Leave Him Loved_Harloe Rae Page 12

  “Uh, okay. You’re building this up to be a terrifying experience. I might be disappointed in the end.”

  He mistakes my jest for a serious statement. “They actually do a decent job. I tend to startle at least once.”

  A shiver racks my limbs. “Why would you want to suffer through that? It’s probably best to skip it.”

  “Is the brave city girl afraid?”

  His taunt straightens my spine with artificial courage. I scoff. “Hardly.”

  “Great, we’ll see who surrenders first.” He notches a palm into the dip of my spine.

  The unexpected touch soothes my jagged nerves.

  “Right this way.”

  An intimidating wood barn stands tall and proud near the far edge of the festival. Considering the building is in our direct path, I safely assume that’s where Reeve is leading me. Being the size of a small prison is daunting enough. The concerning amount of fog streaming from the doors and windows is just overkill.

  “Do you believe in ghosts?”

  I almost leap out of my boots as his breath whispers across my neck. “Now might not be the greatest time for you to ask that.”

  “I’m just fucking with you. Wait, why are you trembling?” He gives my arm a gentle squeeze.

  Am I? Shit. “Um, maybe I’m cold?”

  “That’s something you shouldn’t question.”

  “Perhaps I’m a tad uncertain at the moment.”

  “Are you worried about going inside, Audria? We don’t have to do this.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Are you really? Or just in the way a woman claims when she’s anything but?”

  His read on me—and the female population in general—doesn’t help matters. I fling an arm out in front of me. “This entire spectacle is just very ominous.”

  “You’re not even getting the full impact. The sun is still shining. You should see this place at night.”

  As if I’m not frightened enough. I feign indifference to the best of my current ability. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  He wags his dark brows. “You want the front or rear?”

  I blink my wide eyes at him. “What kind of options are those?”

  Another loose chuckle escapes him.

  I don’t appreciate his humor at the expense of my sanity. “You’re so jumpy. This will be fun.”

  Famous final words shared from those not terrified of masked attackers paid by the hour. Behind every Jason and Michael is a bored teenager earning commission dependent on the number of screams they collect. I’m totally fucked.

  Menacing laughter floats from every direction as we approach the starting line. My stomach threatens to chuck the sandwich I had for lunch. Sweat gathers at my nape regardless of the cooler temperature. If I faint, will Reeve haul me out? He wouldn’t leave me behind. The toe of my boot shuffles closer to the darkness waiting to swallow me. Too late for a bailout. There’s no turning back, dammit.

  Reeve must decide I should lead this fear train, steering me in front of him with steady pressure on my hip. I suppose it’s better to see my assailants coming. The interior is pitch-black aside from the creepy strobe lighting that flickers at random intervals. Spider webs stretch across the crooked doorway. An eerie playlist of pitchy screams mingling with whistling winds and throaty howls blasts from overhead. My knees already knock, and Reeve has barely shoved me over the threshold.

  His touch on my waist grounds me to the moment. That slight hold allows me to focus on something other than the paralyzing dread threatening to drown me. I try to anchor myself with that distraction as my gaze swivels from left to right. Red paint is splattered across most surfaces, resembling blood more than I’m comfortable with. When loud, echoing footfalls sound like I’m being chased, my threshold for this charade reaches its peak. How long did I last? As if I care while my vision grows fuzzy.

  “Holy shit,” I pant and paste myself to the wall. I probably should’ve mentioned that these things terrify me. What do I gain by acting tough? I’m seconds away from either peeing my pants or fleeing in a cloud of animated dust.

  Reeve moves in front of me, blocking my view of the perceived dangers just beyond. “We can leave.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut. “No, I can manage. It’s silly to be afraid.”

  “Hey.” He nudges my chin with his knuckle. “Your fear is warranted. Don’t downplay it on my account.”

  “I feel ridiculous. Children are running through these halls without a single concern for their well-being.”

  “Their tolerance is higher. Don’t compare yourself to others.” This comes from the guy who has zero reason to lack an ounce of confidence.

  “Easy for you to say.” My giggle is shrill.

  “Okay, let’s try a more risky and aggressive strategy.”

  His words are lost on me as I try to ease the burning in my lungs, that is until he begins slowly and methodically rubbing the length of my arms. Up and down he travels, trying to elicit some sort of response. If only my limbs didn’t feel like hardened concrete. At this stage, his efforts are in vain, or so I believe.

  His touch lingers on my wrist. “Your pulse is racing.”

  I exhale a stuttering puff. “This barn gives me the creeps.”

  “That’s the entire point.”

  My body remains glued to the sturdy support behind me. “I might have an irrational fear of haunted houses—and heights. Not in that order.”

  Reeve laughs again, but the noise is dry and crispy. “And the truth spills out. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I’m a grown-ass woman capable of handling amusement suitable for kids.”

  “And how’s that prideful defense working out for you?”

  “Terribly,” I mutter.

  Reeve finds my hands tucked against my sides. I sag into the wall at that initial brush of warm contact. With a gentle glide of his calloused skin, he skates down until our fingers twitch in contact. His blunt nails trace the lines of my knuckles. My index taps the grooves marking his palms, sparking another round of curious exploration. His forefinger bumps along each digit, becoming intimately acquainted. He hooks a thumb around my pinky, drifting his touch until the entirety of our palms meld. His hands engulf mine, as if offering protection from the monsters lurking behind every shadowed nook. But I’m no longer scared. This delicate caress leaves me wanting, with no room for other emotion.

  Is he merely trying to set my mind at ease? If not, he takes holding hands to an entirely new level. His rough patches of hard work scrape against my pampered silk, blending to create an electric combination. That resulting rasp makes my toes curl.

  Our connection forms a snug fit, as if our two separate halves found their match. Dissecting his motions to this extreme seems ridiculous, but he’s taking such lengths to ensure I feel cherished with this sensual tenderness. Whatever his intentions are, this is a successful diversion. I’m too preoccupied with his movements to be aware of much else. The background fades as I get lost in his languid ministrations.

  He lifts my arms above my head, leaning in until our lips offer a scant tease with each labored exhale. “How’s this?”

  “You’re holding my hands.” Why am I pointing out the obvious?

  “I’m about to do more than that.”

  “What about your big speech?” I haven’t taken my gaze off his mouth.

  “Fuck what I said,” he murmurs.

  In the next instant, his fingers tunnel into my loose hair, and he yanks me into him. I feel bridled, but more than eager to be guided by his capable hand. Reeve doesn’t give me much time to protest. With another harsh tug, he slams our mouths together. He growls against the seam of my lips, demanding entry I am all too willing to give. His tongue plunders and explores, stroking along mine with a frenzy that rattles in my bones.

  He tastes like warm apple pie and coming home after too many nights away. Reeve exhales a quiet moan against my lips, a peaceful breeze over calm tides. I want to drown in hi
s tranquil waters. Maybe he’ll let me—just for a little while.

  I arch into him at the same moment Reeve presses our hips together. My resulting whimper is met with a brutish rumble that bellows of hungry lust. I flutter my lids as molten heat swims in my lower belly. How can he get me so aroused with a simple kiss? I recognize my error immediately. Nothing is simple about what’s smoldering hotter with each fiery stroke of our tongues. One minute lapses into the next until I’ve lost all sense of everything except his mouth joining with mine.

  He drags his lips to my jaw, and I tilt to grant him whatever access he seeks. With delicate nips and strokes, he skates upward until he sucks my earlobe between his teeth. I shiver against him and dig my nails into his back. Just as I’m about to dip my hand under the hem of his shirt, a loud boom of theatrical thunder cracks from the speakers. We separate in the same beat, a painfully sluggish retreat, as if forced.

  Reeve smiles against my cheek. A tingle zips up my spine at that small action. I nuzzle into the scratchy column of his throat to hide my rising blush. Neither of us are in a hurry to move. We’re in a very public space, making out like a couple of teens with their first whiff of love. There’s no doubt that Dottie and the gaggle of gossip queens will catch wind of this sordid deed.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he mumbles against my pout.

  I remain firmly rooted to the spot. “What just happened?”

  “The inevitable. I can’t pretend any longer. This was always going to happen. I could keep excusing my attraction away, but that’s just a horrible waste of time.”

  “Who’s to say those feelings are mutual?” I’m so full of shit that my eyes would turn brown if they weren’t already.

  He bites my bottom lip, drawing the flesh deep into his mouth. “No one can fake the reaction you just granted me. Our chemistry could reverse the windchill in January. Imagine what else we’re capable of. You can’t deny our potential.”

  As if to prove his point, my legs wobble with the lingering impact. “So confident.”

  “I prefer charming, ruggedly handsome, and wicked smart.”

  “Don’t forget cocky.”

  “We can continue this discussion over caramel apples and pumpkin pie. Maybe a corn dog and cheese curds too.” Without further delay, he tugs me out of the barn and away from my worst nightmare.

  “You’re still holding my hand,” I comment. The width of his massive mitt dwarfs my much smaller one. Why does that set off a rapid flutter in my stomach?

  Reeve glances at me from the corner of his eye. “Does that bother you?”

  “No.”

  “Good. If all goes according to plan, we’ll be doing a lot together. This”—he holds up our clasped palms—“is nothing in comparison.”

  “Oh,” I whisper.

  “That’s it?” His blue eyes sparkle under the afternoon sun.

  I blink out of the haze he creates. My brain is jumbled enough. “I’m still a tad shaken.”

  “Okay, I’ll make it easy for you. I like holding your hand.”

  “That’s romantic.”

  He chuckles, pinning me with the potent heat in his stare. “I’m glad you think so.”

  This man can switch roles mighty quick. My head is volleying from one extreme to the other, trying to keep up. Here’s hoping we stay on the bright side.

  “So, what does this mean?” I nod to our interlocked fingers.

  “We’re going to be seeing more of each other.”

  “In what capacity?” I’ve never been one to slap down stipulations, but he started it.

  “Do we need a label?”

  “Not necessarily. I’m just fine coming to an agreement.”

  He nods along with me. “Such as?”

  “Basically nothing complicated. We can have strings, but they get severed in June. We can work out additional details along the way.”

  His shrug is lopsided. “That’s good enough for me.”

  The smile lifting my mouth comes easier than it has in months. “Great. This is a huge relief.”

  Reeve barks out a laugh. “Plenty more of that is to come.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  “As you should.” He winks at me. “Oh, and I just became your personal country-living liaison.”

  I furrow my brow. “Is that a thing?”

  “It is now.”

  After a harsh crank of the wheel, I drive my truck onto the dirt path bisecting Harry’s back forty. He asked me to check on the harvest progress out in the fields, and that man is not one I easily refuse. Even on a Saturday. The visit turns out to be quick, not that I expected any different. This crew has been successfully cropping together for enough seasons to lose track.

  The tires bounce along the rough terrain as I offer a parting wave to the guys still in view. With a flick of my wrist, I turn up the radio to drown out the churning grind of machinery. A chart-topping hit about finding a girl to love croons from the stereo. This damn song is more overplayed than pull tabs on payday. I would usually switch the station after hearing a few chords, but I find myself letting the tune serenade me. Lyrics of ultimate devotion warble through the cab, and just like that, my thoughts drift to Audria.

  The last time I saw her was a game changer. I never would’ve guessed that one of Bam’s most prized attractions would be a source of sheer terror for her. She put on a brave façade, but the woman was petrified. Did it boost my ego to swoop in and save the day? Fuck yes. It didn’t hurt that kissing her stemmed the panic. That was a turning point for us, and we took advantage. We stayed at the festival until they closed for the night. Only a few moments existed where I wasn’t touching her in some form or another. It’s about damn time I pulled the trigger and blew up my idiotic plan to stay away from her. I should’ve known that idea would be an epic fail after initially concocting it. We officially put that scheme behind us, and the relief still floods through me.

  I tap my thumb against the center console as a faster beat flows from the speakers. According to my calculations, Audria will be in Bam for nine more months. I’m bound and determined to make the most of her stay in our small town. That’s why I’m taking the lead in introducing her to all the best parts of living in Iowa farm country. The list of possibilities has been pinging against my skull since I created that ridiculous liaison title. I plan to start our explorations today.

  My expectations are nonexistent. I’m not interested in a serious commitment. Audria is leaving next summer. Our arrangement is straightforward enough. This way we get to be together in some sense without getting attached. Gavin has already placed bets on how long it will take for me to crumble. I’m not concerned, but I might play along just for fun. Whoever she ends up with for the long haul will be very fortunate. For now, she’s mine. Just for a little while.

  I’m well aware that she’s the total package. That woman would make better guys than me want to change their reputation. Audria is more than a pretty face. She’s a complete knockout. Don’t get me wrong. I’ll easily admit that to anyone who requires an eye exam. But it’s not just her physical appearance that attracts me. Her compassion and snappy wit keep me honest. Most importantly, I find myself in a damn good mood whenever she’s nearby. I like her company. It’s as simple as that.

  Even so, I’m not the relationship sort. That’s a fact Mrs. Mayberry never fails to mention, when given the opportunity. It suits me well that Audria has similar requirements for a temporary relationship. Using that word for the deal we struck seems too serious, but we’re more than a fling. That’s why labels are messy. We’re just enjoying one another in whatever capacity we choose. I want to believe this will be more than scratching an itch or getting her out of my system, but maybe that’s exactly what will happen. Why am I so preoccupied by this shit? The entire purpose of giving in is to remove the excess strain.

  All this internal debating weighs on me, settling a load of uncertainty on my shoulders. At the next deserted intersection, I do an extended stop to di
al Audria’s number. I’m put out of my misery after two rings.

  “Hey, farmer.” She sounds out of breath, which allows my filthy thoughts to roam free.

  I cough to cover any evidence of my wayward imagination while easing off the brakes. If Officer Reirson is out on patrol, he’ll wonder why the hell I’m stalling in the middle of nowhere. That’ll raise suspicions I don’t need. “Whatcha doin’, city girl?”

  “Just got out of the shower. I was about to get dressed when you called.”

  I bite my fist to muffle a string of curses. That’s precisely what I didn’t need to hear. Before I can demand she send me some spank-bank material, I swerve for a diversion. “How’s your morning been?”

  “Pretty low-key. I was Zooming with the ladies earlier.”

  That takes some of the lustful edge off, and I smile. In my meaningless book of judgment, it says a lot about a person’s character when they can maintain significant bonds regardless of distance. Audria never fails to show. The other three still live near one another and could meet whenever they want, but they refuse to leave her isolated. Instead, all four of them schedule video chats on the weekends and gab in their jammies. This is all according to Audria. I have yet to be invited.

  “How’s the gal gang doing?”

  She hums a jolly tune. “Very well. Vannah is already in line for a promotion. Clea just bought tickets for a cruise. Presley’s nausea is improving, so she’s starting to like being pregnant.”

  “Did you tell them I said hello?”

  She snorts. “Yes, even though they have no idea who you are.”

  “There’s an easy solution for that.”

  Audria makes an agreeable noise. “If you’re ever at my house at eight o’clock in the morning.”

  “Is that an invitation?”

  “Perhaps,” she drawls.

  “I’ll remember that for later. Can I pick you up in thirty minutes?”

  “That depends. Where are you taking me?”

  I give a low grunt. “It’s a surprise.”

  “Do I get a hint?”

  “Nope.”