No Gentle Giant (A Small Town Romance)

But I’m surprised to find he’s not looking at me.

He’s tilted his head back, staring up at the sky, his dark eyes drinking in the stars and reflecting them back until I see entire galaxies above and below.

“I’ve been scared to death of women since Katelyn,” he confesses, so quiet and yet with a raw, heartfelt honesty scorching every word. “There was a day Eli could’ve died because of her. She let him get lost in a park that doubles as a nature preserve, thousands of acres of untamed wilderness where anything could happen to a little boy. She was drunk. So focused on her new boyfriend and her booze that she forgot to give a shit about Eli.”

My breath stalls.

The hurt I feel is this strange echo of the pain in his voice, but it’s my own agony too.

A phantom grief for the alternate future where Eli and possibly even Alaska never would’ve existed, never would’ve walked into my life, never would’ve been there to save me when I needed it the most.

When he’s still protecting me in my darkest hour.

Oh my God.

“Terrible. I’m so sorry,” I whisper, and he smiles grimly, giving back his eyes.

“Not your fault. Point is, I vowed that day I’d fight for him with all my soul. I’ve never put myself ahead of my boy. Never got so focused on my own needs that he turned into an afterthought. Hell, if I’m being honest...” He heaves out a deep sigh that makes his thick chest rise and fall heavily. “I was scared for me, too. I’d fallen out of love with Katelyn by the divorce. She showed me who she really was with her drinking and her recklessness. Doesn’t mean she didn’t sledgehammer my heart into glass beads. You do that once, you get real uneasy about letting anyone do it again.”

Doesn’t he know he’s taking a chisel to mine with every word?

I just want to throw myself at him, squeeze his neck, and show him it’s okay.

Because if we have a chance—if he’s willing to take that chance with me—I’ll die before I savage him again.

My heart’s a heavy rock in my stomach, my breath hardening to a lump in my throat, but I try to smile anyway.

“I’d promise I’ll never hurt you,” I say. “But no one can promise that. You know all my secrets now. I don’t have more nasty surprises waiting. No bodies in my basement or anything. If you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop...” I shift my weight in the chair so I can stretch my legs out, wiggling my feet a little in my boots. “They’re both right here. Not falling anywhere else.”

As I’d hoped, that gets a laugh, some of the pensive weight lifting off him and leaving his tense shoulders looser, lighter.

He gives me a wry look.

“No worries, woman. You and Katelyn are nothing alike. She chose her demons. You inherited yours, and you’ve been doing everything you can to chase ’em off.” His eyes soften. “Now we’re doing everything we can to finish it together. We’ll get it sorted. We’ll set you free.”

“I wish I had your confidence.” I drop my feet, heels thudding lightly against the planks of the deck, and wrap my arms snug around my shoulders. “Still. I feel like I’m finally moving forward. And part of moving forward means overcoming my fears and just...”

“And?”

“Trusting someone else,” I admit shyly. “Trusting you won’t disappear or drop me. Suddenly decide you hate me.” I swallow. “Not come back.”

“Like your old man,” he whispers.

“...just like Dad.”

Ms. Wilma had me pegged with precision after all.

Alaska doesn’t say anything, not with words.

He offers me his hand, stretching it across the space between us like one half of a thing that could be so perfect if I could just figure out how to slide into it without completely destroying it.

Tentatively, I slip my hand into his.

I can’t resist him or the intense way he stares.

This man sees me like he sees something no one ever has.

Not a rumor.

Not a mystery.

Not a nuisance.

Not a problem to be fixed.

Not a list of issues to be grudgingly accepted.

Just the woman I am—the person in the now—and not even some nebulous future me where I may or may not be a better version of myself.

And I know exactly what present me is.

Destroyed.

So many feelings lash through me my eyes sting.

No one’s ever given me eyes like Alaska, and it makes my heart flutter as his fingers curl around mine, folding them so warmly it’s like he’s enveloping my entire body and cocooning me in safety.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he says, rich and rolling and fervent. “You’re not the only one who needs to trust. I want to trust the way I feel around you. The way you feel so good with me, with Eli. I don’t give a damn about Paisley or whatever bullshit life throws at us. I want to weather those things with you, Fliss. Not wait around, and only have you when conditions are ideal.” His grip tightens on my hand, reassuring, steady. “That’s not how being with someone works. Only wanting them when things are perfect, but holding back when they’re not.”