Chapter 16: Robyn

I wake with a start in a pitch-dark room. It must be before dawn still, as no light is filtering through the curtains. I can hear the wind battering the window panes and occasionally a tree branch brushes the side of the cabin. But as blustery as it is outside, I’m toasty warm here in Micah’s bed. With Micah. He’s pressed up against my back, one of his legs intertwined with mine.

I’m spooning with Micah.

From the moment I first saw him, I was attracted to him, but I never dreamed we’d find ourselves together like this. Ever since losing my parents, it’s been hard for me to get close to people, especially men. My foster father was a creep, and the other boys in the home were troublemakers. But I find it easy being with Micah. He’s so selfless. He’s kind and gentle, and he wears his heart on his sleeve.

I’m not sure which one of us was more surprised by what happened last night—me or him. But after that dance, after having Micah’s hands on me, I realized I wanted more. I wanted him . All of him. Life’s too short not to go for what you want. I’ve learned that the hard way.

The heat of his body radiates deliciously against my bare back. He shifts in his sleep, murmuring something I can’t make out as he tightens his hold on me, his arm around my waist, anchoring me to him. Even in sleep, he’s a protector.

I close my eyes and let my mind drift. I can’t remember a time when I felt so comfortable, so at ease, so safe. I don’t have to worry about who might come through that door. If someone does I know Micah will deal with it.

As I snuggle back against him, my eyelids grow heavy again, and I feel myself dozing off.

* * *

The next time my eyes open, I see the first hint of sunrise filtering through the sheer curtains. My bladder is full, so I slip out of Micah’s arms and disappear into the bathroom for a much-needed pee break. While I’m in here, I brush my teeth, then head back to bed. We don’t have to get up for another half hour or so, so I slide back beneath the covers so I can snuggle with Micah.

He rolls on top of me with a heavy sigh, pretending he’s still asleep.

“I know you’re awake,” I say, slipping my arms around him. “You’re crushing me.”

He wraps his arms around me, pulling me closer so that my breasts are pressed against his chest. He nuzzles his nose against mine.

“I wish we could lie here all day,” I murmur, loathe to leave this bed. To leave him.

“We can, if you want. Just call off today. Jenny won’t mind.”

“I can’t. I need the money. My transmission isn’t going to pay for itself.”

“There’s no rush, is there? Are you in a hurry to be someplace else?”

“No.” I press a kiss to his bare shoulder.

“Maybe you could be a few minutes late then.”

“Maybe I could.” I slip my hand between our bodies and wrap my fingers around his heated erection. I can feel him throbbing and lengthening in my grasp as I tighten my grip.

He groans as he reaches into the top nightstand drawer to grab a condom.

Last night was fast and frantic. This time it’s slow. Slow touches, slow strokes, slow kisses. Every touch is intentional. Every gasp says it all.

Once he’s inside me, he rolls us so that I’m on top. As I sit astride him, his hands are free to skim up my torso and cup my breasts. As I rock on him, setting my own pace, chasing my own pleasure, he focuses on my breasts, gently teasing my nipples. He leans up to suckle one, and then the other, and as they tighten, I feel a corresponding pull between my legs.

“Beautiful,” he says, his voice low and rough.

I angle my position so that he’s hitting my sweet spot, and it’s not long before my muscles are tightening and my nerves are singing. I bite my lip, trying to be quiet as my orgasm hits me like a tidal wave.

Micah leans up to kiss me, locking our mouths together. “I want to hear you,” he murmurs against my lips. “Please.”

I allow myself to trust him because the pleasure is too intense to keep all to myself. I cry out, my voice high pitched and keening. The sound sends him over the edge, and suddenly he’s thrusting up into me, all the way, chasing his own climax. And he lets me hear him, his voice low and guttural as he shouts his release.

I wish we could stay just like this all day, but we can’t. I have to go to work. We end up showering together, both of us sliding soapy hands over each other’s body. After we rinse off, Micah guides my head beneath the spray, wetting my hair, and then he squirts my shampoo into his hand and lathers me up. As he’s rinsing my hair, I realize how long it’s been since anyone has taken care of me like this—not since my mom was alive.

I return the favor and wash his hair, although my arms are aching by the time I’m done because I have to stretch so high to reach the top of his head.

When we’re done, we take turns drying our hair. He lets me braid his hair. Finally, dried off and dressed, we head out together, holding hands as we walk to the truck.

Everything’s different now. There’s a sense of closeness between us that wasn’t there before. An energy. An excitement.

And as we head into town, I realize I can’t remember ever feeling this happy.

* * *

Not surprisingly, Saturday is busy at the diner. We have lots of regulars coming in, as well as tourists coming and going from Estes Park. Despite the crush, it’s a good day. The tips are great, and we have several large parties. Large parties often translate to large tips. Not always, of course, but fortunately, today they do.

Tommy Hoffman comes in at lunch, but Jenny spots him first and seats him at one of her tables. He tries to catch my eye, waving me over, but I ignore him. All I can think about is how he and his friends called Micah half-breed in school and ostracized him. That pisses me off.

When I come out of the ladies room, he’s there, waiting.

“Hey, Robyn. It was great seeing you last night at the tavern.” When he reaches for my hand, I yank it away, out of his reach. “You’re not really dating Micah Jackson, are you?” He scowls. “Please tell me you’re not. He’s so far beneath you.”

Are we dating? We’ve never actually gone out on a date. I don’t think last night at the tavern counts because that was just a friends thing, and he invited me along to meet everyone before we started getting close.

I’m tempted to say, “Dating? No, not really. But we’re definitely fucking.” I would love to say that just to see the look on his face. But before I can get the words out, Jenny comes to my rescue. “Robyn, can you take table five for me? Thanks.”

“No problem,” I say, eager to walk away from Tommy. Jenny remains in place, an immovable obstacle in Tommy’s way, until I’m gone from his sight.

Ricky’s been calling me on and off all day, and of course I let his calls go to voice mail. I’ve listened to a couple of them during my breaks. He’s worried and frustrated, and at times angry because I won’t take his calls.

Each time he calls, he leaves the same message:

Ricky: u need to come home robyn verne is furious. He knows where u r. it’s not safe

Yes, I’m in a bad situation, but he’s the reason. He’s the one who tried to rope me into working for his dealer.

At three o’clock sharp, I hear the door open, and I turn knowing I’ll see Micah standing there. Sure enough, there he is, but this time, it’s different. He’s even looking at me differently. I wave at him and motion toward the employee lounge, indicating I need to change. He nods.

As I hurry off to change, I notice Jenny coming up to chat with him, the two of them laughing. I have a whole new appreciation for Jenny and her long-time friendship with Micah. She and Chris obviously didn’t treat him differently, or use racial slurs, back when they were in school. They stuck by him. And obviously, they’re still friends.

By the time I’m back from the break room, Micah’s smile has morphed into a frown.

“What’s wrong?” I ask as he holds the door open for me. I step out onto the sidewalk.

“Jenny told me about Tommy crowding you in the back hallway. What did he say to you?”

I’m not about to tell him exactly what Tommy said—that Micah was beneath me—just more of his racial bullshit. “He asked if you and I were dating.”

Micah’s eyes widen in surprise. “What did you say?”

I shrug nonchalantly. “I said yes.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Instead, his lips curve into a smile. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Do you have a problem with that?”

He shakes his head. “No, ma’am. I do not.” He steps closer. “If we are, then I guess you’d be okay if I kissed you, right here, right now.”

“It would.” My cheeks heat up. Right here, in public. In view of the diner and all the customers and staff. I notice Jenny watching us through the front window.

He takes another step closer, cups my face, and leans in to kiss me. It’s a long and languid kiss. It’s the kind of kiss that occurs between two people who have seen each other naked. The kind of kiss that says, I want to see you naked again, very soon.

I glance through the window and see Jenny watching us, a huge smile on her face as she gives me a thumbs up.

* * *

When we get back to the auto shop, Micah tells me he’s going to work a little while longer on my transmission.

“Can I help?” I ask. I don’t know a thing about working on cars, but I want to spend time with him.

“Sure,” he says. “Make yourself comfortable.”

I bring a stool over and sit so I can watch what he’s doing.

I’ll feel so much better when my car is fixed. I’ll be able to drive myself to work and run errands on my own. But of course I have no plans to leave Bryce anytime soon. I have a lot of money to save up so I can pay Micah back for the transmission and the work he’s doing. That’s going to take time. And even then, I don’t even want to think about leaving Micah. We haven’t talked about what’s next for us—what the future will bring—but I hope this isn’t a short-term thing.

Inside, it’s cool and noisy, and it smells like motor oil and grease. Tony’s using some kind of power tool to remove tires from a small white car. Pete’s working under the hood of a red convertible.

I watch Micah work, having no idea what he’s doing. I find myself preoccupied by watching his arms and hands move, watching his muscles flex and bunch, and admiring the sexy veins on his arms. Arm porn, for sure.

“Wrench, please?” he asks, winking at me as he points to a large metal tool resting on a stand.

I hand him the wrench.

He opens his mouth to reply, but before he can get a word out, his phone rings. After pulling it from his back pocket and checking the caller ID, he holds up an index finger. “Sorry, just a sec. It’s Killian. I need to get this.” He takes a few steps away to accept the call, listens a moment, then says, “Roger that. I’ll meet you at the airfield in twenty minutes.”

Apparently, I’m not the only one he chauffeurs around.

Micah pockets his phone. “You remember Killian, from last night at the tavern? He’s asked me to fly up to a camp and bring down a guest who broke his ankle and can’t hike down. It’s not exactly a rescue. It’s more like glorified taxi service.”

“Right now?” I ask.

“Yep.” He lowers the hood on the car. “Looks like your transmission will have to wait until Monday.” Then to Tony and Pete, he says, “Duty calls, guys. I’m flying a medevac mission.” He turns to me. “Want to come with me?”

“Seriously?” I hop down off the stool. “I can come?”

“Sure. It’s a routine, nonemergency flight. You can ride along and do some sightseeing from the air. There’s always room on the chopper for one more.”

My heart jumps at the idea. I’ve never been in a helicopter before. I flew in a plane once with my parents when I was five, but I hardly remember the experience. “You bet I want to come.”