Page 59 of Welcome to Blackbird Hollow
“What?” she growls, leaning against the counter, crossing her arms tight over her chest. It’s then that I realize she’s standing in my kitchen in nothing but a tube top and a pair of black cotton panties, and that the whiskey’s catching up to me. My cock has a mind of its own and jumps at the thought of her half-naked and apparently a little pissed at me.
But now’s not the time for thoughts like that. Now’s the time for getting her to see what’s happening here. Alice is all up in her head, her big old brain working overtime, telling her stories that aren’t all the way true.
The kitchen timer goes off. I pull the pizza out of the oven and set it on the stove to cool before turning back to Alice. “You said she looked like your Granny, right?”
Alice nods but doesn’t say anything else.
“Well, that’s good news,” I continue. “If that’s so, then it’s likely you haven’t been talking to the woman you saw in the bar. Bad news is, it seems like they’ve probably read a good amount of your messages with Cookie, if not all.”
I’m scrambling, putting the pieces together as I go, but I’ve gotta get her to see this wasn’t something she did. It was something donetoher. “So the secret part stands. But I don’t think that wasactuallyCookie. Somewhere out there, there’s a little weirdo with a stringboard just like yours, who probably loves you.”
I think I’ve done a pretty good job of summing things up in a convincing way, but Alice just glares at me. “You don’t get it.”
I reach out for her hand. “Maybe not all the way, but I do understand why you feel like shit right now.”
She snatches her hand away from me, shaking her head and gesturing at the fridge. “No,” she breathes. “You grew up with allthis. You have noideawhy this fucks me up.”
I stare at the fridge, almost twenty years of photos covering it—just like there are up at Fallon’s and more at Cade’s. It’s all evidence of the life my siblings and I have had here. School dances. Pumpkin carving. Even a few school plays. Proof that despite how shitty things have been, we’ve been here, while Alice was out there.
I grab Alice’s hand again, gripping harder this time. “Tell me then, sweet girl. Tell me why it fucks you up.”
She shakes her head at me, angry tears falling on her cheeks. “Can’t you even fight with me?” she sobs. “I’m trying to have a fight with you, Wyatt.”
This isn’t drunken crying—she’s not that drunk. It’s something deeper. Some essential wound that Alice needs healed. But I can’t help if I don’t know why it hurts. I pull her closer. “Why?”
Her forehead falls into my chest. “Because it would make it easier if I could hate you right now. If I could convince myself this isn’t where I belong.”
I take a long, deep breath, hearing the depth of her words. My mind wants to overanalyze, but I don’t let it. Instead, I push Alice away from me ’til she’s looking up into my eyes. “I’m not making it easier for you to leave this place, Alice Blythe. You go if you want to. If you don’t like it here. If you don’t like the town, the people, whatever. Go if you want to go.”
Her eyes widen, like she’s a little shocked by my words. I move my hands to her shoulders, the strength of my grip increasing as I bend toward her, my eyes narrowing. “But you’re not leaving here because you baited me into a fight. You leave, you leave because youwantto. Because you don’t want me, or this life. Not because I’m pushing you out of anything. I’m not. I’d pull you all the way in if you’d let me.”
She stands staring at me for half a second, and then she’s in my arms, her bare legs wrapped around my waist, all silk skin and soft curves, her hands in my hair. “I want you, Wyatt. I want you so fucking much.”
“You sure about that?” I ask. “I’m not one to take advantage of your state.”
“Not that drunk anymore,” she whispers, her eyes clear.
“Thank the gods,” I growl, pushing her onto the counter as our mouths crash into each other.
She yanks the tube top off in a move so elegant, it nearly takes my breath away, then pushes my t-shirt off before pulling me back into her arms. When we’re skin to skin, she lets out a gasp, her back arching.
“Tell me more about how you want to pull me in,” she murmurs, bringing my hand between her legs. “Tell me how you want to be inside me.”
I chuckle. “That’s not exactly what I said.”
She looks up at me, those gorgeous eyes of hers heavy-lidded with desire. “But that’s what you want, isn’t it?”
Every bit of me heats at her words, my fingers moving lightly over the tiny bit of remaining fabric between us. “I think you know what I want, sweet girl.”
Alice whimpers as I increase the pressure of my touch.
“I want you in every way possible, for as long as you’ll have me.”
Her lips are plush and a little swollen from kissing me as she moans. “Please,” she pleads. “Please, I need you. Don’t make me wait any longer.”
I slide a finger between the elastic of her panties and where she’s begging me to touch her. The warmth of her core is just millimeters from my fingers, but I don’t give her what she wants.
“I need to know this is what you want, Alice.”
