Chapter 20

CHAPTER

TWENTY

Colton couldn't get his eyes to close. He wasn't sure if it was a result of the two bouts of amazing sex they'd had, still processing that Ella had actually thought he'd considered her a pity fuck, or the residual stress that had led him to her shop in the first place.

"You're not sleeping," Ella said, softly snuggled up against him long minutes later.

He tightened his arm around her then trailed his fingers up and down her spine. "Maybe I'm making sure you don't sneak out again."

She chuckled. He loved the sound. "If I promise no sneaking out, will you go to sleep?"

He probably wouldn't, if previous nights when panic attacks had woken him up were any indication, but there was no reason to keep her awake also. "Yes, since I don't have to keep watch on any little runaways. Go to sleep." He kissed the top of her head.

He lay there in silence, staring up at the ceiling. Having Ella here was better all the way around. No, maybe he wouldn't get sleep, but at least he had her close by.

He didn't tend to be very woo-woo, but it felt like somewhere her peaceful aura was combining with his—lending some of her gentle strength .

"You're still not sleeping, are you?" she asked after a long time.

He'd thought she had been out for a while now. "It's okay. You don't need to stay awake."

"Okay, but you know you're going to have to talk about what's going on with you with somebody. Like you said, I don't actually know you very well, so it doesn't need to be me. But…someone."

"I had a panic attack earlier tonight. That's how I showed up at your shop."

"Are the attacks bad?"

"Sometimes. Tonight was bad mostly because the last few days had been so good. I thought I was turning some sort of a corner, maybe. I had actually gone to sleep, and this one woke me up."

"The ones that wake you up are worse?"

"Yeah. The ones that come on during the day are frustrating as hell because I can't seem to stop them, but at least they give some sort of warning—shaking hands, muffled hearing, tunnel vision. I can't necessarily do anything about them, but they at least aren't on me so suddenly." He honestly hadn't planned to talk about this, but now that he'd started, he found that he couldn't stop. "But the ones at night are on top of me when I wake up and…"

He didn't really have the words to explain it. It was like waking up underwater, drowning. Unable to breathe and with no way of knowing which way it was to the surface.

"When you wake up in that state, you're trapped in it," she said softly.

"Yes. Trapped like I'm underwater or…" Shit . "Or like I'm caught under that avalanche."

And it was like that every single time—the panic, the inability to breathe…

"The helplessness," he said. "That's the worst thing about the panic attacks, and it was the worst thing about being in that avalanche. The helplessness. There doesn't seem to be anything I can do to stop what's happening, just like I couldn't at the time either."

"You know that developing PTSD is natural for someone who went through what you did. If it were anybody else, you would have nothing but sympathy and patience for them."

He stared up at the ceiling. "Yeah, probably. But I'm frustrated because it's not like I'm scared. I was telling the truth when I said earlier that I'm still able to do stunts, even ones involving snow. I am."

"And so, because you faced your physical fears, you expect that everything should be okay and that your brain should treat this as if nothing happened."

"No. Not necessarily." But the more he thought about it, the more he knew she was right. "I don't know. Maybe. All I know is that there were a shit-ton of people watching me those first couple weeks after the accident. Everyone was wondering if I was going to get back up on the horse. They all wanted to know if I could still do stunts or if I was going to retire."

And he would never forget the look of relief on face after face as he completed each stunt. The knowledge that Colton Harrison was back, that jobs were secure, that the adventure would live on.

"Did you want to retire?"

"I didn't want to let that avalanche beat me."

"And you haven't."

"It doesn't feel that way sometimes. It feels like I'm no longer in control of my body."

"Some of that may pass with time."

He rolled over and scooted her under him. She's said some things he needed to think about, but for right now, he just wanted to feel . And since they were both awake anyway…

"I'd rather it pass by me spending time with—and in —you."

She smiled up at him. "That works too."

Ella woke up just before her alarm went off, a fairly common practice even when she was burning the candle at both ends .

What wasn't fairly common practice? Colton Harrison sleeping in the bed next to her.

She switched off her alarm and then shifted onto her side so she could look at him. She didn't want to wake him up; he needed the rest, especially after all the energy they'd expended last night. But also, she needed to get over to Fancy Pants to make sure everything was ready there.

She wished she could take the whole day off and just stay in bed with him, but that couldn't happen today. Too many private orders, plus the shop itself was always packed on mornings as the week went on.

But a smile crept up over her face. She was lying in bed with Colton after having the most wonderful night of lovemaking. She could definitely say now that she'd misread the situation last time. He'd gone out of his way to prove that she was not any sort of pity fuck.

As a matter of fact, he had described in great detail what he would do to her if she ever called herself that again around him. Of course, he had to have known that the punishment he was threatening couldn't be taken very seriously—especially when it involved him tying her up in his bed completely naked.

The thought had her squirming a little, which should be impossible, given how they had used each other to exhaustion last night. She needed to get out of this bed before she found herself kissing her way up his body.

She eased her way backward, aware that she was once again sneaking out. This time, she would at least leave a note for him.

But she didn't even make it out of bed. "Sneaking out again?"

He pulled her in for a kiss, and she ran her fingers along his hard jaw. "I wanted to let you sleep."

"What time is it?"

"Early. Before six. It really is okay for you to go back to sleep. I need to go in to the bakery."

"I thought you said you had someone who did the cleanup for you. "

He looked so grumpy, it was pretty endearing. "I do, but today, I'm needed there for other things, to make sure there are no hiccups. There's a big catering order being picked up. The shop staff can't handle that and all our normal business."

He trailed his fingers up her arm and across her collarbone. She couldn't stop her shivers. "You work too hard."

"I'll admit it's been a little hectic with trying to fit in my classes with the campers. But that's temporary, so I'll get caught up on my sleep soon."

He slid back, stretching as he sat up. "I'll come with you."

"You really don't have to. No need for both of us to get up this early."

He reached over and grabbed her wrist, tugging her to him. "It's still a little dark outside, and I'm not letting you walk over there alone. So, if I can't talk you into staying in bed, I'm coming with you."

He kissed her, and it was all she could do not to lose her resolve. If it weren't for this catering order, she would definitely leave her shop workers to manage on their own.

"Trust me." Kiss. "There's nowhere I'd rather be than in this bed with you." Another kiss.

She felt the outline of a smile in his lips against hers. "In that case, you better get going, or we're definitely not making it out of this bed."

Twenty minutes later, they were on their way down the block to Fancy Pants. It was still early enough that there weren't many people out, but all it would take was one person glancing out a window and seeing them walking together at this hour, and the cat would be out of the bag. Oak Creek was many wonderful things—but at the end of the day, it was first and foremost a small town. Gossip reigned supreme.

"You do have coffee at that place, right?" Colton threw an arm around her shoulder. That definitely wasn't going to help if anybody saw them, but she had no desire to move away from him .

"In abundance. Every type you could want. And all sorts of breakfast foods too, so I think you'll survive."

She let out a squeal as he slapped her on her ass. She planned for them to go in through the back, but she saw something sticking out of the front door where the customers would come in. How had she missed that last night?

"Hang on, let me see what that is." She pointed toward the front door and jogged that way.

She heard Colton call her name just as she realized that the object wedged in the crack of the shop's front door was a knife.

"Ella, don't touch it," Colton said from behind her.

She wasn't really listening to him. She was too busy studying the weapon. Why was it there? Why would somebody leave their knife jammed into her door? Maybe it had fallen on the ground, someone had found it, and this was their way of getting it back to the owner?

No, that didn't make sense. Why would someone do that? Small children came to her shop all the time. This could be dangerous. She was mad. She moved more quickly toward the door, ready to grab the knife before someone got hurt.

Colton's hand on her arm stopped her. "Leave it."

"Why? Somebody might get hurt. We have children who come?—"

She stopped when she saw the picture the knife had speared to her door. One of Colton, although you couldn't really make out his face because the blade had gone straight through it.

She looked over at him. He was taking this way too calmly. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Apparently, I picked up a stalker over the past couple of months."

"Is that what you've been talking about with Callum when I've seen him around Linear Tactical?"

Colton nodded, still studying the knife. "Yes. The stalker has been sending me letters, and then she graduated to pictures a little more recently. There was one a few days ago in the door of my cabin, similar to this one. We need to call Callum and get him here."

Colton was already on his phone, contacting the sheriff. Ella was trying to wrap her head around all of this.

"A stalker?" she asked once Colton finished his brief conversation with Callum. "Is she dangerous? Are you safe? Why didn't you tell me about this?"

She could feel her hysteria rising. Evidently, so could Colton. He turned and cupped her cheeks. "It's more of a minor annoyance than anything else. An overzealous fan who has too much time on her hands. You don't have to be scared."

"It's not that I'm scared as much as I hate the thought of this happening to you when you're already under so much stress. Maybe this is part of the reason behind your panic attacks."

"Honestly, the stalker stuff doesn't seem to affect me that way. It has actually given me something else to focus on besides what's happening inside my mind."

She had to admit, he looked a lot calmer and more focused now than he had last night when he'd shown up at the bakery. That made sense if she thought about it. The thought of danger wasn't what caused Colton's panic. It was the thought of helplessness that brought it on.

Still, she didn't like this at all. "But?—"

He squeezed her cheeks gently. "I wasn't trying to hide it from you. I was wrapped up doing much more pleasurable stuff with you than worrying about this. Why don't you go inside and handle what you need to? I'm sure Callum is going to have some questions for you."

"For me?"

"Your mysterious person in the window with the black hoodie last night? That's probably the closest thing we have to any sort of solid lead."

"That's why you asked me if I saw a woman. Because your stalker is a woman. "

"Yes. And if you can remember any details of her face, it would really help."

"I don't know that I remember anything at all."

He reached forward and kissed her. "That's okay. Like I said, an overzealous fan. She'll eventually wear herself out. I don't think we have any real reason to be concerned. It's going to be fine."

The knife stabbed through a picture of Colton's face certainly did not make it seem that way.