Small town romance boxed set

by Goodwin, Emily

  They’d remind me I wasn’t alone in this. We’d talk about our highs and our lows. I’d get to tell them more about Nora, and how much better I am when I’m with her. How she can pull me from the clutches of hell, shedding light on my dark world with just one kiss.

  But I can’t, because Wyatt’s dead.

  He was supposed to be better, and I’m sure every guy in the group is wondering the same thing I am. Is there a ticking time bomb inside of me too?

  Chapter 40

  Nora

  “Morning,” I say softly, setting a plate of French toast, scrambles eggs and bacon on the dresser. I didn’t mean to wake Jack, but his eyes opened when I came into the room. He told me he’s on high alert, unable to shut off the part of his brain that tells you if you’re in danger or not.

  We stayed on the balcony for hours last night. I fell asleep snuggled against Jack’s chest, waking at sunset. He was asleep too but woke easily just from me sitting up. We came back into the bedroom, and I tried to stay awake and scratch his back until he fell asleep. I think he fell asleep soon after I did, but I can’t be sure.

  I didn’t get up again until nine-thirty and was able to get out of bed without waking him. Charlie was on Jack’s other side, head pressed against Jack. Some animals are special and can sense things in people without being trained to do so, and Charlie is no exception.

  He knows, and I’m positive Charlie barking last night helped wake Jack up. He wouldn’t leave the bed when I got up in the morning, and his loyalty to Jack pulls on my heart. He’s a damn good dog.

  While breakfast was cooking, I googled PTSD, trying to read everything I could. My freshman year, we covered it in Psych 101 but only briefly. I know there is no getting over PTSD but it can be managed. I’m sure Wyatt’s death is what triggered Jack, and I wish he’d opened up to me yesterday instead of acting like he was okay.

  There’s no shame in not being okay sometimes. I love him. All of him. The good, the bad, and the dark too.

  “Morning,” he replies and sits up. “It’s almost eleven?”

  “Yeah. I suppose I could have made you lunch instead of breakfast, but I know you like bacon.”

  He smiles, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. “I do.”

  I bring the plate and his coffee to the bed and sit next to him. “How are you feeling?”

  “Stupid.”

  “Jack,” I start.

  “Don’t, Nora.” He takes the coffee. I bite my lip and look away, not sure what to say. I can only imagine how it feels, not really knowing the horror it is to live with it.

  “You’re not stupid,” I tell him. He doesn’t respond, and the dynamic between us shifts. I don’t know how to help him, and for the first time, I feel like he doesn’t want my help. Which is exactly why I’m going to keep trying. “How are you feeling?”

  Jack looks at me for half a second. His brown eyes are clouded with anger. It’s easier to feel angry. It’s hard to deal with the raw painful emotions he wished would have faded. I wish it would fade. I wish I could take it all away.

  “Tired.”

  “Do you want to lay back down after you eat?”

  “No,” he says sharply. Then he closes his eyes and sighs. “I won’t be able to sleep. Or I think I won’t. I don’t want to have another nightmare.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  “I know.” He turns to me and I lean in, kissing him gently on the lips. He puts his coffee on the nightstand and takes me in his arms.

  “Does talking about it help?”

  “Sometimes.” He twists a strand of my hair around his fingers. “I want to forget and live a normal life. I hate how mad I am all the time. I had normal.”

  “We’ll find a new normal. We had it before, and we can find it again.”

  “Yeah. We did.” He lets out a breath and I feel him relax. “I love you, Nora, and I don’t want you to feel like you can’t do what you want because of me.”

  “I am doing what I want.”

  He takes my face in his hands, lowering his forehead to mine. “If you want to go back to Berkeley and take the internship, you should. It’ll fucking suck to not be able to kiss you every day, but we’ll make it work.”

  “I know we’ll make it work, but I don’t want to go back.”

  “Why not? It seems like a good opportunity.”

  I twist toward him, hooking my leg over his. “There’s no guarantee they’ll even hire me once the internship is over, and maybe it’s pretentious of me to say, but I don’t want to be an intern. I want to try to get an actual job. I have an actual degree now, after all.”

  “That’s a good reason. But they will pay for you to go back to school.”

  “If I get a job,” I remind him. “And honestly, the thought of going back to school gives me a bit of anxiety.” I look up at him, smiling. “I think you remember I’m a bit Type-A when it comes to academics.”

  “A bit?” His lips pull into a smile. “I very vividly remember you making me study on a snow day. Mostly because my dad almost walked in on us having sex, but also because you were hardcore about math.”

  “I still am. Which is why taking a break is sounding better and better. Being back made me realize how much I miss this place. I have a home here. Stephanie and Doug are my legal parents and would be over the moon happy if I came back here. And there is you. You’re kind of a big deal to me, you know. You always have been.”

  “I know.” His dark eyes meet mine. “As long as your happy, Nora. That’s all I ever wanted, and I don’t want you to sacrifice your full potential for me.”

  He’s been hurting for so long and won’t hesitate to put himself through more pain if he thinks it’ll make my life better. “That’s what love is,” I whisper. “It’s not just a feeling. It’s an action. It’s making sacrifices and putting each other's needs before your own. It’s letting go and welcoming the free fall into the unknown. You have no idea where you’re going to land but you trust it will be a good place because anywhere with the person you love is a good place.”

  Jack strides forward and takes me in his arms. “You are my good place.”

  Chapter 41

  Jack

  “I’m going to miss this.”

  I pull the covers over us and cuddle up with Nora. “Me too.” Nora rests her head on my chest and traces circles around the scar on my side. “One day without touching you is one too many.”

  “There’s always phone sex,” she says. Nora has to leave tomorrow and go back to work. Her plan is to put in her two-week notice and come back home. Two weeks without her is going to be borderline unbearable.

  It’s late now, and Nora should be sleeping since she has a long drive ahead of her, but we both needed each other one more time. We spent a few hours hanging out at the cabin, then went out in the trails. We stuck to the ones I’m familiar with and got back after dark. We ate dinner, showered, and crashed into bed.

  I smile. “You’ll have to FaceTime me if we’re doing that.”

  “Okay.”

  “Really?”

  She lifts her head up. “Yeah. But I expect to see something on your end too.”

  I kiss the side of her head. It’d be easy to put what happened behind us and pretend I’m over it. I tried to explain it to her like a scab had been scraped off. Blood oozes out fast at first, then slows, and a new scab forms.

  Most of the time, scabs become scars. With PTSD, the last stage never fully happens, and I’m always at risk for having the scab ripped off again.

  And again.

  And again.

  It will happen. Probably without warning. But I won’t have to stop the bleeding alone anymore.

  “You should sleep,” I say, wrapping my arms tightly around her. “You have a lot of driving to do tomorrow.”

  “I know.” I’m tired, and she has to be too. I trail my nails up and down her back, and soon enough, we both drift to sleep for several hours before I wake up, missing Nora already.

  Nora’s facing
the balcony, knees slightly bent, pushing her ass against my cock. I spoon myself around her, lips going to the back of her neck. She groans softly, unable to resist being kissed there. It’s her Kryptonite.

  She arches her back, rubbing her ass against my dick. Only wearing panties and a tank top. I sweep my hand down her body, feeling her pert nipples through her thin shirt, and part her legs. She lifts her ass off the bed, letting me strip her, then reaches behind and pushes my boxers off.

  I rub her clit while still kissing her neck. She moves from her side to her back, legs falling wide. I prop myself up, kissing her hard, and then move down. There’s nothing gentle about the way I touch her, and the rough desperation turns Nora on.

  My tongue lashes out against her, tracing her clit. Pleasure shoots through her, making her muscles contract, getting ready for what's to come. I slip a finger inside, going right for her g-spot. I suck and kiss her pussy while fingering her.

  She slits her eyes open and looks down, watching me pleasure her in the moonlight. My movements are fast but deliberate. I open my eyes getting off on her watching. With a growl, I nip at her tender flesh, and the shock of slight pain sends her over the edge.

  “Don’t stop,” she pants, reaching out to take a handful of my hair. “Oh…my…God.” She throws her head back, shuddering from pleasure. Her pussy contracts wildly around my fingers and my mouth is still on her. She tries to squirm away, pushing my head back.

  I pull my hand back and slide both under her ass, bringing her core back to my face. I lift her off the mattress, leaving her powerless to push me away. Relentless, I keep working, licking, sucking, and kissing her sensitive clit until she comes again. Her mouth falls open and she loudly moans. Her entire body reacts, and warmth spills from her.

  I lay her back down. She’s riding high, hardly aware of what’s going on around her. I put a condom on and move between her legs.

  Feebly, she brings an arm around me. I fuck her hard, grunting with each thrust until I come. My cock pulses inside her. Panting hard, I rest my head against her.

  “Sorry to wake you,” I pant.

  “Don’t be. I’ll wake up to that any day.”

  I kiss her forehead. “I needed you one more time before you go.” I pull out and go into the bathroom to throw the condom away. Nora reaches for me when I come back to bed, snuggling close with her head on my shoulder. I wrap her in the blanket, wanting to watch her sleep, soaking up every last second we have together.

  The plan is for her to come back, but for some reason, I have a sinking feeling her departure is permanent.

  Chapter 42

  Nora

  “Binxy boy!” I drop my bag to the ground and crouch down. My old black cat meows and trots over, big belly swinging. He sniffs me, rubs his head against my hand, then hisses. “Thanks. I missed you too.”

  I do smell like dog. And probably sex. Both scents on me are new to him. Yawning, I stand. It’s after midnight, and I’m exhausted from the drive. I left a lot later than I planned and got stuck in traffic.

  “Becca?” I drop my keys in the decorative bowl on the entryway table. Technically, we don’t have an entryway. The door opens into the living room, which connects to the small kitchen and eating area. There are two bedrooms and one bathroom, and after a week of being at the Kellers’ and Jack’s, the apartment seems extra small.

  Becca’s bedroom door is closed, and I have no idea if she’s is there sleeping or not. Some nights she’s in bed by nine. Others, she’s out until three AM. You never know with her. I stand outside her door and send her a text, telling her I’m home. I don’t hear her phone sound from inside her room, so I assume she’s out.

  I drag my bag into my room, thankful Stephanie did all my laundry before I left. I get my stuff put away by the time Becca texts me back, saying she’s out with Liam and will be home soon. Soon could be anywhere from five minutes to another hour, so I reply and tell her I’m going to shower and go to bed.

  Normally, when I’d return after a visit home to Dale Hollow, my bed here in the apartment is so welcome and comfy. But not now. I miss Jack with my whole heart, and I hate how we left things unsettled.

  He asked me to call him when I got into town so he’d know I made the drive okay. We talked not long ago, but our conversation was cut short when he got an email from the publisher, moving up a deadline on one of the covers Jack was working on from the end of the week to tomorrow. He guessed he had at least eight hours of work left to do on it, which makes me appreciate the cover art on books so much more.

  I’m opening at the coffee shop tomorrow, and I’m dreading getting up early. Knowing I need to fall asleep now to avoid feeling dead tired stresses me out, making it harder to fall asleep. I can’t stop thinking about Jack. As much as I feel for him for the sudden tight deadline, knowing he’ll be up most the night and not lying alone in bed is oddly comforting.

  I toss and turn for a while, missing the feel of his body against mine. I’m too tired to be horny at the moment, but I know I’ll be missing the feeling of his hands all over my body and his big cock between my legs soon enough.

  It feels like only seconds passed between falling asleep and my alarm going off. I hit snooze three times, dragging my ass out of bed when the sheer panic of I only have fifteen minutes to get ready hits.

  Becca’s door is open, and I can see her in bed. Sleeping. I narrow my eyes with jealousy. I want to be back in my bed right now. I get dressed, throw my hair into a messy braid, put concealer over the dark circles under my eyes, and head out the door. The good thing about working in a coffee shop is always having coffee readily available in the mornings. And this morning, I’m going to need a lot.

  The day drags on, and I check my phone every chance I get. When I haven’t heard from Jack by ten-thirty, I figure he was up all night and is still asleep. I tell myself the same at noon. When I clock out at two o’clock and still haven’t heard from him, a ball of dread forms in my stomach.

  Not that something necessarily bad happened to him, but he went back to thinking I’m better off without him. If that’s the case, I don’t know who I should be more pissed off with: myself or him.

  I knew what I was getting myself into. I knew the dangers and the risks of loving a man with a dark and harrowed past. Yet there is nothing else I can do with Jack besides love him.

  There’s still a chance he worked all night, crashed, and had to get right back to the computer, painstakingly drawing the incredibly detailed mermaid scales one by one. I want to give him the benefit of the doubt even though deep down, I know I shouldn’t.

  I call as I walk from the coffee shop to the apartment and get his voicemail.

  “Hey,” I say to the machine. “I miss you, and I hope you got everything done on time. Call me when you can. I love you.” After double checking my phone isn’t on silent anymore, I stick it back in my purse and tell myself not to obsessively check. I’ll hear if Jack calls.

  When Jack calls.

  I get back to the apartment and find Becca and Liam lounging on the couch. I change into sleeper shorts and a T-shirt, then join them, binging on vegan cookie dough and last season’s The Bachelor. They ask about Jack and we all gush over him. Now, if only he’d call me back…

  Two episodes later, I get up to use the bathroom and call Jack again. He doesn’t answer, and this time I don’t leave a message. He’s just busy. Maybe working. Maybe sleeping. Or maybe he went hiking. The cell service at the cabin is spotty. On the trails it’s nonexistent.

  “What’s the plan for dinner?” Becca asks. “Ever since Nicole mentioned the new Taco Bar last night, it’s like all I can think about.”

  “Girl, me too.” Liam sets the cookie dough down. “I can try to get us a reservation. It’s not a weekend so we might get lucky.”

  “Nora?” All eyes fall on me.

  “Yeah. I never say no to tacos.”

  Liam’s able to get us a table at six, which doesn’t give us much time to get ready. Liam leaves
, needing to go home to shower and change.

  “Do you need to wash your hair?” Becca asks me.

  “No, I did last night. Though I think my braid smells like coffee. I splashed a mocha all over myself today.”

  “I was trying to figure out what that good smell was,” Becca laughs. “I do need to wash my hair. I haven’t in a few days. Or shaved.”

  “Go. You take longer than me to get ready anyway.”

  “Guilty. Hey, can I contour your face?”

  “Please do!” I love when Becca does my makeup. She makes me look flawless.

  “I was kind of thinking about starting a makeup YouTube channel, actually,” she says slowly, unsure of herself. “Is that stupid?”

  “No, not at all. I’ve watched hours of makeup tutorials—and I still never look half as good—but I love them. Lots of people do. And you’re so good at makeup you’d rock it.”

  “Thanks. I’d start it for fun, of course, and just see where it goes. I’ll set a moisturizer out for you to use after you wash your face,” she says and then goes into the bathroom. I lean back on the couch and make it through the end of the current episode before I grab my phone. I’m checking the time, not if I somehow missed another call or text from Jack.

  I didn’t.

  “What’s going on, Jack?” I whisper, closing my eyes. “Just call. Please.”

  My phone rings. What the heck? It’s like I made it happen. I know by the ringtone it’s not Jack. Crystal plays when he calls. I don’t know the number, but I do recognize the area code to be from Dale Hollow. My hands shake, and every bad scenario plays out in my head.

  “Hello?” I answer.

  “Hi, is Nora available?”

  “This is her.”

  “Hi, Nora, this is Karen Young.”

  I blink, hand flying to my heart. Jack hasn’t been mauled by bears. “Oh, hi. How are you?”

  She laughs. “You sound surprised.”