Heart of the Storm (Triple Diamond Book 4)

by Gemma Snow

  “No, Hollie.” He tugged her closer, trying to ignore how smooth her skin felt below his calloused fingers as she willingly moved into his space. “No, you don’t get to waltz back in here after ten fucking years and tell me that you missed me without an explanation. No, you don’t get to start putting crazy ideas in my head after all the time I’d spent thinking about you and no, goddamn it, you don’t get to stand there looking so beautiful it makes me regret every choice I’ve ever made.”

  His voice was a low growl and he was giving over to the anger with such ease that he knew he needed to pull back, knew he needed to stop before too many words got out, before too many things were left hanging in the air between them, unable to pushed back into the box.

  “It’s not just about you.” She said this flatly and he would have believed it, had her pulse not been fluttering where he still held her wrist. God, it would be so easy, so delicious, to just turn and press her against the barn wall, to pin both of her slender wrists in one of his hands and to…

  “Of course.” He dropped her hand, as the words began to register. There had been a catalyst for when he and Sheriff Easton had gone from casual friends to sworn enemies.

  “Can you give me time, Sawyer?” she asked him. This time, she stepped forward all on her own and those extra few inches pushed hard at the foundation of Sawyer’s self-control. He needed to put an end to this right now. He needed to send her on her way and make sure she kept her distance for the next two weeks.

  But then she put her hands on his chest and the bare touch of her fingers against the fabric of his shirt made Sawyer’s mouth go dry and his mind go blank. He had fantasized over her touch for nearly a decade and there simply wasn’t any restraint left.

  “Just a little bit of time to figure out how to explain. Shit.” She shook her head and those soft blonde waves brushed against his shirt too, tickled the exposed skin of his neck, made him want to wrap his hand around the base of her ponytail and pull hard. His cock tightened at the thought, growing painfully rigid behind his jeans, and it took everything in him not to release the groan that her simple touch, her nearness, caused.

  Not that it would have made much of a difference, because Hollie had her head tilted downward, and when she lifted her gaze to look at him, her cheeks were flushed bright pink.

  Wonderful. There’s nothing like classic heartbreak, lust and humiliation.

  Still she didn’t step away. In fact, it seemed to Sawyer almost as if she were moving closer, closing the small space between them one half inch at a time. Surely that was his crazed imagine speaking. Surely she wasn’t looking at him with a glint of danger just sharp enough to cut the last threads of his self-control.

  “Sawyer.” His name wasn’t even out of her lips when he pulled their bodies together and kissed her hard, fierce, demanding. Hollie Callihan was not a woman to back down from a challenge and she responded a second later with the same intensity that rioted through his own body, until he felt the wall behind his back and her lush form pressed against his front. His cock was screaming now, throbbing hard into the lush curve of her inner thigh, and it was all Sawyer could do to keep only kissing her, slipping his tongue in between her lips, ravaging and exploring her mouth and letting her do the same to him, even as he knew this was just about the worst choice he could have had made in a lifetime of regrets and poor choices.

  “Fuck, Hollie.” Was that his own voice? It was hard to tell, especially when the words got caught on a groan the moment she brushed his hard-on. Damn, this woman had the ability to turn his brain to mush in five seconds flat.

  She moaned into his mouth and started trailing her hands across his chest, slowly, deliberately, caressing the muscles below his shirt, pausing at each erect nipple to tease and tantalize until they formed stiff peaks and his cock was hard enough to break stone. She was just moving lower, just pulling the shirt from his waistband, when a noise at the door startled them both.

  “Hollie, are you in here? The press needs us down by the courthouse in…oh…”

  In the dim light, Sawyer recognized the woman who had come out to Wolf Creek with Hollie, an Agent…something. At the moment, he didn’t really give a damn. All he cared about was the way Hollie’s breasts felt in his hands.

  “Right,” Hollie called back across the barn, her voice swollen and thick. Because of me. “I’ll be out in just a moment, Van. Tell them to hold on.”

  The door was open and shut and they were both alone again, the spell indisputably broken and the power this woman held over him back to being shackles instead of wings.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, stepping back from him and pulling the ponytail tight against her scalp. She pushed those lovely strands of hair off her face and adjusted her shirt. “I shouldn’t have put you in that position. It won’t happen again.”

  And before Sawyer got the chance to tell her how very much he would like to be put back into that position, she followed her agent out of the door and left him standing in the barn alone.

  Fool me once…

  Chapter Five

  So much for survival skills.

  It hardly mattered that she’d spent the better part of a decade working search and rescue, hiking, diving, jumping and climbing. Forget the EMT training, First Aid training, CPR training and Emergency Response training. She might as well have slathered bacon grease all over her naked body and walked into a literal lion’s den with the amount of survival prowess she had just exhibited.

  But God, Sawyer had been standing there looking broody and beautiful, his eyes dark, his every muscle pulled taut, enticing. And she’d lost her fucking mind. Without question. Because kissing Sawyer Matthews in a dark barn one hundred feet away from half their town not two days after arriving back in Wolf Creek was, irrefutably, insane.

  And yet, Hollie couldn’t deny, not to herself, not in this moment of stark vulnerability, that it held felt so right to be back in his arms, touching the man that Sawyer Matthews had become, feeling him, giving in to the pull that had scared her for so long.

  If only it were that easy.

  Because if it were just Sawyer, just her best friend, just the boy she had shared starry nights and mornings at the diner with, it would be one thing. If it were just Sawyer, she would never have run away with her tail between her legs and her mind unable to comprehend the maddening things she so desperately craved. If it were just Sawyer.

  But it hadn’t been just Sawyer back then, not even when he was ink-free and beardless and a foot shorter than the beautiful and base man she had just launched herself at in the barn. It hadn’t been just Sawyer then and it wasn’t just Sawyer now either.

  “Do you mind if we take a little detour?” she asked Savannah. After her disastrous encounter in the barn, she had fled—again—grabbed Savannah and booked it for the press conference down by the courthouse. A quick meeting with the mayor had followed and she had been blissfully, beautifully, wonderfully distracted from the way Sawyer had felt below her fingertips, how his body had pressed against hers, lit her up from the inside out and made her forget every reason for leaving.

  But now that she was navigating the old, familiar roads she’d taken so many times in her life, the distraction behind her, his touch, was all she could think about.

  “Sure,” Savannah eyed her curiously. “If you tell me what I walked in on in the barn this morning.”

  “Nothing to tell.”

  Liar, liar, regulation cargo pants on fire.

  “Hollie.” Savannah turned in her seat and Hollie glanced over at her. Savannah’s bright, discerning eyes made the farm girl from Kansas too smart for her own good—far too smart for Hollie’s good. But there was genuine concern there and Hollie couldn’t help but sigh. She hadn’t spoken to anyone about anything that had happened the night she had left Wolf Creek, except for that one drunken slip to Dec and Micah. Not even Wes, who had been on his second tour with the Peace Corps by then, knew the reason she had never gone back. But Savannah was a friend
, a good one, someone she could rely on. Plus, the woman was going to get some information out of her sooner or later.

  “You’ve been jumpy and fidgety since we got here,” Savannah continued. “It’s not like you to hook up with strangers, especially not on a job.” Her gaze sharpened. “I want to know what to watch out for.”

  Hollie’s heart softened slightly. It felt good to have someone watching her back. For so long it had been her against the world. Sure, she had her teams, her search and rescue partners and all the rest. But she’d never really stayed long enough in one place to make true friends—and if that had anything do with what she had so desperately wanted from the ones she had made once upon a time, Hollie wasn’t going to give it a second thought.

  “You’re dangerous,” she said with a smile. “I’m glad you’re on my side.”

  Savannah gave her a grin, softening her freckles and making some of the loose red hair around her face spill in front of her eyes. Lord save me from redheads with knowing gazes.

  “Okay. Information for detour. Fine.” She took a deep breath at the same moment as she turned down the old, familiar road. “I grew up here, in Wolf Creek. Born and raised, actually.”

  Savannah didn’t say a word, but out of the corner of her eye, Hollie saw the other woman raise her eyebrow.

  “I left when I was eighteen and I never looked back. My grandmother had passed away and my brother was long gone, somewhere in South America or some such. I didn’t have anything to tie me here.”

  If your nose gets any longer, you won’t be able to see the road in front of you.

  “It doesn’t seem that way,” Savannah said bluntly. Because she had, of course, seen Hollie sucking face with the fire captain just that morning.

  “It’s complicated, Van,” she said quietly. “Sawyer… Sawyer was my best friend. But…” The old oak tree came into view and whatever she was going to say next died on Hollie’s lips when she pulled up to the base of it and put the car into park. Savannah must have known, must have understood on some fundamental level, because she didn’t say a word when Hollie got out of the car and slowly made her way across the lawn.

  The grass was neatly trimmed, the paint slightly lighter than the baby blue it had been in her memories. The rope on the tire swing hanging from the far branch was fraying and the flowerbeds were empty, but fresh mulch and clean rocks showed good maintenance, good care. It should be. She paid a pretty penny to keep the place up, even though she’d never had any plans of returning, even though standing here, before this beautiful, classic, historic little house, was like stepping into a photograph, a film of her own life she had never planned to watch.

  She walked slowly around to the back of the house. This had always been her favorite part, watching the way the backyard of her home had opened up to the wide, forever skies. Soft, flat clouds lazed overhead and she tilted her head back up to watch them, wondering, if only for a moment, how she could have left this all behind.

  Fear of hurting the two people you care most about in the world.

  But she had hurt them. She had hurt them and she had hurt herself. Running hadn’t been a better way, just a different way, and it had meant giving up so much of who she was.

  ‘She’s ours. Both of ours.’

  The way Micah had said that about his relationship, about Lily, about Dec McCormick, a man’s man if Hollie had ever known one, it had tripped something up inside her, given her ideas she had no right to be thinking.

  If she could return, if she could walk right back into her life here in Wolf Creek and indulge those deep, hidden secrets, would she?

  It doesn’t matter. Because you won’t get the chance.

  And pretending she would get the chance would only make it all the harder when she inevitably got up and walked away.

  Cade spied Hollie’s Jeep down the long dirt road and turned before he could think better of it. Chances were good she was staring up at the sky in the middle of her backyard, and part of him, a deeply hidden, desperately glutton for punishment part of him, needed to see that one last time.

  “You forget something at home?” Camilla asked him from the passenger seat. She knew this drive all too well, for the same reason Cade knew that Hollie’s room was the third window on the second floor, and for the same reason he just knew she was standing with her eyes closed to the sun and her arms stretched out.

  They’d been so much more than next door neighbors.

  And Hollie’s grandmother had been so much more than his friend’s guardian, Wes Callihan so much more than a passing acquaintance. The Callihan family had been the closest thing Cade had to a family, when his parents had spent their nights at bars outside of Helena doing God only knew what, and it was late night television and school lunches that had kept Cade fed and company.

  He pulled up beside the forest green Jeep Cherokee and nodded to Agent Walsh, sitting in the front seat and looking through a pile of papers.

  “Mind keeping Agent Walsh company for a moment?” he asked Cam, who gave him the look that told him she knew exactly what the fuck was going on and she was letting him get away with it. “She’s pretty, Cam. It could be worse.” He stepped out of the car and headed around back, aware Agent Walsh was watching him and that she was very much watching Cam, who had come around to the other side of the car. His feet followed the worn path almost without conscious thought and when he cleared the back of the house, there she was.

  Hollie’s hair was loose, spilling down her back in soft, shiny gold curls when she tilted her head skyward. Even without seeing it, Cade knew her eyes were closed, and he moved as quietly as he could to stand by her side. Her hand was close, fingers so very, very close to his own and he brushed their knuckles together as gently as he could, fearful of pulling her from her trance.

  She must have known he was there, must have acted on the same instinct that had brought him back here, because her fingers wrapped around his own—smooth, soft, slightly calloused on the knuckles, but so familiar that it burned a path right up his body.

  How many times had they stood here, just like this, eyes closed, hands held tight, faces tilted up to the skies? When she spoke, her voice was soft as the touch of her fingertips.

  “How did you know I would be here?” It wasn’t an accusation, merely a question, as if she were surprised he would remember her like this, the girl in the garden with her smile to the sun.

  “I could never forget, Hollie,” he managed, glad she couldn’t see his face, glad he couldn’t look into her eyes as he spoke. “I couldn’t forget a thing about you. I tried. Believe me, I tried.”

  She pulled back slightly, though she didn’t break the contact of their fingers, and when Cade opened his eyes, she stood closer to him than he would have thought.

  “I never meant to hurt you,” she managed, the truth so obvious in those deep blue eyes, and he believed her. But it didn’t matter, not now.

  “You did hurt me, though,” Cade managed. “Hol, you were just about the only person I cared about in this town. And you just left. How…how was I supposed to feel?”

  It wasn’t anger in his voice, not anymore. He had never been quick to anger and that had been half the problem. For so long, Cade had accepted that life was easier for some people, accepted that he would never have sunny days and cozy nights, accepted it and allowed it and never questioned why him. Then Hollie and Wes had moved next door and it had been like a light switch had turned. Ruthie Callihan had opened her doors to so many of the stragglers her wayward grandchildren had collected and Hollie had made him see that life could be so much better, if he allowed himself to ask for more.

  No, it wasn’t anger. But his throat was scratchy and his heart hurt and he ached to hold her, to pull her into his arms and never let her run away again.

  “I…” She hesitated. “I told Sawyer I couldn’t tell him why I left without telling you too.” Hollie, the woman who jumped, climbed and danced first, was looking at the toe of her boot with rapt fascination
and avoiding eye contact. “I can’t tell you without telling him too.”

  Cade dropped her hand and turned away from her, but before he got far, Hollie grabbed his arm. The movement brought them even closer together and it made his heart beat for an entirely different reason now, one that had nothing to do with anger or sadness and everything to do with the primal lust that this woman had inspired in him all those years ago, and continued to inspire within him now.

  God, she had grown even more beautiful with the passing of time, with the memories and adventures that sparkled behind those bright blue eyes, with the way her smart mouth had become even smarter and her body more her own, lithe and muscled and full. Cade was extremely aware of how full, of how her breasts plumped against her jacket, of how her round, delectable ass filled out a pair of unflattering cargo pants like it was God’s own plan.

  “I’m not asking for forgiveness,” Hollie said, her voice breathy and a soft hint of pink rising up the smooth column of her neck to stain those pretty cheeks. “I’m just going to say that I made young, foolish decisions. And I regret them.” She slid her hand up his arm and brought it to rest on his cheek. Her fingers were somehow at once rough and smooth, slightly calloused around the edges, but beautiful for it. “I regret hurting you, Cade. Not a day goes by when I don’t.”

  “Then why haven’t you come back?” he managed, trying oh so hard to focus on this oh-so-important conversation and not the way her simplest touch made him practically animalistic with need. She was touching his face, for God’s sake, and yet his cock was throbbing in anticipation and pure, unadulterated heat was coursing through his body at her proximity. She was so close, close enough that if he just leaned down, he could take what she was offering up with those full pink lips and finish what they had started all those years ago.

  “I was scared,” she admitted.

  Cade shook his head. “Hollie Callihan doesn’t get scared of anything,” he murmured. “I’ve seen you take on black diamond slopes like they’re bunny hills.”