32. Remi

Chapter 32

Remi

B right green leaves, sharp as razor blades, tore at my arms. I broke through the edge of the cornfield and skimmed the yard. No sign of Angie. Myles’s truck and trailer still sat in the driveway. It took me a while to spot Nora and Myles sitting in camp chairs on the front lawn. They both sipped iced tea or lemonade. I couldn’t tell in the darkening twilight.

Nora pointed to the back. “She went that way.”

I sprinted toward the barn. Knowing exactly where Angie would be, I opened the barn door, barely making out her figure. As my eyes acclimated, her movements became more refined. She rubbed her horse’s nose and leaned into Mae’s forehead. Soft noises like … crying? … sounded in the dark barn.

I was as dumb as a box of rocks. In fact, if my brains were dynamite, I wouldn’t be able to blow my nose. Locating the light switch, I flipped it on before I walked toward her.

“Stop.” She didn’t look at me. Her hand paused on Mae’s nose. “Don’t come any closer.”

“No.” I approached her as I would a doe primed to bolt, forcing her to turn her attention to me. “I’m sorry, but I can’t stay away. Not from you.”

She dropped her hands from Mae and focused on me with a glare hotter than all the fires of hell. “You don’t make any sense. With all your Texas sayings and how you’re kind and treat me like I matter—but that’s not important. Men never change. You’ll never change. You’ll never—”

“Angie, you don’t need to run away from me.”

She rubbed at the tears which had cut lines in the leftover mud on her face. “What about that girl on your porch?”

“Kathryn.”

“Whatever her name is. You’ve done this before with a bajillion women.”

“I don’t know any man with the stamina for that many women.”

“You know what?” She threw her hands in the air and walked to the back of the barn, which suited me fine. The further from Mae, the better. I followed her while she kept talking, “I don’t even know why I am asking. I don’t know why I’m crying. You’re not worth it.”

“I told Kathryn she deserves better than I treated her. And ,” I pointed at her, “you’re crying because you care,” I shoved my thumb to my chest, “about me.”

“No, I don’t. I would never fall for a … d-dirty man-whore like you.” More silent tears fell, telling me the opposite was true. She stomped outside into the early night, and I continued to trail her.

Ignoring the dirty man-whore part, I smiled, and the clamp around my heart eased. Had she fallen for me? Could a miracle like that be possible? She came to a stop by the haystack and folded in on herself.

I stepped in front of her and ran my hand along her cheek to her chin. I tilted her head up until the moon glinted in her eyes and lost myself in their depths. “I didn’t know you existed when I was with Kathryn.”

Her stance softened a little. Mae whinnied and knickered inside the barn, but Angie didn’t approach her. Taking her wrists in my hands, I drew her close to my chest. I slid my hands along Angie’s forearm to her upper arm, rubbing circles with my thumb on her skin. I moved my hands onto her shoulders, mimicking the same movement, and as if drawn in by a magnet, she leaned closer to me.

Finally , I’d broken through whatever wall she’d built between us. I’d anticipated this kiss since the mountain trail, dreamed of it. The promise of this moment had robbed me of my focus. It took me ten times longer to do tasks I’d grown used to doing.

With the barest of pressure from my fingertips, she molded her body to mine. I dropped my grip to her lower back, pressing her into me. I reveled in the contact.

Angie didn’t resist as I tugged her toward the haystack—one step, two—until my back was firm against the tarped bales. The stars had become visible at night, carpeting the ceiling above us.

Not capable of holding back any longer, the control I’d exhibited in the past weeks crumbled. I covered her lips with mine. With this kiss, I tried to show more restraint and play with her body gently. But once I made contact, a frenzy ignited inside me. I couldn’t get enough of her.

Tangling one of my hands in her hair, I tugged and tilted her chin up to give me better access to her throat. My other hand gripped her bottom, pressing her into me.

I moved my lips back onto hers. In all my experiences with women, I’d never come close to the sensation. My tongue delved into her mouth, and she responded, challenging me with the same level of hunger.

Fireworks erupted overhead. I lifted my lips from her and tilted my head to watch the colors dance across her face. Her lips were swollen, her hair matted and in disarray, and yet I’d never seen a more beautiful woman. Nothing mattered to me more than her happiness. I wanted to be with her—to see her and make love to her—every day for the rest of my life.

More fireworks exploded in the sky, reflecting in her dark pupils, which were nearly as wide as her irises. She ran her tongue along her lips, her breath tickling my neck. I dipped my head and kissed her again, tugging her bottom lip with my teeth. I traced my lips along her cheekbone to her ear.

“Angie,” I whispered. “I love you.” My heartbeat grew as loud as the crashing fireworks in the sky.

Immediately, she stopped moving against me and put a hand on my chest. She pushed off me. “No.”

“I love you,” I said it louder this time and willed her to look at me, to see the sincerity in my eyes. Her head remained tilted down. I’d never said those three words to anyone before, and this wasn’t how I’d imagined the woman I loved responding.

She shook her head. “I’m such a fool.” Then she darted into the night.

The last of the sparks faded to oblivion on their crash course to Earth.