I couldn’t breathe. Pain radiated in hot, sharp pulses from my ribs throughout my entire body. My fingernails clawed at the carpet as I tried to roll into the fetal position but my hips were pinned. Anton loomed above me, his legs straddling my hips and trapping me on the floor.
“You’re fucking dead,” he sneered. “I’ll make you pay for playing me. Did you think I wouldn’t find out that you’re a reporter? That you’ve been digging around my office at night?”
“Anton—” But before I could plead for my life, his fist connected with my already-throbbing cheek. My vision turned white. My mouth hung open but the pain was too much for me to even scream.
“You’re nothing but a whore. I’ll show you how I treat whores.”
“No!” The word screamed in my head but nothing came out of my mouth. Anton’s hand had clamped around my throat again, rendering me mute and panicked for air. Things started to blur, his face, the ceiling above him, the couch at my side. But just before the world faded to black, he let me go. My lungs burned as I gulped for air. My voice started to work again and I let out a raspy plea for help.
He stopped my scream with a sharp backhand to my jaw before standing to unbuckle his belt.
Two strong hands shook me awake. “Sabrina, wake up.”
My eyes snapped open. Beau loomed above me, his eyes full of concern. I pushed up off my cot and swiped sticky hair off my forehead. My heart was pounding and my chest heaved with panicked breaths.
Another nightmare.
I’d been having them all week, ever since the afternoon I’d looked up Anton’s social-media accounts and seen my picture with its phony caption. Any time I tried to sleep, I fell back into the same dream.
“Sorry,” I panted, breathing deeply to slow my racing heart.
“Don’t be sorry. Same nightmare?”
I nodded.
After my third night of waking up shouting and drenched with sweat, Beau had refused to let me brush it off as just a bad dream. He’d sat with me on my cot and demanded I spill.
And spill I had. He’d gotten it all, more than I’d confessed even to Felicity. It wasn’t that I’d purposefully kept pieces from her, but I remembered more now than when I’d first arrived in Montana. The nightmares brought it all back in vivid detail. Every hit. Every slap. Every one of Anton’s words. Beau heard it all.
When I’d told him about Anton’s plan to rape me, he’d gotten so mad that he’d had to go outside in the dark and chop wood until well after sunrise.
“I think I’m going to take a shower.” It was still dark but sleep after my nightmare was impossible.
“Okay.” Beau stood first and helped me to my feet.
I shuffled to the bathroom and cranked up the water to scalding. When it turned cold, I stepped out and tossed on a fresh pair of pajama shorts and a thin camisole. I wouldn’t be going back to bed but at least it was comfortable.
My arms felt heavy as I combed out my hair. Exhaustion had settled into my bones and I was basically a zombie, too scared to drift off, so I’d been forcing myself to stay awake. The instant coffee that should have lasted Beau and I a month was now almost gone.
With my hair hanging damp down my back, I stepped out of the bathroom on tiptoe, hoping that Beau had been able to go back to sleep. My feet froze at what had happened to the living area while I’d been in the shower. My sleeping bag was no longer on my cot but instead spread out full on the floor. Beau’s had been unzipped and then reconnected to mine, making one large bed.
“What’s going on?”
Beau held out a hand. “Come here.”
I took a hesitant step and laid my hand in his. Beau was only wearing a pair of dark gray boxer briefs and a T-shirt, his normal bedtime attire, but his expression said this wasn’t about sex. His eyes were full of worry and there wasn’t a flicker of lust in sight.
He led me to the bed and kneeled down, tugging me to the floor. Then settling on his back, he patted the spot next to him.
“Beau, I’m not going to be able to sleep.”
“Well, you’re going to try. You’re dead on your feet, and if you don’t get some rest, you’re going to wear yourself too thin.”
I shook my head. “I don’t want to.” Anton’s voice was still in my ears. Another nightmare would be too much for me to cope with tonight.
“Trust me. Please?” he asked. “I’ve got you.”
His words melted my resolve and I slid into the warm pocket. One of his arms curled under my neck as the other twisted me into his chest. With my face tucked into his shoulder and my arms pinned between us, I was securely locked in his embrace.
“Try to relax,” he whispered into my hair.
“Okay.” It took me a few moments, but soon the tension in my muscles melted away. The fretting thoughts vanished and an epiphany sparked to life.
No man would ever hold me this well.
I was made to be wrapped in these arms.
A woman could tell a lot by the way a man holds her. She could tell if he had the strength to endure the rougher moments. If he had a mighty yet kind heart. If he could make her feel safe and cherished.
Beau’s embrace said all that and more.
He knew I was having a tough time, but instead of picking me up and taking the burden, he was just giving me the support to beat it back myself. He was propping me up. I didn’t need or want a man to fight my battles for me, even if they were against the demons in my mind. I wanted a man who would hold my hand, squeezing it every now and again so I knew I wasn’t alone as I waged my own war. I wanted a man who would push me to keep battling because he knew I’d eventually win.
Being held in Beau’s strong arms was exactly what I had needed. This time, when Anton crept into my sleep and the nightmare began, I wouldn’t be alone as I fought to push him away.
I doubted I’d ever find such a perfect embrace again.
“Sleep,” Beau whispered into my hair.
And, for the first time in a week, I did just that.
I’d been sleeping in Beau’s embrace for the past six nights and not once had Anton revisited my dreams. Just like this morning, I woke peacefully to warm arms wrapped around my back and Beau’s heartbeat vibrating against my cheek.
“Good morning,” he rumbled to the top of my head.
I rolled away and stretched in the sleeping bag bed. “Morning.”
Boone’s toenails clicked on the floor and I slapped my hands over my face before his wet nose could touch my mouth.
“Boone, get out of here,” Beau said.
“He’s okay.” I giggled and sat up, reaching out to rub Boone’s floppy ears. I was holding fast to my stance that I wasn’t a pet person, but as with most rules, there were some exceptions. Boone was mine. His fur was soft and he didn’t shed that much. He was affectionate, and much like his master, he was a calming presence in my mixed-up world.
“I’m going to shower.” Beau stood from the floor and walked away as I continued to pet Boone.
Since it would be a crime not to take a moment and appreciate his sexy, rounded butt clad only in his underwear, I snuck a peek before he disappeared into the bathroom. A trail of shivers ran down my back before I stood and started rolling up the bed.
Our bed.
Beau and I were absolutely playing house.
We’d work together outside during the day before returning to the outpost to cook dinner in the tiny kitchen. After eating, we’d spend our evenings in front of the fire, playing gin rummy or cribbage. Then he’d set up our bed and tuck me into his chest, and we’d both fall asleep, unmoving until morning.
Like newlyweds, we were spending as much time with one another as we could, but without the sex. That was still a no-go area.
Had my attraction for Beau faded? Not in the slightest and it was a bit unnerving. I’d never been in this situation before. The longest I’d ever felt attracted to a man had been two weeks. This week marked three at the outpost, and I was still burning hotter than ever.
I knew Beau was still feeling it too. There was a reason he always took the first shower, that being the mammoth appendage poking me in the hip every morning.
Damn these circumstances.
In a different setting, a different time, Beau would be perfect lover material. I liked him. I couldn’t remember the last time I liked a guy this much. His steady personality was tugging at my heart strings, his dry sense of humor matched my own and his playful teasing had me smiling more often than not. My body crackled when it was near his and I had no doubts that sex with him would knock my socks off.
If only I had met him before Anton and my story. If only he weren’t so attached to Montana. If only I weren’t so attached to the city.
If only Beau weren’t going back to his life in Prescott today.
“Are you going to miss me, Boone?”
He wagged his tail and turned to the door.
I guess not.
“I’m done.” Beau emerged from the bathroom, towel drying his hair. My mouth watered at the sight of him barefoot in jeans and a simple black T-shirt.
I stepped past him, our arms brushing, and quickly shut the bathroom door so he wouldn’t see my blushing cheeks.
Damn those crackles.
It was probably good he was leaving. The longer he stayed, the more likely we’d be to slip up and give into this chemistry, and I needed Beau as a friend more than a lover right now.
When I came out of the bathroom twenty minutes later, all the good flutters in my belly had been replaced with the bad. Beau was kneeling next to his duffel bag, packing up to leave for town. His shoes were no longer laid out next to mine and he’d already taken out the empty cooler we’d been using as a dining room table.
“Do you have laundry you’d like me to take?” he asked.
I nodded and went to my bag sitting next to his. “I’m not sure how much to send. When do you think you’ll be back?” Say tomorrow.
“A week.”
My shoulders fell. The last time I’d felt this much anxiety about an upcoming week had been after high school when I’d left Florida to drive across the country to Seattle.
“Hey.” His hand gently rubbed my back. “You’ll be fine.”
“Sure.” My outward confidence betrayed my inner feelings but I didn’t want Beau to know how much I was dreading this week. Not only would my nightmares likely return but I was also bound to get miserably bored again. If Beau knew that I was freaking out, he wouldn’t leave.
And he needed to leave.
He needed to go back to his life and his responsibilities. I’d taken up enough of his time, and besides that, I was desperate for more coffee. I was running low on food. I wanted clothes that had been cleaned in a washing machine, not the bathroom sink.
And we needed to put some space between us. I needed some time to remind myself that a friendship with Beau was as much of a relationship as we’d ever have. Maybe by the time he came back, I wouldn’t find him so devastatingly handsome.
Now you’re just kidding yourself.
“Do you want me to bring you back anything special?” he asked, taking my laundry and stuffing it in his duffel.
“Hmm.” I tapped my chin. “A couch would be nice. Maybe a big screen and some chick flicks. I’d love a coffee machine too.”
He laughed and I couldn’t help but smile back.
Ever since our walk in the meadow, I’d made it my goal to do something to make him laugh every day. Beau had an amazing sense of humor, and he laughed often, but it sounded even better when I was the catalyst. The sound of his laughter was a balm to my broken spirit.
I was going to really miss hearing that laugh every day.
“Will you check in with Felicity?” I asked after he had loaded up the truck.
“Yep. Boone,” he called and the dog came bounding inside. “Stay.”
“Are you sure?” I asked. “I’ll be fine if you want to take him back home with you.”
“I’m sure.” He reached out and ran his thumb across my jaw. “He’ll be okay here. And so will you.”
I wish I were as sure.
“We’ll be great,” I lied, willing my voice not to crack as I said good-bye.
He pulled on his sunglasses and a hunter-green baseball hat before striding out the door. I stood in the doorway, Boone at my feet, and waved as his truck backed away from the outpost and disappeared down the two-lane road.
His tires crunched on the small rocks in the dirt road. The sound of my crumbling spirits sounded much the same.
“Just you and me, Boone,” I said as Beau’s truck disappeared from my sight. “Alone. Are you going to cook me those fancy scrambled eggs? Or teach me how to play poker? Or make me feel like I haven’t ruined my entire life?”
No, he wasn’t. The only person in the world that could do those things was driving away. I was alone in this silent forest. I was a hopeless city girl stranded in the middle of the mountains with nothing but my regrets.
I let out a strangled cry when the sound of Beau’s diesel engine no longer hummed against the trees in the distance. That pained sound preceded a flood of tears and uncontrollable, gut-wrenching sobs. For the first time since Anton’s attack, I let myself cry. Really cry. Face-twisting, snot-smearing, ugly-wailing cry.
When the pain in my ribs was too much to bear standing, I crossed the room and curled up on my cot. Now that Beau was gone, I realized that he’d been the one keeping the gray fog of depression away. With him here, I had convinced myself that the aftershocks of my story had been worth it.
The truth was that I had been reckless. I had been blinded by the allure of heroics.
But I wasn’t a hero.
I was a fool.
“What. The. Fuck.”
Splendid. My imagination was now conjuring up Beau’s voice. Depression had turned into delusion.
“Sabrina.”
Couldn’t I have conjured up a happy Beau?
Boone barked and abandoned the spot by my cot where he’d been keeping me company for the past four days. He’d been jumpy and excited for the last few minutes so I’d covered my head with a pillow and ignored him. I guess he was getting sick of me just lying around. Whatever. It wasn’t like he couldn’t come and go as he pleased. The door was cracked open so I wouldn’t have to get out of bed during the day. What was he barking about?
I pulled the corners of the pillow tighter and shoved my nose into my sleeping bag mattress. The dog could pester me all he wanted. I wasn’t getting up until after dark and that was only to close the door so no other creatures would come in for a visit.
Another bark and I’d just about had it. What was wrong with this dog? Couldn’t he leave me to my wallowing in peace?
“Sabrina.” And Beau’s voice wouldn’t leave me alone either. No more barking. No more angry voices. I needed quiet so I could relish in my misery.
I tugged the pillow down further but it was yanked from my hands. I gasped and turned, only to see two beefy legs planted next to my cot. My eyes traveled up the denim thighs, the narrow hips, the flat stomach and wide chest to the scowl waiting at the top.
Well, at least I hadn’t gone totally fucking bonkers.
“What. The. Fuck,” Beau repeated.
“Huh?”
“You heard me. What the fuck? I see you haven’t bothered to change since I left and I’m guessing from all these wrappers on the floor that you haven’t eaten much either. What is going on? You’re a wreck.”
“Nice,” I deadpanned. “Just what a woman wants to hear. Now give me back my pillow.” I tried to swipe it out of his hands but he held it up too high for me to reach. “Argh! What are you even doing here? I still have three days until I have to fake happy.” I got up on my knees and went for the pillow again but he tossed it across the room.
“What’s going on?” His tone had completely shifted from hard and terse to soft and concerned.
My body sagged. “I’m bummed out, okay? I’ve got a lot going on in my head and I just needed to wallow for a while. There’s nothing you can do but just let me be.”
He considered my words for a minute. “Bullshit.”
“What?” My spine snapped straight. “You don’t get to say bulls—”
His arms banded around my back and he hauled me off the cot.
Hell no. I did not like to be hauled around, not even for sex.
“Put me down!” I shrieked into his face.
“No.”
I started squirming and kicking but he was too strong. “Beau, I mean it. Put me down.”
His response was a growl and a tighter grip. He carried me into the bathroom and turned on the shower.
“What are you doing?” I yelled.
“You need to wallow? Do that in here.” He set me down, fully clothed, under the cold spray.
“It’s cold!” I screamed but he ignored me, closing the shower curtain, stomping out of the bathroom and slamming the bathroom door behind him.
“I cannot believe he did that.” With gritted teeth, I stripped off my drenched clothes as the water started to warm up. I took out my frustration on my hair and skin, scrubbing and lathering with vengeance.
I was in the middle of my second shampoo when the bathroom door clicked open and then closed again. When I stepped out of the shower, clean laundry and a hair dryer were sitting on the counter.
Curses. It was going to be really tough to stay mad when he’d brought me the one beauty tool I coveted more than any other.
I got dressed, dried my hair, and by the time I emerged from the steamy bathroom, my temper had fizzled. Four days had been much too long without a shower and I was glad Beau had forced me to get up. Something I would never admit out loud, obviously, but I would apologize for yelling at him.
“Hey. Sorry I was a bi—” I stopped short when I saw what he was doing in the kitchen. “You brought me a coffee machine?”
He shrugged. “A couch was too big.”
And with that, all residual anger vanished. “I’m sorry for yelling at you.”
He grinned. “Don’t worry about it. Sorry for throwing you in the shower.”
“I needed one.” So much for keeping that tidbit to myself.
“So, are you done pouting?”
“What? I wasn’t pouting,” I said defensively. “Sometimes I just get sad and it takes a while to work itself out.”
“You were pouting, Sabrina. Just like that first week we were here and you were avoiding me.”
“I think I’m more qualified to evaluate my mental state than you are, Beau.”
“Oh, I’m plenty qualified. I told you already, I’ve got a damn accurate read on you. You were moping around. I’m not saying you haven’t been through some shit, but last week you were perfectly content. I leave and you go back to pouting.”
“I have gone through some ‘shit,’ ” I snapped. “So let me deal with it in whatever way I need. If that means ‘moping around,’ then that’s what I’m going to do.”
“Stop with the air quotes and calm the hell down.”
My blood pressure skyrocketed again, but before I could open my mouth to kick his ass back to Prescott, he picked me up and set me on the kitchen counter.
“I’ve had quite enough of your manhandling.” My pointed finger didn’t faze him a bit.
He just pulled it down and trapped it on the counter under his big mitt. “Do you think Maisy wasn’t depressed after all that shit went down with Coby’s dad?” His question stunned me into silence. “She went through a really difficult period and we all took care to respect the way she needed to come to grips with it all. She needed to be handled gently. You don’t.”
That hurt. My situation wasn’t nearly as difficult as Maisy’s must have been but that didn’t mean I wasn’t reeling from all of the sudden changes to my life.
He noticed the pained expression on my face and stepped closer, moving right into my space and stroking down the sides of my arms. “You’ve got grit. I’ve seen it. I’m not making light of what you’ve got going on. You’ve had a difficult month and I understand that. But sometimes even the toughest people need a kick in the ass to snap themselves into a better place.”
I searched his eyes for any hint of exaggeration but they were pure and honest. His faith in me was humbling. “You’re giving me too much credit.”
“You’re not giving yourself enough.”
“Okay. I’m done pouting now,” I whispered.
He chuckled and moved his hands to my face, leaning in to brush his soft, full, pink lips against my forehead.
Oh, boy. I was so smitten with this man.
“How long do you get to stay?” I hoped the change of topic would help me resist the urge to lean into Beau’s space and test those lips against my own.
“Just until tomorrow. Things are a wreck at work so I need to get back but I didn’t want you to wait a whole week for supplies.”
“I’m glad to have you back. I’ll help you unload the truck.”
He stared at me for a long moment, still sharing my space. “We’re good?”
I nodded. “We’re good.”
He squeezed my arms one last time before turning to leave. He’d been back for no more than an hour and I felt like a new woman. He had done the right thing, giving me that figurative kick in the ass. No one had ever done that for me before.
My parents would cater to my bad moods, fussing and fawning over me until I snapped myself out of the funk. Even Felicity had tended to indulge my sad days when we’d been roommates. She’d bring me chocolate and paint my nails until I was ready to get out of bed and go to class or work.
Beau did have a good read on me. Maybe better than I had on myself.
“Beau?” I called from the counter before he could step outside. “Thanks. Most people tend to avoid me when I get blue.”
“You’re welcome. Does it happen a lot?”
“Not so much anymore.” I took a deep breath, summoning the strength to tell him something that I had only confessed to a few people. “I went through a tough time after Janessa committed suicide. She was my best friend in high school.”
That got his attention. “What?”
“She died when we were sixteen.”
“Shit. I’m sorry.” He came back inside and stood beside me, his hip brushing my knee.
“Me too.” I gave him a sad smile. “My parents and brothers didn’t really know how to deal with me back then. I was sad and angry most of the time, lashing out at them and my teachers when I wasn’t curled up in bed crying. They finally took me to a therapist so I had someone impartial to talk to.”
My therapist had helped me through the darkest time in my young life. She’d given me permission to grieve and feel sad, but she’d also taught me that life goes on and I had to put a time limit on wallowing.
“It wasn’t until after college that I realized there wasn’t anything I could have done for Janessa. But the sad times, they still happen. When they do, I revert back to some of those old habits. I let the sad run its course, then put it in the past.”
“Fuck me.” He rubbed a hand over his beard. “I didn’t know. I shouldn’t have—”
“No, trust me. You did the right thing.”
“Really? Then why do I feel like such a prick right now?”
I smiled. “Don’t feel bad. Wallowing wasn’t helping me. I’ve been using a coping mechanism that was appropriate for a sixteen-year-old girl, not a thirty-four-year-old woman. You were right. I was moping around and feeling sorry for myself. It was time to get up. Please don’t feel bad. I’m just telling you all this because . . . well, I felt safe telling you.”
He threw an arm around my shoulders. “You can tell me anything.”
Of that, I had no doubt.