Page 32 of Hotshot Mogul

‘Last human?’

“We were…”

“Going to be mates.”

Then she smiled and her sadness appeared to leave. A breeze stirred, lifting strands of her wavy blonde hair. I didn’t care what the hell we were talking about.

I pulled her softness into my arms like she was mine. She sighed and pressed her cheek into my neck. “Come home with me, Anneliese, please.”

I pulled back a bit. I had to see her face. “You hate this place,” she said. “Do you want to know why?”

She was right. I wanted to change this space, alter it so it was unrecognizable. Pulverize the damn tree. I nodded.

Her eyes filled with tears. “I saw you die.” She pointed to a spot near the pines, where the pinecone fell. “There. While I watched from behind this tree that became my home.”

A wave of dizziness washed through me. Her arms tightened. It grounded me. The scene flickered like a silent movie. I wanted to get her into the safety of my people. But a rival band killed me before I could do that. I put her in terrible danger with her people. She turned her back on her legal husband, a cruel tyrant, to be with me. Yet, it was not to be.

A gut-wrenching cry filled my ears—my own? Anneliese rocked me. My face was pressed to her shoulder. I had to process it somehow. I wanted to be in the here-and-now with Anneliese, and be the man she needed.

The past, if that’s what it was, couldn’t change. I lifted my head and pulled back, determined to be back in charge. Her eyes were red and her cheeks were wet. “You said this tree was your home.”

“This is where…how do you say it? Things get weird.”

The fragile hold I had, the here-and-now, melted away. “This is where it gets weird?”

She squared her shoulders and said words I didn’t understand. Shit. We stood and I touched the oak for the first time. I’d avoided touching it as much as I could when I hung the rezoning sign. It looked obscene.

Anneliese pressed her back against the tree. Then she was gone. She had vanished. Her dress puddled on the ground. “Nooo.” Wings flapped. Birds squawked.

I sank to my knees and pressed my forehead against the bark. What had I done? “Anneliese, come back. Please.”

Then she was there, in my arms—naked. She lifted her face. I covered it with kisses, then pressed my lips to hers. The kiss started slow but became desperate and demanding. She demanded. I took. She gave and I claimed her, as she claimed me—like calling to like. She tasted like heaven and home.

I angled my head to deepen our connection in a weak imitation of how I wanted, needed, to be inside her, to fill her.

“Anneliese?” Callie called. I broke away, grabbed her dress and shielded her while she pulled it on. “Bruce?” Callie yelled.

“Here,” I said. Bright spots of color dotted Anneliese’s cheeks. Her lips were swollen from our kiss. And her erect nipples pressed against her blouse. She put her hand on the tree trunk in a loving caress as Callie came toward us.

“I’m going to stay here for tonight,” Anneliese said.

“So, you’re going back, then.” Callie said. It wasn’t a question.

Wait, what? Was she going back into this fucking tree? Is that what she meant? My head throbbed. This, all of this, was surreal—something in a movie I would stop watching because it was too far out there.

But I couldn’t. This was where I had to convince her not to leave me. “I’m staying here with her,” I said.

“You’ll need camping gear,” Rufus said.

Callie hugged Anneliese. “You have a place to stay, with me, if you change your mind.” Callie shot me a WTF look.

I pulled out my Jeep keys and gave them to Rufus. “Her camping stuff is in the back of my Jeep. I never unloaded it. Could you bring it?”

“Sure. Then we’d better get going so we can be back before dark,” Callie said.

It was the longest day of the year. We had a good hour left of daylight, maybe more.

As they drove away to retrieve our things, Anneliese stared up at the branches and climbed up as if she had done it a thousand times. I followed her in my custom-made suit and thousand-dollar shoes. She stopped to sit on a branch about halfway up.

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