Chapter 26 Sloane
SLOANE
The mug warms my palms as I curl into the corner of Ellie's worn sofa, watching steam rise from the chamomile tea. The clock on the mantel reads half past eleven, and Dane's been gone for three hours. My stomach hasn't unclenched since he walked out the door.
After what happened yesterday when I went to the Christmas market, I feel like nowhere in this town is safe until we root out Cal Maddox and the men with him and send them packing.
Ellie sits across from me in an oversized chair, her legs tucked beneath her, blonde hair loose around her shoulders.
At home in her baggy sweats and stained T-shirt, she looks less like a restaurant owner and more like a tired, middle-aged mom who needs a nap, but she's just as sweet at home as she is behind the counter taking orders.
"How do you stand it?" I ask her quietly, just to make conversation. "Living this far from everything?"
She takes a slow sip before answering. "I love it. Though I won't pretend it doesn't get lonely. It's worse in winter when it's too cold to go out and the supper crowd shrinks down to only the people who work around the square."
I nod, understanding that isolation in a way I didn't expect to when I first woke up here, groggy and terrified.
Now the thought of leaving makes me feel a little bittersweet.
I could go home to my high-rise apartment and my overstimulated best friend and hit up a club or a Ramen bar at all hours of the night.
Here, things shut down at nine p.m. and it's thirty minutes to the closest gas station.
"Dating pool's pretty much nonexistent," Ellie continues, a wry smile pulling at her mouth. I know she's thinking of Dane, and I’ve seen the twinge of envy when she watches me interact with him. "Which is a shame because there are worse places to build a life with someone."
"No one's caught your eye?" I ask, though I can guess where this is headed.
She laughs softly. "Oh, there's been one, but you know how that goes…" She meets my gaze directly with no malice in her expression. "If he'd ever looked at me the way he looks at you, I'd have been at his door in a heartbeat."
Heat crawls up my neck. I want to deflect, but she keeps talking.
"He's steady," Ellie says. "And he has that whole broody man thing going for him, but deep down, I think he's a teddy bear." She grins. "Plus, have you seen him chop firewood? Because that's—"
"I get it," I interrupt, but I'm smiling and I let a chuckle escape. Then the room falls quiet for a moment before she continues.
"I'm just saying, you could do a lot worse." She sets her mug down on the side table. "And I think you already know that."
How Dane and I went from strangers to hating each other to fucking like rabbits and now to the deep love I feel for him—it's a mystery.
If I'd have met him in the city, I never would've given him a chance.
He's too old for me, the wrong personality type, and his past as a criminal isn't exactly appealing.
But being forced into his home where I had to interact with him on a human level made me grow up and look past the exterior to the real Dane, the one whose heart is just as brittle and breakable as mine.
"Yeah," I say quietly. "I do."
Ellie's smile softens. "Good. He deserves someone who sees past the walls he puts up." She stretches, joints popping, then stands and sighs. "I'm turning in. You staying up for him?"
"I don't think I could sleep if I tried."
She squeezes my shoulder as she passes. "He'll be back soon… Varen'll make sure of it."
The hallway light flicks off, and I hear her bedroom door click shut. I'm alone with my thoughts and the ticking clock. I pick up the book I've been reading lately while I wait for Dane to handle business or in the wee hours of the morning when I can't sleep anymore.
Crime and Punishment is a distraction, but I'm learning from it that sometimes the punishment isn't going to prison or being caught and that the balm to heal a wounded heart might just be someone who can look past the outside, just the way I've done with Dane. It makes me appreciate him more fully.
When the door opens, Dane staggers in and unzips his coat. "How'd it go?" I ask, and he seems tired, barely meets my eyes.
"Good," he says, shedding his coat. "We have a plan." He walks over and sits next to me as I lay the book on the coffee table, then he pulls me close. "Everyone agrees that the most public time for Cal to make his move is the Christmas celebration that starts on the twenty-first."
"Well, we'll be ready then, won't we?" My head rests on his shoulder as I snuggle into him.
Smoke clings to his clothes—the stench of cigar smoke from the bar. His eyes are slightly unfocused, a tell I've learned means he's had a few drinks.
"That's the plan," he sighs, "though we've told women and children to stay home, but we won't refuse any able-bodied person who can hold a weapon."
"I'm going, then," I tell him bluntly because I've already made my decision. I don't want to sit on Ellie's couch listening to gunfire being blasted off around town and not knowing whether he's okay. If they're going to do this, I'm going to be a part of it.
Dane remains quiet for a moment and says nothing, but his arm tightens around me and I see his eyes fixed on the book on the table.
Dane and I aren't all that different from Sonya and Raskolnikov, though I'm not following him to Siberia, but I may just stay in Sutter's Gap if we can make sure it's safe.
"We should sleep," I tell him, and he takes a deep breath, puffing his chest out hard.
"Don't know if my body will cooperate tonight," he says, and I admit, I'm not sure I'm gonna sleep much, either. It's been a long few weeks, and with the end in sight, or hopefully the end, I think I'd rather just stay awake and see it through.
Still, I know if we don’t rest, it means we won't be at the top of our game.
I rise, taking his hand and pulling him to his feet.
Dane comes willingly, following me down the hallway past Ellie's bedroom door which is shut.
We push into the guest room in the dark, as usual, and I hear the thunk of his boots hitting the floor one by one, then the clink of his belt buckle.
"You know," I tell him as I turn down the bed and shuck the sweats I borrowed from Ellie, "Ellie was telling me about the finer points of Sutter's Gap…
" I've made up my mind and I want him to know it.
"How in the winter, we'd have the diner all to ourselves, and how there are no single men to annoy me and ask for my number every week. "
Dane's hands find my hips in the darkness as I bend over the bed, trying to climb in. "Those are finer points?" he asks, pulling me backward against his body.
"Sure, if I were the self-isolating, broody type who hates people…" I pull away, crawling over the mattress and flopping down. He follows me and pulls the covers over us as he wraps his frigid body, cold from walking home, around me. He feels like a corpse.
"And are you that type?" he asks, fingers finding the hem of my T-shirt where he seeks heat from my skin, and I shiver and almost shriek.
"Well, no. But my heart is spoken for, so I don't need to give my number out. And if there's a warm fire at home, I don't need to seek out the crowd at a diner, and if the man I love took me to dinner, we could steal kisses across the table without having people stare…"
I tangle my legs with his and turn in his arms until our bodies are flush from shoulders to knees, and he sinks his teeth into my neck. "Ah… well, if your heart is already taken…"
"Yeah," I sigh, and then I find his lips in the darkness and kiss him softly. "I guess it means I'll have to send every other man packin'."
"Don't tease me, Sloane. My heart can't take it." Dane's hands are still on my hips and I'm certain I feel him swelling against my thigh.
"I'm not teasing, Mr. Barrett. I think Sutter's Gap has found a new citizen."
He stops, lips on my jawline, and pulls back to say, "What?"
"I'm pretty sure I was clear with what I said." I feel him tense as he pulls my hips harder against his.
"You're staying?" he asks almost cautiously.
"Well, if the perks are right. You’ll have to convince me, but I’m leaning in that direction.
" My words are playful, but I've already made up my mind.
As long as Dane is serious about me and wants me here, then I think it's where I want to be.
I've been back and forth too many times to keep agonizing over it. I love him, and this is his home.
"Christ, Sloane," he grumbles, then sinks his teeth into my neck and growls hard. "You're gonna fuck with my head and I'm not gonna be able to let you go."
He rolls us until he's pinning me down and I touch his cheek lightly. "Just show me why I should stay, already."
His mouth finds mine again, and I arch up, chasing the heat of his tongue, but he pulls back just enough to keep me wanting. “Convince you, huh?” His voice is gravel-rough, lips brushing the shell of my ear. “That what you need, city girl?”
I drag my nails down his back, then under the hem of his T-shirt, feeling the flex of muscle. “Start talking, Barrett. Words are free.”
He chuckles and sits up on his knees. The dim glow from the Christmas lights outside dances across his chest as he grips the back of his shirt and peels it off in one motion.
It lands somewhere on the floor and the light catches the ridges of his stomach, the old scar just under his ribs.
I reach for it, thumb tracing the raised line.
“Still think I’m too old for you?” he asks, catching my wrist and pressing my palm flat over his heart.
“Shut up and take the boxers off.”