Page 7 of Scent of Home

I shift in the seat, trying to push the uncomfortable memories aside. Still they persist, dragging me back.

When my fathers died, my mother, Cara, became obsessed with making me a star. She flew me all over the country to auditions, schools, and shows. My mother destroyed any feelings of love and family and when I joined Derision as my act of rebellion; she cut me off. That was six years ago now. She hasn’t spoken a single word to me.

For a moment, I think about calling mum, she’d answer. She’d tell me she told me so. She’d say that Cara Raines pulled herself out of the gutter and became a star, and my ungrateful ass can sort my problems out myself.

The feeling of having walls close in without the actual walls is startling. The scent of mocha twists around me, calming me, a balm to my soul. But I can’t completely erase that wild panic.

I shift my weight again and turn my head to stare at the woman beside me. She is nothing like anyone I’ve ever seen. Not only is she built with soft curves that I itch to trace, but she’s got intelligence in her eyes, wit in her voice, and power oozing out of every pore. She’s not like the skinny girls that throw themselves at me.

An alpha with curves, a handful, a thick woman that is all woman and is confident of her sexuality and who she actually is. She’s fresh air.

My mouth waters, and I lean forward, breathing in her scent, my lip just slightly touching hers. I pull back, but I feel drunk. I feel this incessant need to straddle her and kiss her until she takes me.

I reach up and touch her dark brown hair. In the light before it had faded, I’d noticed that the colour changes to light brown when it gets to the tips. It’s layered in a fascinating fall that draws my eye. Her lips are plump and stained a red colour that reminds me of cherries. But it’s her eyes that captured me.

Her eyes are brown, an intense and cold colour that seemed to rip straight into me and pull out my secrets. I want to see her eyes again, make sure I didn’t imagine their power, but the sun is rising, and the people behind us are awakening.

The bus pulls over in a small town. It’s barely dawn, and no one’s awake yet. Everyone but us gets off the bus in a yawning shuffle. I almost wake her to find out if she wants to stretch her legs.

But she was so tired. I just want to let her sleep.

What is this? I don’t care about people. Not strangers, anyway. That’s a dangerous pastime for a man like me. Trust is a silent killer. It’s a trap.

She fed me.

Her head shifts to fall on my shoulder, and I close my eyes to fend off the urge to reach out and touch her. As it is, when her hand clutches mine, I simply allow her to hold it. No part of me can push her away.

The bus driver gets on the bus, looks at us, and smiles slightly. I nod in his direction. He tips his hat to me and sits down. The doors close a moment later, and we’re off, rolling along the road to this Twin Rivers mystery and its population 320.

I close my eyes.

I wake up witha start, my heart pounding. Almost immediately, I’m aware that the bus has stopped moving. For a second, I smell smoke and the bright light looks like fire. And then I remember where I am. It’s like a double memory superimposed over the other. Like I’m in two places at once. My stomach jolts, and I put a hand to it, to hopefully curb the urge to vomit.

Erin slowly stretches, yawning and making tired little sounds that are adorable. They tear me from my mind and mesmerize me.

Get a grip, Locke.

I peek out through the window and feel my jaw drop. We’re in a town. A quaint little town with lots of people wandering around. The roads are cobbled, and there appears to be some sort of celebration going on. Am I dreaming? I mean, there’s no way our conversation came true.

Hero gets on the bus. “Oh, you’re awake!”

“What is this place?” I ask dully.

“It’s Twin Rivers.” Hero shakes his head and gestures to the door. “Come have a look. I need to get this bus off the street.”

I grab my bag and guitar and wait for Erin. She’s alert and watchful, taking in all the people walking along the sidewalk. It’s smaller than I would have expected. If there was ever a postcard for adorable small towns, the picture should be this town.

“Is something going on?” Erin asks, her smokey voice sends a line of arousal straight to my cock. Oh, yeah, now I’m awake.

I mentally berate myself and shuffle towards the exit.

“Oh, yeah, it’s the River Festival,” Hero says happily and slaps his thigh hard enough that I wince. He lets out a weird call, which is thrown back by strangers around the bus.

What the fuck?

“River Festival?” Erin asks while I’m still glaring out of the windows.

“Yeah, a week-long festival where we, the folks of Twin Rivers and surrounding counties, come and celebrate the spring melts. There are games, stalls, markets, music, laughter, food, competitions, it’s fantastic. It’s a great time to be coming to Twin Rivers. You two got really lucky.”

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