No Saint (Wild Men 6)

“Don’t apologize to me, ever.” I grip her tighter. “Dammit, girl, if it wasn’t for you, I don’t know what would have happened. I’d have rotted away in prison. And... life makes me sad sometimes. Not you.”

She nods, hugs me back, giving as good as she gets. “You can’t give up. Please, Ross. Promise me.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“If things get to be too much, you call me. You hold me.” Her heart is thumping hard against mine. “Promise that, too?”

“You pulled me back from the brink, more than once, and I...” I swallow hard. “I won’t give up. I swear.”

She wipes at her eyes, and I kiss her tears. “One day, will you tell me what happened to you in prison?”

“Nothing happened.” My reply is automatic, defensive.

“Whenever you’re ready,” she whispers. “I’ll be here.” And she curls against my chest like a cat, her curls tickling my chin.

The girl who saved me in every way. Who says she loves me. Who keeps her promises.

My girl.

“Come here.” I stroke her curls from her forehead. “I’ll tell you a story.”

Her face grows serious as she nods against my chest. I’m damn sure she knows by now that my stories are no fairytales, that they aren’t fiction.

“Once upon a time there was a guy called Ross who went to prison,” I start. “He had a hard time with the inmates, he almost died of an overdose of pills they gave him because they wanted him dead. Because he himself wanted to die.” She flinches against me, a gasp escaping her, so then I say to hell with it. “But he didn’t die. He doesn’t wanna die. He survived and had his happy ending. The end.”

She thumps her small fist on my pec. “Just tell me the whole story, Ross. Please.”

“That was the whole story. And I just thought of another one to tell you. Once upon a time, here was a guy called Ross who met a girl called Luna and they had lots of fuck-hot sex.”

“Ross.” She’s laughing helplessly.

“All day and night long.” I get up, lifting her in my arms. “And you know what? This is a true story, a damn good story, and it’s about to begin...”

EPILOGUE

Three months later

Luna

“Got the marshmallows?” I yell, trying not to trip over Buddy who keeps sniffing at my feet as I walk.

“All set!” Ross calls out from outside and I push the screen door with my hip, carrying out the tray with the hot chocolate, graham crackers and chocolate. Buddy follows hot on my heels, nose in the air, trotting down faster than I can to go nudge Ross who’s crouched by the fire pit with his wet nose.

“S’up, Buddy?” He puts down the package of skewers he’s been tearing open, spreads his arms and Buddy jumps on him, throwing him on his back. Ross laughs, a wild, wonderful sound, and they tussle in the dirt.

Even dogs will be boys, it seems.

Shaking my head, unable to contain my laughter, I climb down the steps and set the tray on the crate we’re using as our impromptu outdoors table. “Shall I make the s’mores, then, since you guys are so busy?”

“Are you crazy?” Ross sets Buddy aside and sits up, pushing pale hair from his eyes. “S’mores are an art. Observe and learn, young Padawan.”

“Show me.”

“What, this?” He lifts his shirt, and winks, and for a moment I’m struck speechless, staring at his ripped stomach, the rippling muscles.

“The s’mores,” I manage, and resist the urge to fan myself. I shouldn’t feel so hot. It’s cool out here.

“Hm...” He grins as he gets up, and there’s heat in his eyes.