Page 56 of Weatherman

I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t! I couldn’t!I couldn’t!

Could I?

“It’s okay to let your heart beat again.”

“I’m not ready to sleep with you.”

“Sex is not a requirement for dating. I didn’t go to bed with every woman I’ve gone out with. We’ll get to that when we’re both ready.”

I went silent again, torn between worlds.

“It’s okay to let your heart beat again.”

“Let your heart beat again.”

“Let your heart beat.”

“Okay. Let’s try.”

He moved to dip his head. Easy, gently, naturally, his lips conformed to mine. I’d been kissed before as a stamp of ownership. Bryce’s kiss wasn’t that. It was a reverent confirmation that we were in this together and a promise that we would give it a serious go. My nerves continued to jangle warnings, but we stepped up to that precipice together, and I felt the whoosh as we leaped over the edge.

By the way his body jolted, he felt it too.

The kiss ended, and neither of us spoke for a few moments. The night sky was the only witness to this world-shaking event.

I broke the church-like silence. “We have to get back to Pearl and your mom.”

The corner of his mouth tipped up, and he stroked his thumb over my bottom lip. “We. I like that. Let’s go.”

CHAPTER 25

Clem sat perchedbehind the blind, sighted down the barrel of the heavy rifle, and slipped his finger over the trigger. The bear was a big male, moving sluggishly and thick with fat for a long winter that didn’t seem to be coming anytime soon. Clem breathed out and began to squeeze.

The gunned roar of a four-wheeler burst in the air as Walt crashed roughly through the brush. The bear spooked and ran.

Clem threw down the rifle and cursed long and loud as it bounced out of the perch and to the ground. “Goddamnit, you fucking shit for brains! I had him!”

A wild-eyed Walt ignored his cousin. “Rangers! There’s rangers on the ridge!”

Shit. Clem hated to admit it, but it was a good thing after all that Walt interrupted that perfect shot. The .003 Win Mag was a loud gun, and no doubt the sound of it would bring those damn cops running. “How close are they?”

“’Bout a half mile on the other side of the creek.”

Fuck.

“They done found the bait barrels we put out over yonder. What do we do?”

Clem climbed down the short distance and picked up the rifle. The barrels were plain ones with no distinctive logos to tell where they came from, but that asshole Mute might recognize them if given a chance. Clem was sure the biker had seen the ones he stored at the gas station shed. They’d been moved to the cabin, but the damage was already done. So far, Brick hadn’t made any moves, which made Clem nervous.

He growled at his cousin. “What direction they headed in?”

“East.”

Clem nodded in partial relief. “Away from the cabin, then.” He shouldered the gun. “Get them other barrels over there emptied and scatter the food. We’ll load ’em on the four-wheeler and run it low until we get farther away. The sound won’t carry over the water noise.”

“Things is gettin’ real tight, Clem. Maybe we need to do some rethinking.”

“Ain’t your job to think. You just get them barrels taken care of.”

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