing you was more amazing than I ever imagined.”
He’d imagined kissing her? His chest rose in harried breaths beneath her.
“Ever since you drove up to my truck, I’ve wanted to kiss away those tears. Why were you crying? That first time we met?”
He held her close, his chest rising underneath her. She relaxed into him. He ran a thumb across her forearm.
“Do you know how it feels when someone hurts you so badly and you feel the pain can never go away?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“I dated a guy who I thought was going in the same direction I was going. He was a lawyer and a mentor at my undergrad internship. We dated for about a year, and I thought we were going to take it to the next level. I got accepted into law school, but he…” She shook her head, clearing the pain from her heart. How could she feel so much pain when she felt so much happiness? “Westley decided he wanted other things and”— she gulped—“a different lifestyle.”
“The man is a fool.” He kissed the back of her head and squeezed her. “What do you mean, other things? If you want to talk about it?”
“He wanted cupcakes without buying the cupcake truck. And when I said I wanted to wait, he broke up with me. It stung, but I held onto the hope that we could still be friends, that we could still be more if I continued to love him. That all changed when I saw him at the Toronto Opera House with another woman, a woman who barely wore any clothes, and he had his hands all over her; it broke me. I came here. To get away.”
“I’m so sorry.” He stroked her arm again.
She huffed. “I felt so naive. You see, he was my first serious boyfriend. We moved so much as a family. I tend to hold onto people and not want to let them go.” Westley had promised her so many things—a future she so clearly imagined—international law, helping children find families overseas, living a meaningful life. He could’ve been her partner in this desire.
“And have you let him go?”
Searching her heart, she came up empty. “I think so.” She wasn’t sure. She’d given so much to him—her loyalty, her love, her heart. “It takes time.”
“Here’s some ‘Laurie wisdom.’ My mother used to tell me that sometimes you have to clear out the weeds before you can plant new seeds.”
“Is this a farming analogy?” She cast him an arched brow in accusation.
“Yup.”
“What does it mean?”
He smiled, flashing beautiful teeth. “You’re a smart girl. You can figure it out.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re comparing Westley to a weed, aren’t you.”
He held up his hands. “I didn’t label him at all.”
“But you think I need to get rid of things—or people—hindering my progression?”
“Your job is to figure out if what you’re cultivating is what you want.” He brushed a hand down her arm. “My job is to make you forget him.”
She smiled and reached up and kissed him. “What about you? Any nasty ex-girlfriends I should know about?”
“Not here. Oh sure, I dated in high school. Had a few casual girlfriends in college before I came home to help with the farm—nothing serious.”
“How come you never got serious?” She twisted to face him.
He stared upwards.
The stars shone between clouds.
Then he bowed his head to his chest to be at her face level. “Guess I was just waiting for the perfect girl.” He kissed her on her cheek.
“Why did you have to come home?”
He shook his head. “Oh, now that’s a story, indeed.”
She sat up, spilling the covers back from her. Cool air immediately splashed against her. “Come on, I told you mine. Let’s hear it.”
He leaned his head against the car window with a thunk. Finally, he shifted, lifting his head, his eyes serious and intense. “All right. I’ll tell you. But before I do, you must promise me not to think less of me.”
“I promise.” Then she waited for him to begin.