Nobody should be this damn cute, if I’m being honest.
Nobody should be this knockout sexy, especially wearing that, but my eyes can’t stay off her hips.
It’s like she’s this collection of impulses she wears with pride.
My gut aches hot, my blood runs lava, wondering what it’d be like to just grab her and—
Yeah.
Pull her out of her moment, and into mine.
“So what does this count as?” I ask quietly, half-smirking. “’Cause it feels a little like an ambush to me. I got nowhere to go, now, unless I want to run off into the snow like a Yeti.”
She laughs. “You’re furry enough.”
“Hey. I ain’t that damn hairy past the beard. I’ve got a pretty average to slightly above average amount of hair for any normal dude.”
“Oh, so you’ve quantified it? Interesting.” Giggling, she steps out on the porch, letting the doors swing shut behind her, and pulls her thick coat tighter around her with a little shiver, exhaling a cloudy puff of breath. “Seriously, Blake, are you okay? I’m sorry if I brought more mess to your doorstep.” She cocks her head, studying me.
“Not a mess. Just some welcome chaos.” I stand up, offering her my chair. It’s already warm, and I’m wearing a hell of a lot more layers and can stand the other chair. “Here. C’mon. By the fire pit. Those pants are too thin for you to be out here.”
She settles down in the chair, tucking herself up in a comfy ball, leaning toward the fire.
I drag the other chair closer, add some wood to the flickering circle of orange light and warmth, and sit, leaning forward and resting my elbows on my knees.
My eyes catch on the flames, feeling like I dragged her into something, even if it’s not my fault.
This mountain town is like an ocean.
Seems smooth and calm on the surface, but underneath, there are dark things aplenty.
Things with big teeth, waiting to drag you down and never let you come up for air again.
If you ain’t careful, Heart’s Edge will drown you.
And I’m scared I’m a weight pulling this girl under the surface and into that breathless dark, when she’d just wanted to spend a quiet winter here and then move on.
Someone like Peace ain’t made to be held down.
She’s the bird in that song she sang.
Meant to fly.
“Sorry,” I say. It’s out before I can stop it. “I regret getting you tangled up in this.”
Peace makes a soft, quizzical sound. “I don’t get what you’re apologizing for? You didn’t do anything.”
“I did, though. I…fuck.” I grind my teeth. “I think it’s Clark. That kid Andrea likes. And I can’t even fucking ask her about it because I’m a softie. Can’t face down my own daughter, so I’m just dragging this out and if I don’t do something, it could get even more dangerous. I wouldn’t put it past that little shit to really hurt someone, whether he means to or not.”
Someone like Peace.
No, dammit. I have to have that conversation with Andrea soon, like it or lump it.
She sucks in a breath. “Clark? The tall boy we saw at the carnival grounds?”
“Yeah,” I grunt. “His uncle’s a pyro expert. Does the holiday shows around here and big entertainment shit, too. Clark’s been training with him. He knows fire, and he knows just how to piss me off because I don’t want him around my daughter. I don’t know how it got like this. How Andrea turned into such a scary little cactus. She used to be this sweet thing, and now…girl’s a wild mess, hooking up with a reckless pyromaniac idiot.”
“I don’t think you’re scared of her,” Peace points out gently. “I think you’re afraid of hurting her…and afraid of losing her. That’s a different thing, Blake.”
“Doesn’t feel like it,” I admit, my voice simmering to a growl.
I hate this shit.
Always turning so rough and worn around this woman.
And she just picks up all my pieces, smoothing them back together.
I swallow hard. “Feels like I lost her already anyway, honestly. She’s so damn mad at me about everything.”
I’m not expecting Peace to laugh.
It’s a soft, soothing laugh, warm as the red-hot embers dancing in front of me.
Instead of feeling mocked, I’m just enveloped in her sweetness, lifted by that sound.
“She’s sixteen,” Peace says. “I didn’t stop being angry at my dad for dying until I was twenty. And I was sad and missing him. You’re right here, and you’re an easy target. Of course she’s mad at you. It’s your job to make her mad at you, just by being dad. Because dad lays down the rules that keep her out of trouble. Later, she’ll understand, especially when those rules mean you’re the guy she can count on to be there when things go bad, too. But if your daughter’s mad at you, then you’re doing something right, Blake.”