Chapter 11 - Lena

"You ready?" Cyrus looks flustered, and I definitely didn't miss Evander's comment. Nice to know at least I'm not the only one tormented by this situation. It's bad enough having him call me out on how fond I was of his butt early today.

I picked this outfit specifically to see if I still get the same rise out of him.

"Yeah, if I can just have my keys, I'll head out."

"I'm going with you—"

"No, you're not, remember? Girls' night. Damn it, Cy. I can"t keep having the same argument."

"Not to the book-wine thing. I'm just driving you there and walking you in. That's all. I just don't want to see anything else happen to you. I promise, you can have your girls' night in peace. I was going to run this stuff to the post office while you're there anyway."

The sincere look in his eyes hits me with the force of a truck. Crap. The ache in my shoulder is enough of a reminder of just how fragile I may actually be, no matter how much I want to argue the opposite. Something about him looking vulnerable and fragile in this moment also just chips away at my resolve.

"Fine, then we better go. They close in an hour."

"Okay. I'll drive. That way, you don't have to worry about your shoulder. Pretty sure there's something about concussions and heavy machinery, too, but I'd have to ask Milo about that."

He opens the car door for me, holding it open patiently. He can be such a gentleman when he wants to be. I can't understand how to reconcile that Cyrus with the person who could just leave me without a word.

"How did he get so good at medical stuff? He can't be much older than Rosie, can he?" I ask as she settles in the driver's seat of my SUV.

"He's a little older than Rose, just looks super young still. He's twenty-five. He's been training in it for years. He has a real gift for healing. You look nice tonight, by the way."

My heart does a little extra thumping over his attention. It's nice to know he appreciates it. I want him desperately, but I also don't know what to do with all of these emotions. Instead, I just nod awkwardly.

"Thanks. We try to dress up a little for this since it's the one night a month most of us actually get out of the house and away from kids and work. Rosie decided I needed makeup, so she did all this."

"Well, she did a great job. Not that you need it."

Dang it. Why is he being so nice right now? It's much easier to stay mad at him when he's being a jealous jerk.

"It's this house right up here on the right, with the carved bear out front."

I ignore the compliment. Maybe it's for the best. The more he genuinely tries, the closer the memories of how he was and how we were rise to the surface. It's hard to stay mad at him when those memories are lurking so fresh under the surface.

We pull up outside Sarah's respectable little house tucked away in the woods. He gets out before I have managed to fumble with the door and opens it for me.

"You don't have to do that," I grumble as I step out of the car and end up entirely too close to him in the process. I can feel my body leaning just slightly toward him. The closeness has me inhaling just to get a little bit more of his scent.

Get a grip, Lena. No. Down girl. Start moving, you traitor.

"I know, but I want to."

He shuts the door as I step away from him. He catches up with me halfway up the sidewalk to the door and slides an arm around my waist. I can't resist the shiver of desire that pulls at me. I definitely need wine. Lots of wine.

"What are you doing?" I hiss at him since it isn't really a great way to lay low if we have a screaming match on Sarah's front step.

"Walking my wife to the door. Remember? Have to sell it. Wildly in love and all that."

I haven't even made it two steps up onto the front porch before Sarah opens the door. Her eyes light up with delight at the image of him with me. Speaking of traitors.

"Oh my God! Did you finally get her to cave and talk to you?"

"You could say that, yes," Cyrus offers her with a tentative and careful tone. He's trying so hard to behave right now, but ultimately, I still want to elbow him hard in the abs, even though it will do me no good other than injuring my other arm.

"Thanks, but I've got it from here, Babe," I groan as I extract myself from under his arm and move to head inside. Space. I need space… and a gallon of wine.

I don't even make it all the way to the door before I feel his hand slide around the back of my neck and spin me back toward him. His lips are on mine, more tender than I thought they'd be, and I can't even help that I immediately respond by deepening the kiss. My good hand grips hard against his bicep where it'd come to rest as he spun me into him.

Sarah lets out some sort of gasp, and he breaks the kiss off with a significant amount of effort. Touching his forehead to mine briefly before stepping back off the porch.

"What was that for?" I can't help the question. It blurts out before I really have time to recover from the dazed rush of the feeling of his lips on mine and his tongue in my mouth.

"Just giving my wife a proper goodbye kiss." He winks at Sarah and turns and marches off toward the car.

I'm going to kill him. I'm not sure how, but I will make him pay for that one.

"Did he just say wife?"

"Wine first, then story time."

"Yeah, I'd say. You can start with how you got married without telling me and what the hell happened to your arm."

We settle in on the couch with wine, waiting for the rest of the ladies to arrive, and I fill Sarah in on the details. I give her the full story that I had sworn to the guys I wouldn't tell anyone.

Sarah's the other half of my brain, and there are literally no secrets between us. On top of that, with her being the sheriff, we may want her to know if there are slightly murderous people running around breaking into places.

"I don't like this," Sarah mutters as she sips her wine. "I haven't heard anything at all, and for them to show up out of the blue like this is weird. And while objectively, as your friend, I do hope that the whole situation with you and him can somehow work out because he's literally the only person you've ever felt anything for, the work side of my brain doesn't trust this, Lena. You should have come to me first."

"I get it, believe me, I do. You should come over and meet with Evander and have him show you this file. They found people in my root cellar, Sarah. Lurking around my house. They attacked Rosie and me. What if they hadn't been there? Where would Rosie and I be?"

The doorbell rings, offering a slight reprieve from the guilt that is weighing heavily in my stomach for not calling her right away about the break-in. I should have. She would have known how to handle all of this.

"We're not done talking about this," Sarah calls over her shoulder as she heads for the door to let the other ladies in. Our little group of six women who felt like outcasts in town had formed pretty naturally.

I am—or was I, guess—a single mom by choice still since I refused to date, which pretty much made me the worst of the bunch in the eyes of the town. Sarah is the first female sheriff, and beyond that she dared to stay single, which has the older women in town concerned.

Bernadette is pretty much branded the town harlot by the bridge ladies. When she went off to college and had a very public affair with her English professor, the rumor found its way back to town, and the gossip kicked off. She embraces her title as the town whore and lives up to it every chance she gets. Bernadette is like the little sister of our group.

Peyton is widowed with three kids and chooses to stay single. She is at least spared the same treatment I receive over being single since it wasn't by choice initially, but she still has the bridge ladies throwing men at her left and right.

Julie and Georgia live together and have all the bridge ladies whispering over their tea if they are lesbians, even though they truly are just good friends. I can't even remember how many times they have outright asked me. It's definitely the downside to living in such a small town.

"Come on, everyone, you can join my interrogation over Lena's new husband," Sarah catches my eye with far too much glee glinting in her own. She may be worried, but she will definitely not let the opportunity to harass me about this pass by. There are gasps and a lot of general chaos as we start to settle in.

They grill me with questions about Cyrus and the other guys and are overwhelmingly all of the same opinion that it's about time we had some decently attractive men arrive in town. Somehow, Bernadette is convinced she's going to sleep her way through them.

"Okay, fine. Your husband is off the list. But the other five? Totally going to happen. Can you honestly tell me you aren't enjoying having all that muscle around your house?"

"I'm still… adjusting to him being back. It's not all sunshine and rainbows. He was gone for eight years."

"Yeah, but the sex. Come on, he's got to be good. I saw him at Gunn's the other day, and honestly, I think I got pregnant just from looking at him," Julie laughs.

Not only is there no world where I want to think about sex with Cyrus right now when I'm already fighting the temptation daily, but there's also absolutely no way I am going to talk about it with the girls yet. Not when I can't even decide what to do with the kiss before he left.

"We're uh, well, we're taking it slow right now. So, no, you get nothing. Go read your smut books for a fix, Jules," I laugh and bury my embarrassment in a large gulp of wine.

"Ignore them, Honey," Peyton laughs around a sip of her wine, "None of them have kids. Much as we love them, I don't think the girls can understand why we're a little more cautious."

I know I should slow down on the drinking. With the concussion still somewhat present, I probably don't need alcohol in my system. I'm not sure I'll survive the questioning tonight without it. There's also a real chance I will lose control of all sense of willpower and climb my husband like a tree.

As the warm, comfortable feeling of tipsiness takes over, that option is sounding like a better and better idea. I try to put the idea out of my mind as Bernadette amuses us with her latest story about driving an hour and a half up the pass to hook up with some guy she found on her new dating app.

She's mid-explanation when a flash of headlights catches everyone's attention. There's a rush of giggles as they all run to the window and peek out to see Cyrus getting out and leaning against the hood of my car.

"Honestly, Lena, he could be a full-blown psycho, and I would still let that man ruin me and then respectfully ask for another, please," Peyton laughs.

"He can spank my daddy issues right out of me," Bernadette adds with a sip of her wine.

"How does the shirt actually fit like that?" Julie asks with a wistful sigh.

"I mean, he must buy them like three sizes too small," Georgia giggles.

Some deep part of me doesn't like them fawning over him. He's mine, in whatever warped way we've ended up here.

"Calm down, ladies. He's taken, remember? And besides, the shirt is definitely three sizes too small and cuts off all the oxygen to his brain. I'm pretty sure that's why he's acting like a jealous caveman every chance he gets. Lack of blood flow."

They all burst out laughing as I gather up my things. I don't think I can sit here listening to them all gush over him without losing my patience and just acting on all the absurd ideas it's causing.

"I'm sure there's a blood flow issue, but it's not from the shirt," Bernadette quips as I stick my tongue out at her. I am the model of maturity, Ladies and Gentlemen.

"On that note, I'm going to go."

"She's going to go… climb that man like a tree, I hope," Georgia snickers as she shakes her head, "You're in trouble, Lena."

I make it to the door on slightly unbalanced feet and shut the door to the laughter behind me, hoping that he hasn't been able to hear any of their cat calls while the door was open. He strides quickly up the walk and catches me with an arm around my waist before I make it off the step.

"How very chivalrous of you."

"You're drunk."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious, how very percept—perceptible… perceptive of you."

He stifles a sigh and pulls me to a stop. I am a little slow to respond, and before I've really registered what he's doing, he lifts me up into his arms and starts carrying me off toward the car.

A howl of laughter drifts from inside the house, along with whistles and a particular, "Get it, Daddy," that has to be Bernadette.

"Oh my God, I am never going to hear the end of it from them."

He sets me down, helping to steady me on my feet next to the car as he unlocks and opens the door, holding it open for me and offering me a hand to help stabilize myself.

"If you want to make sure I never touch you again, call me Daddy. That's a hard pass from me," he laughs with a wink as I settle into the seat of the car.

I have never had the urge to call him or anyone else Daddy. Gross.

I blink up at him and wonder what he's waiting for as he stands there looking down at me in the car. He shakes his head and leans in, grabbing the seat belt and reaching across me to fasten it.

His face is inches from mine, and he holds in a breath like he's thinking about kissing me. His pupils are like pinpricks in the low light, and I want so badly for him to just do it. I lean forward, making the decision for him, but he pulls away before I can get my lips to him, shutting the car door as he turns away.

"Rude," I mutter as he gets in the car opposite me, "You won't let me call you Daddy and won't let me kiss you. So many rules."

He laughs a deep, genuine laugh as he starts the car and pulls out of the driveway. It's good to hear him laugh like that. It makes me feel warm and secure in a way it shouldn't.

"Pretty sure it was you with all the rules, Sweetheart. The only one I have is maybe not taking advantage of you when you're clearly sloshed and still getting over a concussion. I may be convinced to spank the daddy issues out of you, though, if that's really your thing."