Page 86 of Far From Sherwood Forest
I’d much rather keep Robin all to myself.
He says there are a few things he wants to do in town, so we leave the cabin in the afternoon. While we’re out, I ask if he wants to pick up some makeup to cover the mark I left on his neck—mostly because I can hardly look at it without wanting to give him another, maybe rip off his clothes and sink into his ass while I’m at it. When he says he doesn’t want to hide it, I have to turn away so he doesn’t see the smile threatening to tip the corners of my mouth.
We go to the grocery store so Robin can get some beer that he says tastes the most similar to what they all used to drink back in Sherwood Forest. It’s probably still off by a longshot, but he claims it’s the sweetest he’s found. We also go inside a thrift shop, and Robin buys an old guitar. I ask him what the hell that’s about, but all he says is that I’ll find out later.
After stopping at a small restaurant for a bite to eat, I drive us out to the ranch. On our way, a realization strikes me, and my brow furrows so deep it’s almost painful.
“Are you okay?” Robin asks.
“Yeah,” I mutter while staring out of the windshield. “I just…I realized we just went on a fuckingdate.”
The laughter that bursts out of him is contagious, making me laugh too.
“Who would’ve thought,” he says. “Robin Hood and the Sheriff of Nottingham go on a date. Talk about an unlikely pair. For what it’s worth, I had fun, Sheriff.”
I glance over, mirroring his smile with one of my own. “So did I, little thief.”
When we get to the ranch, I park in front of the bunkhouse and spot the Merry Men already gathered outside as John lights a fire in the small pit on the side of the building. Robin and Iboth get out as heads turn our way. We meet at the front of the truck, and I notice he seems nervous, chewing on his bottom lip as his eyes dart between me and his friends.
“I want to tell them,” he blurts like he can’t get the words out quickly enough, but he keeps his voice low. “About us, I mean. John already knows, but I want to tell the others. If that’s okay with you, of course. I just don’t want to have to hide. But if you don’t want—”
Pulling him to me with a hand on the back of his neck, I catch his mouth with mine, his rambling dying on my lips.
Ireallylove shutting him up.
My tongue briefly comes out to lick across his lips before I pull back. His eyes are still closed as his mouth chases mine, his body leaning forward until I place my hand on his chest to stop him.
“Now you don’t have to say a thing.”
His eyes open, bright with surprise like he’s only now aware of what I did. He grimaces as his gaze flicks over to the men standing around the fire. John is grinning while the others stand there stunned, unmoving and silent, not even blinking.
I couldn’t give a shit what they all think of me and Robin being together. At least I saved him from the awkwardness of figuring out how to tell them.
“We brought beer,” I call out, understanding now that it was Robin’s idea of a peace offering in case theydohave a problem with it.
Walking to the back of the truck, I grab the case of beer from the bed while Robin retrieves the guitar from the backseat. He’s quiet as we head over toward the growing fire, his shoulders hunched with tension.
I swear if a single one of them gives Robin a hard time, I’ll break their fucking nose.
Placing the beer on the ground, my eyes track Robin as heweaves a path through the chairs and other men to stop in front of—Fuck. Alan, I think? Robin gave me a crash course on them all earlier today, and I’ve already forgotten.
Robin makes eye contact with the man with the reddish hue to his hair and lifts the instrument between them. Another peace offering. He holds his breath, the flames in the pit casting shadows over the deep lines in his face.
Alan doesn’t even acknowledge it, his wide eyes fixed on Robin and his jaw slack.
I’m about ready to tell him to get his head out of his ass when he finally clears his throat and cracks a smile.
“We really are in a whole different world, aren’t we?”
When Alan and the others start to laugh, I’m not sure if they’re laughingwithRobin orathim, and my hands ball into fists as I try to decide whose legs I’m breaking first.
Then the tension seems to bleed out of Robin, and he smiles too as Alan takes the guitar from him.
“And here I thought I’d sooner see dragons dance,” Will says, looking much too happy for a man I still haven’t decided if I want to kill or not.
Theonlyreason I haven’t is because of Robin.
“Or a ghost ride in on a headless horse,” the man I’m pretty sure they all call Tuck adds.
