Page 17 of Bullets & Bonfires

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A soft smile turns her mouth up. “That’s a good thing.”

“I didn’t see it that way at the time.”

“What happened?”

Damn, I hate reliving that period of my life. But the eagerness on her face is the first strong emotion she’s shown since our fight, so I continue. “I couldn’t sleep or eat. I was a miserable dick to everyone around me.”

“You weren’t…in trouble or anything, were you?”

“At first. There was an investigation.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

Her outrage on my behalf lifts some of the lingering bitterness in my chest. “A kid lost his life.”

“But it wasn’t your fault.”

“It didn’t matter. I didn’t do myself any favors by acting like a jerk to everyone who tried to help me.”

Her cheeks flush and she drops her eyes to the ground. “So, how did you get back to yourself?”

“My parents. Dad dragged my ass out of bed. Mom found a doctor. I couldn’t go back to work until a psychologist cleared me. But I didn’t dare go to the department doc until I had my head on straight.”

“It’s a good thing your mom and dad were there for you.” Her voice cracks and a few tears roll down her cheeks.

I cup her face with my hand and she leans into my touch, briefly closing her eyes. “I’m here for you. Whatever you need, Bree. You just have to ask.”

“God, Liam. Don’t you ever get tired of helping me out? I’ve been a mess since we met.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Come on. Vince and I always needed a place to stay when things went to shit at home.”

“That wasn’t your fault.”

“No. But look where I am. I haven’t turned out much better.”

My fingers drop to her chin and I turn her to face me. “Listen to me. You’re amazing. Don’t let this one guy define you.”

She shakes out of my hold.

“Bree, eyes on me,” I snap, using my sharp cop voice. Her eyes meet mine, and I search for the right words to get through to her. “I’ve seen enough of these guys. They’re smooth. Good at convincing a woman it’s all her fault. It’s not. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I feel so stupid.”

This time, I pull her into my arms and kiss the top of her head. “You’re such a sweet, smart, loving beautiful woman. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re a hometown hero.” A quick smile brightens her face.

“I’m no hero, Bree.”

“You’re my hero,” she insists.

“Br—”

One of our poles clatters against the rocks, startling us apart.

“Fish on!” Bree yelps, wriggling out of my embrace. She jumps up and races over to her pole.

The second she grabs her rod and starts reeling it in, my rod tip dips down.

Bree’s hoots of joy are contagious, and I also yell “Fish on” even though we’re the only ones in the area.

We reel them in side-by-side.

Bree’s trout dwarfs mine. By a lot.

“Aw, it looks like we caught a mama fish and her baby,” she teases.

Laughter bursts out of me, and she smiles even wider. “Yup. I think you caught yourself a trophy there.” The only thing that matters to me is that she’s having fun. This is what I wanted today to be about. Bree doing something she’s good at and enjoying herself.

“You’re going to be delicious with lemon and garlic,” she says to her fish.

“For a girl who was worried about the worms and minnows, that’s awfully mean.” I bend down, releasing the smaller fish back into the water.

“Did you have another recipe in mind?” she asks innocently.

“Hold it up. Let me snap a picture for Vince.” She flashes a wide smile and then makes a kissy face at the fish.

After I fire the pics off to her brother, I stuff my phone in my pocket. Bree pushes the fish in my direction.

“Seriously? You still won’t take your own fish off the hook?”

“Hell no. Hurry up. Let’s catch another one. Otherwise you’re going to starve tonight.”

“Yours is big enough for two,” I point out.

She gives me an exaggerated head shake and her shoulders jiggle with laughter. “I’m not sharing.”

“Ingrate,” I mutter, wriggling the hook out of the fish’s mouth and slipping it into the cooler. As I stand up, Bree surprises me by pressing her body up against mine and wrapping her arms around my waist. Her cheek rests against my chest. “Thank you for today.” She tips her head up and smiles so sweetly, I can’t help but kiss her.

Is it the curve of her full, pink lips that invites me to take a taste, or something else? Doesn’t matter. The urge overwhelms me. I cradle her jaw with one hand and capture her mouth with a gentle kiss. It’s soft and tender at first.

How had I never noticed how perfectly we fit together? Her smaller, softer body conforms to every hard and hot part of mine.

She pulls back, staring up at me. “I think you got fish scales on my cheek,” she whispers.

I touch my forehead to hers and breathe out, “Sorry.”

She reaches up, and I meet her halfway. Once again the dizzying sweetness of her lips on mine. Our lips meet over and over. Simple kisses. Her fingers dig into my shoulders as she tries to get closer. My hands drop to her hips, pulling her in tight.

Her lips part and I stroke my tongue against hers. She tastes sweet, like chocolate and cinnamon.

For the rest of my life those will be my favorite flavors.

She moans into my mouth and I open my eyes briefly.

Whether it’s from the heat or activity, some of her makeup has smudged, leaving the bluish-green bruising visible this close up.

What the fuck am I doing?

I squeeze her hips and gently push her back. “Stop, Bree. Baby, stop.” My voice is so hoarse I barely recognize it.

She blinks up at me.

I don’t let go of my hold on her hips. My thumb sweeps under the hem of her shirt, brushing warm, bare skin.

Her big blue eyes pin me in place and she opens her mouth, but no words come out.

Rocks tumbling down the hill and the snick-snick of snapping twigs enters my consciousness. Stuck in this moment with Bree, I don’t recognize what those sounds mean until someone clears their throat.

Tamping down a string of curses, I pull away from Bree. Disappointment, then embarrassment, passes over her face.

I turn to find a DEC officer behind us. “Can I help you?” I ask in the gruffest tone I can call up.

The guy isn’t deterred. He doesn’t blink, apologize, or acknowledge what he interrupted. Another offi

cer stumbles down the rocky incline, landing next to his partner. “We’re checking fishing licenses today, sir,” the first officer says.

Silently, I’m cursing the intrusion, but I yank my wallet out and hand over both our licenses. One of the officers accepts the documents while the other one circles around our cooler.

“Care to open this for me, sir? We need to check—”

“Yeah. Here,” I say, cutting him off, while leaning over to flip the lid open.

“Nice Rainbow Trout. Probably a trophy.”

“My friend caught it,” I say, nodding at Bree. So far she hasn’t uttered a word or moved from my side. I’ll admit, I like having her up against me. Especially when the officer spends a little too much time running his gaze over her legs.

My arm tightens around her waist, making it clear who she belongs to.

Hoping to move them along, I accidentally flash my badge when the officer hands our papers back.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize—”

“No problem.”

Mercifully, the officers finally leave. Bree moves away, picking up our stuff.

“Bree?”

“That’s never happened before.”

The kiss or the license check?

“They’re always patrolling around here,” I answer.

She nods and walks to the water’s edge to pick up the dropped pole.

Shit, I’m not sure what to do here. Every instinct says to spin her around and kiss her some more. But she’s obviously uncomfortable.

I made her uncomfortable.

I did the right thing, stopping the kiss. In the future I’ll need to be more careful around her.

Today was supposed to be about her relaxing and having fun, not getting mauled by me, and I fucked it up.

I can’t let that happen again.

My lips still tingling from our kiss, I can’t concentrate on the fishing pole in my hands.

Liam kissed me!

The scent of fish still lingers from where he touched my cheek and I inhale deeply, remembering how it felt to have his fingers pressed against my face. His mouth on mine.

“Hey, the bait doesn’t seem to be working anymore. Want to switch to lures?” Liam asks, pulling me out of my fish-scented daydreams.

I force a smile onto my lips. “Sure.”


Tags: Autumn Jones Lake Romance