Page 16 of Harvest Brew With the Mountain Man
My gaze is trained on her shoulder. I take breaths, counting to ten, then give her my eyes.
“I’m okay,” she says quietly. “I’m right here. Safe. With you.”
My jaw clenches, imagining what Brian could look like, and in my mind, I’m punching him, over and over, not stopping. I need to steer away from that image. I’m usually better at controlling this, but right now, I’m consumed with a blinding rage just thinking about this fucker cornering her, harassing her.
She stretches up on her toes and takes my face in her hands. “Look at me. Really look at me, West.”
I count the flecks of honey in her hazel eyes and count from ten again.
Four.
Her black lashes give her eyes a cat shape.
Three.
Her pert nose, cute on her heart-shaped face.
Two.
Her full lips that I’m dying to taste.
One.
Her hair, long, silk waves. I reach out and rub strands between my fingers.
She whispers, “Welcome back.”
My eyes bounce back to hers. I blink away the anger. “Sorry,” I croak, then clear my throat.
She studies me. Too closely.
“Where did you just go?” she asks, still holding my face. I attempt to pull away, but she holds on more tightly. “Uh uh. Stay right here.”
I inhale deeply, letting it go slowly through my mouth. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine.” At her skeptical look, I close my eyes. “I’m sorry you saw that.”
Her thumb runs softly over my face. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
I humorlessly laugh. “Trust me, I do.” I gently take her hands and have her let go so I can walk over to the terrace doors.
I open the glass doors, letting the crisp October cold shake me back to myself. I step out onto the deck, and with my hands in my pockets, I focus on the mountains. Her presence is like a weight I physically feel near without touch. Soothing. You want to lean in until you make contact. She stands in solidarity beside me, breathing with me. Quiet. Waiting.
“When they died, my parents…that year was hard,” I begin to tell her something only her brother truly knows. My brother’s probably suspected, but were dealing with their own darkness and grief at the time.
“Their death didn’t add up. Something felt…off about it. We had pieces to a large jigsaw puzzle, but none of the pieces we had were ones that connected. The frustration of knowing something happened but having no proof or definitive answers? That fucked with all of us. In different ways.”
“How did it fuck with you?” she asks boldly, knowing where I’m trying to get at.
I see the mountain view, and yet I don’t. I’m remembering nights living off whiskey in a shack by Johnson Creek. I went weeks with my brothers not knowing where I was.
“Styx and I went to a bar outside of Eden one weekend. I’d been in a dark place for months. He hoped, without the pressure of people who’d know me, I’d be able to allow myself to just be whatever I needed to be and feel. I didn’t have to be West, the fun-loving, good guy.” I shake my head.
Her hand lands at the base of my back. The heat of her skin seeps into my sweater. It keeps me here instead of in that memory.
“Some dick was harassing a young girl. Hell, she couldn’t have even been twenty-one yet. He was older than me, feelingher up behind the pool table, blocking her escape. I don’t know,” I say softly, shame coating my skin like a toxic film.
“I snapped. I demanded that he back off her. Of course, he didn’t listen. His boys tried to step in, but my eyes were focused on him. He was my target. He was my excuse to release all the rage pent up in me for almost a year.”
Camille leans her side into mine. My eyes close, and I let out the heaviness in my chest.
