Impulsion: A Station 32 Fire Men Novel (10 page)

His hands moved down her sides, moved to all the places, in all the ways, that had always relaxed her before. “You’re safe…let go,” he whispered.

It was his voice, not his touch, those few words that he always said to her when he saw past the surface of who she tried to be, when he told her to relax, to trust him, that eased her.

She began to move her hands down his back, tighten her legs around him. She had almost decided the pain might have a sweet sensation to it when Wyatt pulled away.

His lips met hers, and he pulled a deep kiss from her as he backed up in the cab. He stepped out of the truck in the rain and was gone long enough for Harley to catch her breath and take inventory of her body, of the lingering pain, of the idea that somehow she had left that night a girl and was coming back a woman. For the briefest of seconds, she wasn’t sure she wanted to be a woman. She didn’t regret a moment of that, but she was afraid, a million ‘what if’s’ ran through her mind as she pulled her clothes together.

Wyatt climbed back in the truck, reached for her, and pulled her on his lap. “You okay?” he asked. She nodded against his chest, even lifted her head so that she could kiss his neck. She could still feel his heart racing.

“I love you, Harley.”

“You are the only one I ever could love…”

They still had thirty minutes before they had to leave. The first twenty, they didn’t speak; he just held her and feathered kisses across her forehead.

“Tell me you don’t regret it, even if you have to lie,” he finally said to her.

She lifted her head, met his eyes. Dared to smile. “I don’t. I’ve been trying to figure out how to make Ava beg you for another movie night as soon as possible, maybe the creek, but it might be muddy. We could try the barn again. I honestly don’t think Truman would wake up if I snuck in your apartment.”

A smile burst across his face
. He knew that was what she was looking for. “I will steal any moment you want. Nothing can keep us apart. We’re too real.”

Her lips were on his before the word ‘real’ managed to make it completely out. For an instant, they lost control, let their hands run wild, but when he felt her tense, when the shadow of the pain she went through expressed itself, he slowed them down.

“I’m fine,” she swore with a laugh.

He had his doubts, but he didn’t say a word. Wyatt didn’t ask Easton for a play-by-play or anything, but Easton told him enough, told him to be careful, slow, not to expect any kind of fireworks, not this time. Not to freak if she freaked. All that was fine and good for Wyatt; he just could not stand the idea of her in any pain, to be the cause of it.

“We have to go. For all I know, Dorcas went hunting for you, figured out you were gone, then went looking for me,” Harley said, moving from his lap.

“Fuck her,” Wyatt said as he helped her over the seat. “What are they going to do? Tell me I can’t see you next summer?”

Wyatt got out and moved to the driver’s seat, so he never saw Harley’s face fall, the smile she used to cover it by the time he put the truck in gear. Harley knew without a doubt her mother was a vindictive bitch, that she would do whatever she could to hurt the Dorans, hurt Harley—all over the fact that Harley could have or did shame her family. Wyatt may not be afraid to deal with his family, may even know that no matter what upset popped up, he could handle it, but it wasn’t the same for Harley. Not at all.

“We still have to be careful. I’m still trying to fix next summer, even the fall and spring breaks. I know I could tell my dad, even your mom, that you need to come up and work with Danny Boy a few days.”

“Does that mean I get to wear a cool butler outfit?” he quipped.

When she didn’t smile, he reached for her hand. “Still careful. I swear. I don’t care if they tell me I can or cannot come up there. I have my own truck, I’ll be over eighteen. I’ll find a way to see you, even if I have to fly overseas. I’m not afraid to fight for you, Harley.”

“It just has to be a silent fight right now,” she said.

All she meant by that was with her mother, her family, it was better to fight behind the scenes, to strike when no one saw it coming, when you had power, reason, and planning on your side. But Wyatt thought he heard that she always wanted him to be her secret. That hurt. Not bad enough to make him walk away, but bad enough to doubt. This was one of the times when she felt a million miles away, even though she was right next to him.

Sleep didn’t come to Harley that night. She had taken a long bath
, soaking her body, thinking the entire time that the pair of them had doubled the risk they were taking, thinking through all the ‘what if’s.’ She and Wyatt didn’t talk through most of them on the way back to the theater, but he did, in his own way, say that he had used every precaution he could have, that in his mind it would be a miracle for them to have created something that would have changed their lives forever.

He even asked in a roundabout way what protection she thought she could get. Harley knew going to a doctor would be out of the question. The risk of her mother figuring out that they had crossed that line was too great.

Her ride the next day was horrible because she was sore. Camille all but cursed her through the entire lesson, even told her that obviously going to the movies was bad for her skill level, that she apparently needed rest. That night, there was no chance of sneaking out. Camille seemed far too curious as to why Harley’s ride had shifted so badly, so quickly.

The next day, though, Wyatt met her early that morning, gave her a slow, tender kiss before they ever bothered to fix the feed for the horses. “You all right today?”

“It was not getting sleep, nothing else,” she swore.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt. I’m going to ride Danny Boy first today.”

She gave in to that request, even though it made her feel weak. She knew her horse was not a ride that anyone could master in a short time, but it made her mad that she still needed the strength of Wyatt to control him.

Wyatt was off Danny Boy before his mother made it to the ring.

“Let’s see if we can not waste anyone’s time today,” she said as she laid the lunge line on the fence.

As Wyatt helped Harley mount, his hand brushed across hers on the reins, the other across her calf.

“Remember, he feels the slightest tension. He’s going to give you what you ask for, soft hands, strong legs, breathe. You’re safe.”

She nodded and squeezed her legs. The first part of the lesson was awkward, as it always was after a bad lesson with Camille. She was always harder the next go round, gave no praise until you went beyond the level where you should be. Before long, she was nodding her head. “That’s it, I’ll have to make sure your father knows you need ten hours of sleep at night and that movies are bad for your health,” she quipped.

Harley was so stoked about her ride that day that she was the one that found a moment with Wyatt. She had gone up to his apartment to get her lunch out of his kitchen fridge a second after she heard Camille tell him to bring down a bucket of ice. Harley slammed him against the wall, moved her hands across his chest, and reached up for his lips. He grasped her legs and pulled them around him, then moved her against the wall. They only had a second, but he still rocked against her, let his hands wisp by all his favorite curves.

“Creek tonight?” he asked in a husky breath as he ended their kiss. They usually avoided the creek for days after a hard rain, but there had been two days of punishing heat, so the bank was sure to be dry enough. Even if it wasn’t, he didn’t care
. In fact, as far as he was concerned they could stay in the golf cart.

“No matter how late,” she said as she grabbed her lunch and ran down the stairs before anyone could bother to miss her.

Dinner was a grill out that night. Beckett had cooked enough for an army to arrive. All of Ava and Truman’s friends were over again. Memphis even showed in the middle of it, but no one stayed the night.

By ten, most had left. Harley stayed in her room. She could hear Camille on the phone down the hall. It sounded like she was talking to Harley’s mom, only because her tone was sharp and she was using terms that she knew would be lost on Claire Tatum, horse terms at least. Basically, Camille was saying that it was not her issue that Claire was on a tight schedule, that skill, horses, and riders had their own
schedule to run by.

Harley knew that meant her mother was arguing that Danny Boy was going home to New York in a few weeks, that Harley’s mother had found even more trainers for Camille to meet. Apparently, the last two Camille had shut down before they ever opened their mouths.

Knowing that pushed Harley to want to escape, lose herself in Wyatt even more. Normally, she would wait an hour after she heard a voice or TV before she would dare to sneak out, but not tonight. She flashed her flashlight in Wyatt’s window across the way not long after she heard Camille end her call.

A few minutes later, she was climbing down the side of the balcony.

Wyatt wasn’t expecting Harley’s signal as early as it came. It was only by chance that he was even looking that way in the first place. From his apartment, he could see the lamp in his mom’s room still on, but he came anyway—ran, actually, because he thought something was wrong.

By the time he helped Harley down, it was too late to tell her that his mom was still up. They were better off running into the darkness and holding on to the hope that his mom would not check on Harley. She hadn’t in three summers, so their chances were pretty strong on that front.

They ran through the shadows, found the golf cart Wyatt had hidden earlier that day, and took off.

“What happened? It’s early,” he asked her once they were almost to the creek.

She couldn’t tell him that she was sure she was losing her argument, that there was a ninety-nine percent chance that she and Danny Boy were leaving in less than three weeks. The words hung in her throat.

Instead, she slid next to him. “I wanted every second with you, even if I had to steal a few.”

He knew that wasn’t it but gave in to the moment. They could find a way to argue, even worry together around others. Moments like this, they had to take when they came.

He laid out the blanket like he always did, expected to lay there and count the stars with her, maybe even find a way to plot around this hell before him, but before he even knelt down her lips were on his. Her kiss went deep fast, and her hands were grabbing, as they raced across his chest, his waist, lower.

He broke away and pulled a plastic square from his pocket. “Same deal,” he breathed.

She took it from him and let it fall on the edge of the blanket, then moved back to claim his lips. He picked up her legs, wrapped them around him, feeling her use all the strength that he had tried to pull from her, then laid her down on the blanket. There was no caress in either of their touches
—they were on fire, demanding to get as close as possible as fast as possible, knowing any distant sound would rip them apart.

She had worn a dress again, on purpose. It made it past her chest with little effort from his strong hands. She struggled with his clothes, just wanting to touch him. Not long after she found him, after she heard his breath catch a time or two, she reached to find that plastic
and both their hands landed on it at the same time.

She didn’t look away this time. She didn’t have a doubt in her mind, but he still hesitated as he hovered over her. She pulled him to her. Wyatt eased them together, sensing every part of her body. She only winced once, but it was followed by a gasp. Taking her lead, they gained speed.

Shocking him, she clamped her legs around him, nearly stealing his breath, then rolled him to his back.

The position caught Harley off guard at first. A trace of that pain from before was there, but the sweetness was stronger. As soon as she relaxed once more, she found a rhythm, not caring that the blanket had been moved, that her knees were basically in the dirt. All of it felt empowering to her
—the night stars blanketing her; the summer air causing their skin to glisten; the sound of his breaths; the deep moans; the way he would say her name, in that deep southern tone. When he leaned up, she tensed for a moment, felt that pain for an instant, but then it faded as soon as he moved.

His lips were moving across her neck, and she could feel him mouth ‘I love you’ against her skin; that was her undoing. It felt like her entire body was shattering from the inside out. She felt a wave of energy vibrating through her body, throbbing against his. That instant, he moaned and lifted her at the same time, then fell back, catching his breath. All she could do was stare at his chest, every rigid muscle, the breath going in and out of his lips, which were still wet from her kiss.

“It can’t get any better than this,” she breathed.

“I have no problem testing that theory,” he said as his hands moved to her hips.

He leaned up, stealing a kiss before moving her legs from around him and making his way to the creek side. Right as he was walking back to her, as he fastened his belt, he heard the dogs bellowing. He had heard them start to bark before, just as he and Harley started to heat up, but they stopped faster than he could manage to stop himself.