Page 21 of Hard Rain Coming
A few moments passed, and then Bent shrugged. “Fair enough.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Dallas closed the office door behind him and pulled on his boots, muttering to himself as he did so. Where the hell did Bent come off talking to him about shit that was none of his business? Vivian was a tornado. Without her in his life, his world was calm and predictable. He liked it that way.
Pissed, he yanked open the door and strode outside. He took one step down, then paused, suddenly aware that he wasn’t alone. His body, already hypersensitized, tightened, and he had to work not to clench his hands into fists.
“Long day.” Vivian spoke softly, her voice riding the breeze from somewhere in the shadows.
“Long week,” he replied, stepping back onto the porch. His eyes found her, there in the corner on the rocking chair. Her face was in shadow, her hair braided, a dark contrast to the white wool blanket around her shoulders. On her feet? Fuzzy leopard-print slippers.
“I saw your place.”
“I heard.” His heart began a slow climb, the beats coming faster than he liked.
She got to her feet and walked toward him, her movements slow and precise until she stopped a few inches away. Her scent, that subtle, sensual musk that only she had, washed over him.
For a long time, the two of them stared at each other in silence, and then, as if a decision was made, Vivian licked her lips, squared her shoulders, and tilted her head in that way she had, like she knew she was about to cross a line. Like the tornado was about to be unleashed.
“That used to be our place.” Her words were quiet.
“Used to be.”
A small smile rocked her mouth, and his eyes were drawn to it.
“Remember when we camped there for two days? I told Dad I was staying in town with Cassidy Buchanan.”
His nod was a reply.
“I thought we would be like that forever.”
“Nothing lasts forever, Viv. You should know that.”
“No,” she said softly. “I suppose not. But we never even tried.”
“We fought all the time. There was nothing to save.”
A delicate eyebrow shot up at that. “Wasn’t there?”
What the hell was she getting at? “Look, Vivian. You’re obviously going through something. I don’t what that something is, but I do know I don’t want to get mixed up in your shit again. It’s not worth it.” He stared right at her, remembering the darkness of their history. Remembering how easily they hurt each other. “You’re not worth it. Not to me, anyway. Not anymore.”
Something flashed in her eyes. Pain?
Shit. He felt guilt and remorse and regret. But he also felt anger. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound like a complete dick. I’m just tired, and you’re…”
“I’m what?” she asked, moving a step closer. God she was beautiful. And crazy. And unpredictable. And hot as hell. And…
Fuck me, he thought. I want her. That notion alone was enough to shake him up. Enough to end this conversation.
“We’re wrong together.”
“We are,” she replied softly.
He turned and headed down the steps, making it to the last one before she spoke.
“You kept it.” She was looking down at him when he turned back.
“What?”