It was a ballsy question asked with her typical Elsie Garrett bravado. But there was an underlying vulnerability to it that killed him.
“I don’t know what I want,” he said, his words rough as gravel.
“I guess that makes two of us.”
“But I do know that I think it’s pretty damned absurd that you’ve got me punching walls.”
“The entire thing is absurd,” she said. “And you said it yourself. There’s nothing anyone can do about it. There’s no damned point. To any of it.”
“You were here to pick up Travis.” It came out as an accusation. It came out sounding...hurt, and he hated that.
“I wasn’t going to go home with him,” she whispered, leveling her gaze at him.
“Good.”
He let go of her and looked down at his bleeding hand. And it was like he was really seeing himself for the first time. Bloody knuckles, completely at the end of his sanity.
He must look unhinged. He felt unhinged.
And for what? Why intentionally tempt fate, the devil and all manner of sin and terrible ideas?
Why was he doing this to her?
To them?
He had no idea. He just knew that he hadn’t been able to stop himself.
Then he turned and walked out of the bar. Let the door swing closed behind him. He braced his hands on his knees and bent over for a second, trying to catch his breath.
He wasn’t terribly surprised when he heard the door open, and heard angry footsteps following along behind him.
He straightened and turned around, faced with Elsie in all her fury.
“What am I supposed to do with that?” she asked.
“Like you said,” he returned, “there’s nothing to do with it. There is nothing for either of us to do with any of this.”
“What is it?”
And she was so honest, so pure, and he could barely stand it.
It was all already ruined, that was the problem. They were out in the parking lot at Smokey’s, where every damned person inside knew them. They were shredded. Him literally. Bleeding onto the asphalt because of this.
It was broken already.
There was no stopping it.
And the last sane thought in his head—as he closed the distance between Elsie and him—was that he never should’ve come back in this bar.
And that it wasn’t too late to leave.
But he didn’t listen to himself.
Instead, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her up against his body, and before he could think about what he was doing, before he could think about anything, he lowered his head and kissed Elsie Garrett right there in the parking lot.
CHAPTER TWELVE
SHE WAS DYING. Or something. She was floating underwater, and flying through space, and also somehow more in her body than she had ever been. Breathless, weightless, wondrous.
It was nothing like she had imagined. It was so much more physical. His whiskers were rough, his hold was tight, and she felt every bit of the hard work that he did in his strength. In his lips. His mouth was hot, and it made her hot all the way down. Made her stomach feel tight, and also like it was in a freefall. Then he angled his head, forcing her lips apart and sliding his tongue into her mouth, and she gasped, flinging her arms on top of his shoulders to steady herself, to keep herself from melting. From falling to the ground. She was so close. So very close. She had never felt so protected and so...so perilously close to perishing all at once.
And she was now. Every bit of her.
She felt like she had been lit on fire and left there to burn. Out in the open. Where everyone could see. Worst of all, where she couldn’t hide. Where she couldn’t pretend anymore that this wasn’t what was between them.
She was attracted to him.
No, that seemed weak.
She wanted him.
And it was why she hadn’t been able to look at Travis at the town hall.
Because she’d only had eyes for Hunter, and that was...impossible. Ridiculous. She couldn’t... She couldn’t want Hunter like this. Not when they were both so broken and damaged they didn’t know how to be in relationships. Not when they could destroy something brilliant and wonderful by doing this. Because Sawyer and Wolf would...
That was what made her pull away from him. She was gasping for air, her heart thundering so fast and hard she could barely breathe.
But the thought of her brothers, well, that had basically ruined everything.
“We... I...”
“Elsie—”
“Hunter,” she said, mostly because she was trying to remind herself that it was Hunter. Hunter that she had just kissed. Hunter that had just kissed her.
And she wanted to cry because this wasn’t what she wanted. This wasn’t her fantasy.
Her fantasy of being wanted. He was supposed to help her learn how to flirt. She wasn’t supposed to want something from him. It wasn’t right or fair. It wasn’t fair.
And she felt like everything that had been exposed after their time together was being reinjured. Being examined and inflamed and...
None of those words were sexy. But the problem was, this was just as painful as it was sexy.
And she realized, standing there in front of Hunter, that she’d actually never wanted a man before. She hadn’t wanted that with Travis. She’d had this vague idea of what it would be like to be kissed. What it would be like to be touched, and she had told herself that she wanted it.
But she hadn’t. Because she hadn’t really known. And now Hunter had touched her. He had touched her and he had shown her just what an idiot she was. Because this was being flayed down to the bone, and it was just a kiss.
Hunter.
Hunter McCloud had kissed her. Hunter, who she would’ve said only weeks ago was basically the most annoying person on the planet. And now she felt like her reality had been turned upside down and she didn’t know anything. About him, about herself. About the whole world.
And so, Elsie Garrett did what any self-respecting woman in her situation would do. She ran. She ran to her truck like her boots were on fire and her ass was catching.
She slammed the door and fought tears as she turned the ignition on.
And she saw that Hunter was coming after her, so she peeled out of the driveway as quickly as she could and drove away.
She was an idiot. She was a damned idiot. And she cursed herself the entire way back to Four Corners, which was the direction Hunter was also going. Or maybe... Maybe he wouldn’t go that way. Maybe he would stay at the bar. Maybe he would pick up a woman who knew what to do when a man kissed her. A woman who didn’t freak out and run off.