I take my time driving back up to my place, even when I hit the split to my private road. Claudia is quiet most of the time. She comments on the trees every now and then. I tell her it’s greener than usual thanks to all the rain we’ve been getting. It’s not raining now, but it’s due to start up again soon I tell her. Sticking to the weather and the terrain seems to be safe. When we pull up to my gate, I realize I didn’t close it when I left. I know why. I won’t beat myself up about it.

I watch Claudia out of the corner of my eye as the security lights around my property pop on. I pull my truck to a stop in its usual spot. I wait a minute, gauge her reaction.

“This is your place?”

“Yeah.”

She frowns. “I don’t remember this.”

“I’m not going to sit here and try to shock you into remembering.”

“Good call. Let’s go inside.”

I cut the engine, grab the roses out of the back seat, then meet her around the passenger side. I’m tempted to take her hand when she hops out of the cab, but I don’t. I don’t know where we are, but it’s not there.

“I remember this,” she says when she steps up on the porch. She’s looking at my front door.

“Are you okay?” I ask, but I don’t pause as I raise my keys. We don’t need to stand on my porch a second longer.

“I’m fine,” she says. “But I remember.”

I open the door and usher her inside. Titus’s head pokes up from the couch. He lets out a pathetic half bark and runs over to greet us. Claudia steps half behind me. She drops the handle on her overnight bag.

“Is he friendly?”

“Very. Just hold out your hand,” I say but Titus is already busy sniffing her thigh. She drops her fingers down and gives his head a tentative scratch.

“Hey boy.” The scratch isn’t enough. He wiggles his head under her fingers and when that isn’t enough he sets about licking her whole hand.

I fight a smile and walk into the kitchen to find a blade and a mason jar for the flowers. “Make yourself at home,” I say.

“This is a huge dog.”

“Yeah. We call him the super mutt.”

“Makes sense though. I couldn’t see you with a small dog.”

“It’s not smart to have a pet that large birds can eat out here in the woods.”

“Ah, yeah. That makes way more sense. Not much of a guard dog though, are you?”

I take out my butcher knife and cut off the bulk of the stems. When I turn around, after they are settled in their makeshift vase, Claudia is squatting on the floor rubbing Titus’s face.

“You’re just a giant baby, aren’t you,” she says in pseudo baby talk.

I stand there and look at them for a minute, until Claudia realizes I’m watching her. She stands and clears her throat. “I didn’t think this through,” she says.

“Do you want me to take you back down? I’ll take you back.”

“No,” she says, like that’s a ridiculous idea. She sighs and looks up at the beams above our heads. “I know I mentioned this in the bar, but I still don’t know how to explain it without it sounding nuts.”

“I think we’re past that. How about you just be as honest with me as you can?”

“Deal. But it goes both ways.”

I think for a second before I agree. I know whatever I have to say will definitely cut our night short, but a deal is a deal. “Fine.”

“Your house is really nice.”

“I remodeled the whole interior with my neighbor a few years ago. Did their place too.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “You have neighbors?”

“They aren’t close. Maybe two miles away on the next rise. The road forks toward their place about halfway down the mountain.”

“Oh. Well you guys did a nice job. Not that I have any clue what it looked like before.” I head over to the mantle and grab the framed photo that’s been there for as long as I can remember. I walk over to Claudia.

“This is me and my grandfather. He was showing me how to clean the fireplace.” May-Bell had taken the picture while she was standing in the kitchen. She’d captured more of the great room in its original state.

“Cute kid.”

I put the picture back in its place. I turn around and she’s still standing by the door, still in her coat. “You were saying?”

“Right. Me and my mistakes. Do you ever feel like you’re looking at two shitty options?”

“Before I answer, are we staying for a little while at least? I’d love to offer you a drink. Have a seat or something,” I know my tone sounds dickish, but it’s getting hard to stand around looking at her with so many different variables undecided.

“Yes. We’re staying.” Finally she takes off her coat and hangs it on the rack by the door. I ditch my own jacket on the back of the couch and walk into the kitchen.

“To answer your question, yes. About the shitty options. I’ve been there.”

“Right and maybe one of those options is the sane, smart option, but it comes with huge what ifs that you know will eat at you, possibly for years to come.”

“Yeah, I’ve been there before.” I grab two glasses and the pitcher of water from the fridge and bring them over to the couch. She sits down at the other end, leaving Titus plenty of room to jump up between us and make himself comfortable.

“God, he’s cuddly.”

“You can use him as an excuse to change the subject a few more times, but eventually we should really talk about this.”

“We’re talking,” she said with an offended laugh. “Anyway, Pushy. Okay. So one option, I stay home. I maybe find a new therapist. I definitely still dump my boyfriend, but I try to move on. I try to stop thinking of this hypothetical version of you I’ve created in my head based on the facts I was able to piece together after I suffered a head injury and a decent amount of blood loss. I heal?” She uses air quotes.

“What’s option two?”

“I come here.”

“And?”

“I tell you what’s been going on.”

“And you’re going to do that?”

“I guess so. We did make a deal. Okay.” She lets out a deep breath. “Option two is I come here and I tell you that I’ve been wanting to see you in this very specific, weird way. I think it's some sort of survivor’s thing. I mean I know it is. But I don't know how you enter into any interpersonal relationship that way. Like this super fucked up thing happened and we were both there. Wanna be friends?”

“You could say that. I wouldn’t think that was weird.”

Her head rolls back on the couch cushion and she glares at me.

“How did you come to your decision? This feels like option two,” I say.

“I tried option one for a couple months and it wasn’t working.”

“So you want to see if we can be friends? We can do that. What's the shitty side of that?”

“Also two-sided. I get here and you don't even live here anymore or you're like WTF bitch, leave me alone.”

I smile a little. “Well that didn't happen.”

“Right, but I haven't told you the part where I've been so fucked up that I think I've become obsessed with you. Things were so bad that sometimes I could only self comfort by thinking about you holding me.”

I swallow and look down at Titus with his head resting in Claudia’s lap. “Did you come out here because you want me to hold you?”

She sighs, loud, and runs her hand through her hair. I realize then that her bangs are covering up the massive scar that cuts close to her hair line. “Yes and no. Yes because yes, but no because I'm really afraid that something inside me is so...broken that I'll never be able to function again if you're not holding me.”

I nod. I understand. “Dependency.”

“Exactly. So seeing you, since you seem to be okay with that part, is fine. But then what happens? Did punching a tree help you? Maybe I should try that.”

“It helped for a little while.”

“Well what's your plan? How does Shep move past this?”

I pause for a moment. “I’ll...preface this with a disclaimer. I'm not trying to shock you and I'm not trying to sound cocky and I don't want you to think that I'm trying to talk down to you or impress you.”

She frowns and tilts her head a bit to the side. “Okay.”

“I have a coping mechanism and it is sexual—”

“You let a dominatrix put out cigarettes on your chest?” she says, a sarcastic smile flashing across her lips.

“No, but I do belong to a bondage club in Los Angeles. I usually go there once a year, but I was thinking about going more than once, or earlier than usual. I needed to expend this energy in a certain way. I need to be with a submissive for a longer session. I'm pretty sure that would do the trick. Though I've never been involved in a murder investigation before so...”

“Right. There's a first time for everything. So are you telling me you have scheduled sex once a year?”

“I have scheduled sex once a year for a week straight, but yes.”

Her eyes flash wide before she turns her attention back to the spot behind Titus’s ear. “Hmmm. Casual kink is a preference of mine, but I've never set foot in a club. Are you the Dominant or the submissive?”

“A Dominant.”

Another hmmm. “I'm trying to paint this fuller picture of you in my head. Do you only want to have sex once a year?”

“No, but this is a small town.”

“Ah slim pickings.”

“Possibly.”

“You're not sure?”

“I've only had one relationship with someone local. After that I didn't exactly hold interviews for a replacement. So far my system has been working.”

“Until I came along.”

“You know it isn't like that.”

“I know. I— yeah. So I want to be held and you want to dominate your submissive.”

“That's not what I said,” I snap.

Claudia’s brows pull together as she frowns at me. “Sorry. I think I heard you wrong.”

“I didn't mean to be short. I apologize.” I consider taking back our deal and taking her back down the mountain. “I don’t have a submissive. Not one that belongs to me. I have an arrangement with a submissive that I enjoy spending time with, but she's not mine. The distinction is important.”

“Do you have anger management issues?” Claudia asks.

“I spend most of my time with a dog and before that I spent more than twenty years with an old man who averaged about four sentences a week that weren't related to wilderness survival tactics. I'm not great at talking to new people.”

“So you're just a quiet, cranky, brooding mountain man?”

“Something like that.”

“I’ll rephrase. You would like a session with a submissive?”

“Not just any submissive, but yes.”

“Don’t we have a deal? You have to tell me. The whole truth. Those are the rules.”

“I've thought about dominating you.”

She looks at Titus, keeps scratching his ear. She has a decent poker face when she needs one, but I know what she's thinking.

“So we're both in danger of dependency,” I say.

“But you said you only need it once a year.”

“With someone I have no real emotional attachment to.”

“But with me it would be different.”

“You aren't the only one who's been obsessing. I mentioned that.”

“Then let's make one more deal. Tonight you hold me and then tomorrow, after I've gotten some sleep and a chance to stretch, you dominate me.”

She's almost laughing when she says it. I know she's trying to make light of the situation. I just dropped something heavy on her plate, but that's the reason why I say, “No. No deal,” immediately. “Me holding you and you submitting to me are two completely different things.” I sit up and reach for my remotes.

“Why? We’re both trying to work our way through some complex shit,” she says as I move Titus to the floor.

“Come here before he tries to climb up again,” I say.

She starts to move, then stops. “You’re going to hold me.”

“Yes.”

“Fine, whatever.” She's glaring at me again, but she slides across the couch and does the wiggling she needs to do to get comfortable against my chest. I wrap my arm around her, force myself to ignore how soft her arm is against my fingers, force myself to ignore the way her hair smells fresher than the roses she's given me. I ignore the way the simple weight of her body already makes me feel more grounded. I pull her closer and then I hand her the remotes.

“No cable, but I have every streaming app. Watch whatever you want.”

“Thanks.” She goes right for Netflix. “Not a complete mountain man, are you? I thought you were gonna teach me how to whittle wood into the shape of a deer while we stared at the fire and you told me about the old days before indoor plumbing.” She freezes then looks up at me. “Shit. You do have indoor plumbing right?”

“Yes. And I don't know how to whittle.”

“Shame.”

She can't see me, but I shake my head. I settle in for what I know is going to be a long night.

* * *

It's been a while, but I consider beating off in the woods while I'm out waiting for the sun to rise. I've been hard for almost ten hours. Claudia doesn’t want me to hold her. She wants our bodies to meld together through our clothes. At one point I give in and slide down the length of the couch so she can lie on top of me while she watches the original Parent Trap.

My cock is up the entire time, wedged against her stomach. I know she feels it but she doesn't say thing. She's asleep before the movie’s over. I stay up and see how these shitty parents decide to resolve this situation with their children, and then I pick her up and start to carry her to bed. Leaving her on the couch would defeat the purpose of her cross-country quest.

She wakes up when I’m halfway across the room and tells me she's fine to walk. She follows me into my bedroom. She peels off her skin tight jeans and does that under the shirt maneuver to remove her bra and then she's between my sheets like she belongs there.

I watch her for a few moments before she tells me to hurry up. I go brush my teeth and change into my thermals. She’s still awake when I come back, petting Titus. He’s made himself comfortable on the open side of the bed. I wrestle him to the foot and slide under the covers.

Claudia moves back into my arms. I sleep better than I have in months. I spoon her the whole night, but still I’m fucking hard the whole time. She doesn’t seem to mind that my cock is pressed up against her ass when I move to spoon her on my side.

In the morning I detach myself from her and head out to shoot. I take my shotgun and leave Titus behind to look over Claudia and the house. I get what I need, but the whole time I’m thinking about her. The simple grey panties she had on. The way her thighs feel against my legs. Fuck, the way she smells. I need to come up with a plan. I might have to kick her out of my house.

She’s awake when I walk through the door. She’s sitting on a kitchen stool having a conversation with Titus. She's wrapped herself in some patterned poncho, but she's still not wearing pants.

“Morning.”

“Good morning,” she says. I can’t read her tone. She doesn't smile when she sees me. I realize she's looking at my gun. I put it away before I join her.

“Don’t believe a word he’s saying. I fed him before I left.”

“I saw your note. Have you eaten yet?” she asks.

“A bit before I went out, but I usually eat again in an hour or so. I can cook or we can go down to the diner.”

“Can we talk first?”

“Sure.” I put my gear down on the table and join her at the island.

“I have a proposal for you and I think it might answer some questions we both have. If I’m correct, it will help us both.”

“Okay. Go ahead.”

“Well, one. Thank you for last night. Keeping my emotions in check, I’d like to say that spending that time with you was very helpful.”

“You don’t need to keep your emotions in check.”

“I get that, but I feel like after last night I realized just how not okay I am. I know I showed up here unannounced, and I spent the night without even taking into consideration that you might actually have things to do today. Or that you might be in a relationship.”

“I wouldn’t have brought you up here if that was the case, but go on. Please.”

“Still. It was nuts and rude and I’m sorry.” She closes her eyes for a second and sucks in another breath. “I was serious last night. While I am not a member of a club or a professional, I’m not completely unfamiliar with the kind of sex you were describing.” She’s speaking slowly. She’s considering every word.

“Part of the reason I broke up with my ex was because he stopped fucking me the way I liked him to. When I got back to New York he wasn’t ready for how fucked up I was. I know he was trying to be gentle with me, but even when I was perfectly healed he turned the rough sex I preferred into this slow, measured, missionary lovemaking that I’d never signed up for. I want the rough stuff back.”

My chest tightens. I fight back the frustration because she still doesn't get it, but I keep that to myself. “Okay.”

“You said you needed a week, so let me give you a week. I called my best friend. She knows I'm safe and she knows where I am.”

“Good.”

“We take that week and we see if we can give each other what we need.”

“When do you want this week to start?” I ask.

“Now.”

I consider her for a moment. Her perfect, thick, golden brown thighs peeking out from under that poncho. What I could do with my fist wrapped around that long black hair. That mouth. I could fuck that mouth while I grip her long black hair. I think about her knees and what it would be like to have those big hazel eyes staring up at me while I come on her tits.

“I also understand that you are doing the honorable thing and not trying to force your desires on me, but I think you have to respect me enough as a submissive and a woman and a human being to believe me when I say this is what I want. I want to try. If this isn't something you want, I respect that too.”

Fuck. She's got me there. I scrub my beard, then peel off my hat so I can scratch my head properly. She's looking at me. Waiting.

I flip the switch.