Page 41 of Recurve Ridge

ROBE

Black coffee scentedthe cabin’s interior. Mari sat alone at the small table while Alan leaned against the bar, reading on his tablet. In light of my banter with Blackthorne, and how my bartender had screwed our guest, waking beneath a beautiful woman yet again had been a serious slip of judgment the night before.

That Mari had turned up so conveniently still didn’t sit well, but the pull to take action propelled me toward her. Her taste lingered on my lips despite me trying to forget the way she watched me get myself off to her moans. A growl filled my throat. I clamped my mouth shut to prevent its escape.

I allowed her to stay in my home, in the safe haven of the men who trusted me with both their lives and their freedom, and handed that trust over to a woman who threatened my entire household and the tentative peace I worked so hard to retain.

That peace had become a burden I didn’t want to shoulder for the short time Mari Merripen existed in our lives. Needing to know one way or the other, I broke the perfect silence inside the cabin, striding past Alan, who looked up, his brow dipped in a frown. The kid was too smart.

Passing him without a greeting, I headed straight for Mari. Dark hair curled around her face as she stared off, lost in her head. That irritated me even more. I wanted into this girl’s life, but she evaded me on too many fronts.

I rapped the tabletop with knuckles dry and splitting. Maybe Elena was right, and I needed to use some of those damned beauty products she kept sending me. At least with Mari in the house, someone benefited from my sister’s bundled care packages chosen with a sort of desperate hope. I’d stored them for so long, half were probably out of date by now.

I returned to the reason I’d headed back to the cabin in the first place rather than work my woes out on a poor tree that didn’t deserve my pent-up rage today. My moods were getting worse with every day she stayed, and my forest sessions grew longer without the payoff of the high from the energy expenditure woodcutting and shooting once provided.

Miller called it therapy. I called it apathetic bullshit.

“Finish up,” I said, offering a cursory glance at the waffle that dangled from her fork. “You’ve got somewhere to be.”

“I do?” Mari perked up and shrank back in the same moment as her unfocused gaze narrowed on my face. “Where?”

“Robe,” Alan murmured, giving his warning to my back.

I shook my head once, a tiny gesture, but I knew he wouldn’t miss it. “Come on. I want to show you something.”

“What?” Mari didn’t budge from her seat.

My lips twitched as she held firm in her resolve. Did I trust her for turning up when she did, where she did? Not on my life or anyone else’s in the cabin. Miller’s words echoed in my head.Like she came out of nowhere.If law enforcement turned up at my door, her presence inside my home would be incriminating to say the least. But did that same victim deserve to have to fight the ghost of her attacker, or attackers, when her fears could seek her in the depths of her mind every night? Also no.

The crisp mountain air had cleared my head long enough to let me see a path into one potential future, and I’d be remiss if I didn’t give her the best chance of survival possible. If that came back to bite me in the ass, at least the betrayal would be a sexy one.

I leaned down, bracing an arm on either side of her. “Do you want to know how to kick the ass of every nightmare you face from here on out?”

Her gaze darted from my eyes to my mouth and back again, but she didn’t say a word. She rose half an inch from the chair, giving me all the permission I needed.

“Be gentle,” Alan chided, whipping a tea towel against my bicep as I prodded Mari to precede me from the cabin.

“Like hell,” I muttered loud enough for her to hear, baring my teeth at both of them when she spun on her heel.

Mari mumbled something that sounded like “Asshat” as she trotted barefoot down the cabin steps and landed in a solid two-footed jump onto the forest floor.

My grin widened. I tossed the smallest spare boots we had in her direction—a scuffed pair of Will’s from when he first arrived—from the collection by the front door. She jerked a little as they hit the ground beside her but otherwise stayed still as she raised a gaze full of curiosity to me.

Her fear of me seemed to diminish as she tugged the boots on, and she hadn’t been stiff or trembling when she drifted off to sleep the night before, her body softening in my arms. Damn, but she felt good there. Like her place was at my side, sleeping with me every night. It just seemed natural. I shook my head, banishing the phantom of her soft curves pressed into my scarred body, refocusing on our task. Mari waited outside the house, nary a shiver in sight.

Step one complete.

I checked her again, but she’d already planted her fine ass on the leaf mulch and looked up at me expectantly. I winced. Perhaps I should have provided socks, too, but this ad hoc session came with no plan in mind.

The next would be more proactive, if I played this right.

“Where are we going?” Mari finished lacing up her borrowed shoes, tying the laces twice around slim ankles to make up for the excess length. She tucked the ends into the tops, her eyes too wide by the slightest fraction, lips parted.

I pressed the tip of my tongue to the roof of my dry mouth to prevent myself from telling her not to worry. She wouldn’t want to hear it, and it didn’t matter what I said. The oversized fit of the footwear looked more than slightly ridiculous, but as no one else out here would see her, I doubted it mattered.

Making a mental note to ask Alan to get her a few pairs of wearable shoes the next time he went into town, I caught her elbow and steered her to the bottom of the house yard.

A small track opened out from there, one I worked my way along, creating a defensive system around the house. The lower area led to a rapidly flowing albeit small spring that gurgled merrily despite the season. Its tenacious year-round refusal to freeze amused me, and it had fast become one of my favorite spots.

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