Page 27 of Protecting Her Secrets

I pour us both orange juice—since I’m not drinking alone—and she dumps out all the pieces. Then, for the next three hours, we puzzle. All the heavy talk from earlier has been pushed aside as we reminisce and fill in gaps from the time we lost. There’s even comfortable silence at times when we’re content to work on this stupid picture of a cat sitting by a window, painting the scenery.

“You don’t strike me as a guy who buys puzzles,” Skylar says. We’ve moved on from orange juice to sodas—Diet Coke for her and regular Coke for me—and I made simple turkey sandwiches for lunch. She scarfs it down and it makes me grin, remembering my girl always did have a big appetite.

My girl? Fuck. My thoughts have gone rogue. However, it’s strange how we’re instantly comfortable with each other, as if no time has passed at all. It makes it hard for me to remember this is temporary, that she still isn’t going to choose me. But being with her like this makes it easy to get lost in the moment.

“I’m not. Honestly, I forgot it was here until I was trying to think of what we could do today.”

“So where’d it come from?”

“Wilder talked me into attending the Christmas party the town puts on down at the community center. He had to go, being the sheriff and all, but it turned out to be fun. The little kids were dressed in frilly dresses and little suits, and one of the Geezers, Mike, dressed like Santa Claus, and people sang carols.”

“Geezers?” She stretches, arching her back and thrusting her chest out. If it’s possible, I’m even more attracted to her now. It’s not just the way her body has changed; it’s the confident way she expresses her opinions, the maturity in her worldviews, that captures my attention.

As each moment passes, I see more of her old self, the firecracker, emerge. The hesitant glint in her eye is gone, as if she truly believes she’s safe here now, and it fills me with pride that I can give her this moment when she can just be. But as she readjusts the shirt I gave her to wear and I spot her hard, braless nipples poking through the fabric, I knock myself down a peg because she’s clearly not safe from my dirty thoughts.

“Walker?” She snickers, knowing she caught me creeping.

I rub the back of my neck, averting my gaze. “Since it’s such a small town, all the old people have banded together and call themselves the Geezers. They are Culver’s Springs’ unofficial social committee, watchdogs, grandparents, and the biggest gossips you’ll ever meet. All of us in the younger generations keep an eye on them, even though they’re annoying as fuck and stick their noses where they don’t belong.”

She smiles. “That’s so wholesome.”

“You won’t think that when you meet them.” I pause, wishing that could be true. “I guess you probably won’t meet them, though, huh?”

“Maybe I’ll come back one of these days for a visit.”

I gentle my tone for what I’m about to say as much as possible, not wanting to offend her but desperately needing her to listen. “Please don’t.”

“I’m sorry?”

Putting down the puzzle piece, I heft out a breath and sink from my knees to my ass. “When I saw you in that grocery store, the only thought I had was that I didn’t want you here. I don’t hate you and have been curious about how you’re doing, but I’ve never been more lost than I was when you left me. You know I was already broken after my mom basically disappeared from my life, but then you did the same thing, and I spent a lot of years after feeling like I had no self-worth. Truly believing there was something fundamentally wrong with me that everyone in my life left. I thought I was unlovable.”

“Walker, that’s not?—”

“After years of trying to figure out what I did to make you leave without even a conversation and coming up short, I realized it had nothing to do with me. But back then, there were a lot of nights I sat in front of a bottle of pills while I drank myself stupid, debating if I wanted to stick around.” I meet her eyes, being more honest with her than I’ve ever been. “I had no one and nothing, Sky. And I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I just want you to understand the power you had—have—over me. Now I’m gonna go through it all over again because I know once that snow melts, you’ll be gone. At least this time I have friends, I have my dog, and I have this house and my business.” I run a hand through my hair. “But even still, it’s gonna hurt, and I just don’t think I can do it a third or fourth time or whenever you decide to blow through town again.”

She swipes a tear off her cheek. “I get it. I know I keep apologizing, but I really am sorry.”

“I know you are, and I don’t want to hurt your feelings here, but your apologies don’t mean shit. They don’t erase what you put me through, and they don’t make me feel any better.” I hold up a hand when she opens her mouth to talk. “But you’re here now, so despite my better judgment, all I want is to enjoy thetime we have. I just need you to promise that this time, when you walk out of my life, you don’t ever come back.”

She nods, dragging her upper lip through her teeth before whispering, “Okay.”

Chapter Ten

Skylar

The mood is pretty much ruinedafter that, so we clean up and make some real food. There’s not much else to do but eat when you’re trapped in the house. He produces two steaks from the fridge before opening a closet, and—hand-to-God—this man climbs down a ladder to a real-life root cellar. He hands me a couple potatoes and climbs back up like it’s normal. I feel like I’ve gone back in time.

“You don’t need to say it. It’s weird, I know, but I try to be as self-sustainable as possible. So, I grow root vegetables and store them down there for the winter.”

“You also grow your own food?” I scoff, but it’s overly dramatic so he knows I’m kidding. “You own chickens, you named your bread, you live on a mountain, you use solar power, and now you’re saying you’re a farmer?”

He shrugs and rests his butt on the edge of the counter, bracing his hands on either side. “It’s a simple life, but I love it.”

“I can tell. You seem settled. Happy.” I reach out to give his hand a squeeze, and the simple touch sends a bolt of electricitythrough me. Not expecting it, I jerk away. He must have felt it too, because his pained gaze locks on where I touched him, as if I left behind a mark.

Chemistry was never our problem. Actually, we never had any problems, which made it all the more difficult to walk away. We were perfect for each other and the more time I spend locked in this house with him, the more I realize that hasn’t changed. Shouldn’t there be a way for us to be together if it feels this right? Maybe there is and I just haven’t thought of it yet.

Or maybe I’m delusional.

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