THIRTY-SIX

Mel

“You did good,” Dog praises as we make it back to camp.

I shoot him an unimpressed glare. There’s a rack of ribs thrown over my shoulder, and I have one side of the animal’s head in my hand, the velvet on the antlers at least minimizing the ache from holding it for so long.

Dog sets his side of the head down and then proceeds to unload not only a bag he stuffed the prime cuts of meat into, but the gun, and the other side of the ribs tied on to the pack.

He smirks as he helps me set my haul down.

“What’s so funny, huh?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing much.”

“Spill.” I nudge him in the back of the leg with my boot.

He glances up at me over his shoulder before straightening up to stand toe-to-toe. A stupid smile spreads across my face as he places his hands on my hips and gives me the most sincere, heartfelt look.

“It’s just …”

I melt at the adoration in his eyes.

“ … you look like a serial killer.”

The adorable look morphs into one of unhinged amusement as he cracks up laughing. I swat at his chest while I laugh too. The fucker had me.

“I was so sure you were about to say something sweet.”

He shakes his head, the blond lengths falling into his eyes. “You should see your face. What did you do? Rub your eye or somethin’?”

“Probably.” I shrug.

“Hold there. I’ll get my phone so I can take a photo and show you.”

He dashes away, clearly excited at the thought, and leaves me with the masses of meat. A part of me feels terrible that the buck met its end, but most of me is thankful for the space it’ll fill in the freezer.

The hike back to camp would have been long enough on its own, but add in the walk out to retrieve the animal and my feet are toast. I drop down on the grass and begin unlacing my boots as Dog emerges from where he’d been inside the tent.

“What’s the matter?” I hesitate, lace in hand.

He walks absently toward me while staring at his phone. “Got a message from King while we were out.”

“What’s going on?” We’ve barely been gone a day. What could give him reason to get in touch?

“Family problems.” Dog stops beside where I sit. “I need to get back by the looks of things.”

“Guess we’ll pack up and set off then.” I reverse what I was doing and re-lace my boots.

He frowns down at me, his chest heaving with a sigh. “I’m sure it’s nothin’ to worry about.”

“Try saying that again like you mean it.”

Dog holds out his hand and I take it, allowing him to pull me to my feet. “You had fun, though?”

I nod, placing a hand on his chest to steady myself. “Despite the fact I’m apparently covered in blood, yeah, I did.”

“I did too, babe.” His lips curl up on one side as he looks down at me.

With nothing short of tender care, he fists the cuff of his shirt in his hand and uses the sleeve of his sweater to wipe my face clean.

Curiosity gets the better of me. “Am I the first?”

“First what?” He frowns.

“Girl you’ve taken hunting.”

His smirk returns, full force, as he runs a rough thumb down the side of my face. “You jealous, Miss Mel?”

“Curious, is all.”

“Hmm.” He bops me on the nose with his thumb and then pulls away. “Think you could pull down the tent?”

“Can’t promise it’ll be packed away very tidy.” Especially when I’m currently frustrated at his lack of answer.

I don’t know why it matters so much if he’s shared this experience with another woman, but I can’t deny the fact that it does. The sickness swirling in my stomach at the thought of our special getaway not being so special after all, tells me so.

“Doesn’t matter if it’s thrown in a pile.” He heaves as he picks up both sides, and tosses the slabs of meat and bone over his shoulder. “We’ll get all this thrown on the bed of the truck and get our asses home, yeah? Worry about sortin’ it out properly when we get there.”

I manage to get the tent into a relatively square bundle by the time Dog’s loaded the deer and our packs into the truck. He lifts my mess and carries it to the vehicle, giving me an unhindered view of his wide back and tapered waist. He’s always intrigued me with his classic all-American look. He’s the sort of pretty boy you could imagine fitted out in football gear, young girls hanging off his every word. Take the leather off his back, and the boots from his feet, and he’d be one of a million attractive middle-class guys.

But he’s not. He’s Dog: an enigma inside and out.

“Ready?” He leans one elbow on the side of the truck bed, using his free hand to push that dirty blond hair out of his face.

“I guess so.” King’s message doesn’t seem to have flustered him too much, but I can tell he’s downplaying how much of a hurry he’s in to get home.

There’s something he’s not saying, and after we broke ground last night, that kind of bothers me. It’s as though he still doesn’t know for sure if he can trust me.

Dog holds my door open as I round the truck to the passenger side. “We could do this again, you know?”

I nod, climbing up onto my seat, and give him a smile. “Hope so. Kind of wish I could stay out here forever.”

“Me too.” He closes the door before I get a chance to reply, rounding the hood to his side. Worry etches the lines on his face, his eyes distant as he climbs in on his side and starts the truck.

He hasn’t said anything about his father other than the relationship to his mother’s death, but I get the sense that whatever it was I witnessed outside his house was just the tip of the iceberg. Dog holds secrets that eat at him day and night, and yet somehow he manages to fool most everyone with his playful, cocky behavior.

I reach across the seat as he pulls onto the road and rest my hand on his thigh. “I wish you’d talk to me about it.”

He glances across the cab as we bump along the rutted road. “I would, babe.” His lips kick up at the side. “But until we get back, I don’t know for sure what to tell you.”

“I don’t want to see you hurt again, is all.” I rest my head against the back of the seat, still watching him. “Your father doesn’t deserve your time if that’s how he treats you.”

“I know.”

“So why do you give it to him?”

He sighs, squeezing my hand beneath his. “Because, babe, even if they are assholes, my brother and father are the only real family I have left. I thought I could cut him off …” He lets his words drift off, squinting a little as he stares at the horizon. “I realized that if I walk away from him, I walk away from anythin’ and everything that might still connect me to my mom. Sounds silly, I know, but if I forget about them, I forget about her.”

“It’s not silly at all.” It makes utter and complete sense. “Just don’t let him sour those memories, okay?”

He chuckles, short and bitter. “He already has.”

Dog focuses on his driving again as we reach the sealed road, a frown in place as he increases speed on the open stretch leading to the nearby town. The minutes pass in silence before he glances over once more, yet this time with a soft smile.

“Thank you, Mel.”

“For what?” I twist my body, tucking my legs up so I face him completely.

“For this. For you.” He squeezes my hand again, only this time his grip doesn’t relax. “You make the shit bearable, you know? You even the scales.”

“I don’t know …” I look to the road as I try to think of why he’d see it that way.

I gave him nothing but trouble when I first got back, threw a hissy fit at him because of my own inability to voice how I felt about him, and then have done nothing since but be myself. Be the person I’d hope to have by my side.

“You do,” Dog presses. “Hey. Look at me.”

I turn my head his way once more as he does the same, his eyes flicking to and from the road as he tries to hold my gaze best he can. “Nothing my dad says could make me feel bad about myself anymore and you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t give stock to what he says. I don’t give a shit about his opinion anymore because the only one that matters now, is yours, and you love me. That’s enough for me. That’s the only opinion I need to know.”

“I do love you,” I whisper.

“And I love you, babe.”

He doesn’t say anymore as he returns his gaze to the road, simply holding my hand the rest of the drive home. It’s the most treasured I’ve felt since the men who mean the most in my life—Daddy and Hooch—watched me climb on the back of a bike knowing that if they wanted me safe, they’d have to risk never seeing me again.

The most precious.

The most loved.