The Bears of Blackrock, Books 1 - 3: The Fenn Clan (45 page)

Maynard Talbot had already been discharged.

“Just go down to her house, jackass. Why are you being such a pussy?” John had said by the fifth day.

Because he didn’t want to feel the way he felt standing in Carissa’s parking lot, staring up at the brick building for the last time. He’d come home to Carissa’s house every day for months, bracing for the rejection that would come the minute he walked through the door. Carissa would look at him with an air of almost half disdain, like his mere presence was an affliction. He didn’t want to see that look in Maggie’s eyes. The last time she’d set her eyes on him – really looked at him – she’d been digging her nails into his chest, pouring affection and lust for him in every breath.

Had he been wrong again? He’d been fooled into thinking Carissa might be his great love, but even in those early days, Carissa never felt anything like that night with Maggie. Nothing felt like his abject determination to be there for her, to protect her.

And yet, she’d disappeared.

“If she wanted to see me, she would have by now. Wouldn’t she?” Deacon asked in response. John didn’t press. He’d had a whirlwind love affair with his wife Catherine, going from a passing encounter to living together within a week. Deacon thought that a bit fast, but seeing them almost two years on and still fawning over each other, Deacon couldn’t argue with his brother’s choice of mate.

“When you know, you know,” he’d said.

Yeah, but what if what you know is wrong? What if the one you feel called to doesn’t feel called back?

“Then she isn’t it,” John said.

Deacon hauled through Massachusetts and New Hampshire, crossing the familiar Piscataqua River Bridge on the border of Maine by two in the afternoon. He’d be home for supper at this rate.

It was two weeks since he’d last seen Maggie. Two weeks of hearing unsolicited advice from John, two weeks of catching Bennett Calhoun eyeing his cousin Gracie when they had breakfast together. Two weeks of going on calls out near the rez and silently praying that Maggie was safe, that this time it wouldn’t be her he was called to save.

Or perhaps hoping it would be.

He just wanted to see her again.

The sky was almost full dark by the time he reached Blackrock, and the familiar chore of opening the Fenn gate felt like a nail in a coffin. It was good to be home, surely, but when home is behind a gate that stands just yards from the road to the woman you can’t stop thinking about?

Not so much.

Deacon pulled down the dirt road, everything he’d cared enough about to take to Boston rustling in the back of the car. He plowed over old frost heaves and pot holes. He caught sight of his porch up ahead and sighed. Maybe his shit could survive a night in the cold of the car. Maybe he could chuck it all by the roadside and forget any of it existed.

Maybe he needed to cheer the hell up.

Deacon pulled into his driveway and got out of the car. The smell of her hit him like a baseball bat to the skull.

He turned toward the porch. The dark head was almost invisible under the porch awning, but there she was, sitting in his rocking chair, watching him.

He approached the porch steps, but didn’t speak.

Maggie sat forward, her dark eyes glinting even in the dark. “You never called.”

Deacon’s eyes went wide. “Neither did you.”

He made his way up onto the porch, coming to stand at his front door as he waited for further word from her.

“I know. I’m sorry.” She sat there a long while, staring off into the dark. “Do you want me to go?”

“No!” Deacon said and cringed. He’d sounded a bit more adamant than he intended. “Sorry, I mean no. I don’t want you to go. Do you want to come in?”

Maggie seemed to contemplate this a moment, but finally stood from her seat and came to join him by the door. He felt the smell of her envelope him and had to fight not to close his eyes and relish in it. God, how could someone have such power over him?

“You smell like a woman.”

“What?” He asked, startled.

“You. You smell like you’ve been close to another woman. Are you and Carissa getting back together?”

Deacon looked down at himself. He’d been oblivious to her scent on him. It wasn’t sexual, by any means, but it was permeated into everything he owned in that Boston apartment, and that subtle note clung to him and his car like a beetle.

She spoke in a calm way. It wasn’t accusatory or suspicious; it was simply a declaration of fact; a simple question.

“No. I went to pick up my stuff from Carissa’s place this morning. I think she sprayed everything I own with Sunflowers perfume.”

“You picked up your stuff?”

Deacon nodded. “Yeah. Officially moved out.”

Maggie searched his face a long while. “Are you gonna invite me in?”

Deacon fumbled with the keys, finally getting the door open and holding it aside for her to enter. She walked into the place with slow deliberation, as though taking in every detail anew.

Again they stood in each other’s presence, a heavy silence between them. He began to wonder why she’d come at all.

Deacon made his way into the kitchen finally. “Do you want something to drink, or eat? I haven’t had supper yet, if you’re hungry.”

“Is it over?”

Deacon stopped. “What?”

“Between you and Carissa? Is it over?”

He turned to face her, taking a deep breath. “Honestly, I don’t think it ever really began.”

Maggie nodded, touching her hand to the counter where Deacon had first had his way with her. She stared at the place as though she too was thinking of that very thing. “I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

Deacon deflated instantly. “It’s alright. I imagine you had a lot going on.”

Maggie chuckled. “You have no idea. You can’t imagine the bureaucracy of beating a chief of a god damn bear clan when you’re not a bear.”

“No, I imagine I can’t. Is your dad alright? Are you safe now?”

“I am. They’ve named Uncle Paul the new chief. Richard has been exiled from the rez.”

“Has he really?”

She nodded. “Don’t feel bad. I’m sure he’ll find someone else to boss around.”

Deacon snorted in a half laugh. “Believe me, no part of me feels bad. Well, I’m just glad you’re safe.”

“Is there something here? Or am I going crazy?”

He froze in the wake of her question. She’d turn the conversation with such purpose, it almost knocked him over.

“What?”

Is there something here? Yes! God, yes, he thought.

Words almost poured from his lips - Yes, do you really need to ask? I’m in love with you!

He didn’t say a single one of these words.

“I’ve been having – I’ve had -” She paused, fidgeting by the kitchen counter. “I’ve been thinking about you – a lot. And I don’t know what to do with these feelings.”

He moved toward her, his hand out to her. “I’ve been thinking about you, too.”

She stopped him, shaking her head. “You say that, but – I mean you just now got back from picking up your stuff from another woman’s house -”

“So what?”

“So? How do I know it’s me you’re thinking about instead of just trying
not
to think about her?”

“Maggie, I cared for Carissa very much, but I – God, I fucking admit it, I never felt for her the way I do about you.”

She stared at him a moment. “How can you be sure?”

“How can I be -?” He stopped a moment, searching, then threw up his hands in sarcastic exasperation. “Well, I don’t know. She tried to fuck me this morning.”

“What?!”

Maggie’s tone had gone someplace dark. He paused, letting himself smile in response. Seeing her jealous like that somehow made him feel good, made him feel claimed. He liked it.

“She did. Tried a ‘one last time for the road’ break up sex kind of thing. I said no. Said no because even though I was pretty sure you were never going to speak to me again, I couldn’t imagine touching anyone else.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“No, I’m fucking not, Maggie. Jesus, why are you even here if you won’t believe me?”

“I don’t know!”

“If you didn’t think I wanted you here – if you didn’t know full well that I’ve been head over heels for you since the first time I laid eyes on you, then why are you fucking here?”

Maggie clenched her fists. “Because I couldn’t stay away.”

He deflated for an instant. “Then what’s the problem?”

She threw up her hands. “Because I’m afraid you’re going to regret this!”

“What?”

“If we get involved – if we actually do let something happen. I’m afraid you’ll come to regret it someday.”

He stared at her. “How can you say that?”

“What if we do this? What if we dive in and just fall – what if we fall in love with one another?”

“You think I’ll regret falling in love with you? Why? Are you going to break my heart?”

“Never.”

“Then what the fuck are you talking about?”

She turned her eyes to the floor, fighting to keep her lip from trembling. “I can’t give you what you want.”

“What the hell do you mean?”

She exhaled, her breath shaking as she did. “I’ve never wished I was just normal more than I have since I met you.”

“Why?”

“Because if I was normal, at least there would be some chance that I could give you what you want – there’d be a chance our children would be like you.”

Deacon’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s not -”

“But with me as I am – if you fall in love with me, you’ll never get to have that. If I let this happen, I could be taking that from you forever, and I don’t want to do that to you!”

“I wasn’t the one with that want.”

“You say that now, but years from now – what if you regret it? What if this is all just some rebound bull shit and months down the line – or worse, years - you look at me or at our kids and you think -” She stopped, unable to keep going as she fought to still her tears. Realization struck him suddenly and he ached to go to her. She feared he’d look at their children the way her mother once looked at her. His heart broke so swiftly, it almost took his breath away.

He paused, unable to stay away from her any longer. He took another step toward her. “Maggie, you are what I want. You and everything that comes with you.”

Maggie stared at him. “Don’t say that if you don’t mean it. You’re just coming out of a relationship. You could be wounded and rebounding on me, and I could get
so
hurt -” Her voice cracked and it felt brutal to hear. “If you say you want me, I have to know you mean it.”

“Oh, I mean it. I’m head over heels, Mag. Honestly, it scares the shit out of me.”

“It scares me, too.”

He stopped, saddened. “Well, I don’t mean to scare you -”

“That’s not what I meant!”

She stepped forward, her voice wavering as she spoke, and she took hold of his face in her hands and kissed him. His insides ruptured like some volcanic event. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to him and squeezing so tight, she groaned. He didn’t stop. Somehow in that instant of touch, the two weeks he’d spent away from her felt like an eternity, and this kiss felt like the reprieve of a pardoned man. He pulled her against him, fighting to be as close as he could, and press himself to every inch of her, as though they might become one thing.

She broke from the kiss just enough to look at him. “Tell me you’re sure this is what you want. Tell me you’re ready and I’ll believe you.”

Ready. Ready to feel what he felt. Ready to give himself to a woman without fear of disappointment, of feeling unloved in a week, a month, a year.

He looked into Maggie’s eyes and ached to say the thing that was roaring in his chest – he was sure, and he’d never been so sure of anything in his life.

“I’m ready, Maggie. I’ve been waiting for you my whole life -” He froze, realizing that despite his stoic nature, he’d blurted out more truth than he’d intended. He swallowed. He felt almost freed by it. “I’m yours if you’ll have me.”

She smiled, her eyes welling over as she wrapped her arms around his neck, lifting herself to kiss him. He lifted her into his arms, pulling her legs around him to carry her down the hall and into the bedroom.

She pulled from him, making him set her back down. Deacon stopped and watched her expression. “What’s wrong?”

She swallowed. “Nothing, but -” She turned, glancing around the house as though the entire place might be watching them. She pulled away from him, coming to stand just inches away. “Will you – can we go slow?”

He exhaled, half disappointed. He took a deep breath. “Of course, if you’d rather we not -”

“No, no. I want you to shag my freakin brains out, but just - everything else.”

He laughed, nodding. “What do you mean? Like I take you out to dinner and shit like that?”

“Yeah, and shit like that.”