Fearless Read online

  “It’s freezing like it’s gonna snow.” She pulls the quilt up to her chin, snuggling underneath it.

  “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.”

  She snorts. “Well, it’s your fault.”

  I try to keep that in mind, her perfume already making my head fuzzy when I go to back out, then turn around to pull out of her driveway.

  “So…” She’s all devilish red lips and thick black eyelashes, with a naughty little sense of adventure that is way too damn tempting. “Where are we really going?”

  My grin is so big it feels like my face is gonna break in half, and I tighten my hands on the steering wheel, growling over all my best-worst ideas. There’s an entire world of possibilities before me with the open road ahead, and damn, I don’t want to do the right thing. I want to do the fun one.

  But that’s not what this is about, second first date or not, and she deserves better from me than that. I promised her I wouldn’t pull nothing stupid. No matter how much I may wanna.

  “I told you, honey. It’s Christmas Eve, and we’re going to Christmas service. Just like your parents are doing, and my parents are doing, and practically the whole darn town, because that’s what country people do.”

  Taryn grits out a frustrated huff and throws her hands up. “Fine. Take me to church!”

  And yeah, I probably shouldn’t have laughed at her for doing that. At least not that hard anyway. But that’s what Taryn and I do—we bicker, and we dance, and we laugh and laugh.

  It’s how we love. It always has been, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.

  * * *

  “It’s so good to see you, honey,” my mama says for the dozenth time, hugging Taryn in the parking lot outside the chapel.

  My father shifts his weight again, gnawing his toothpick into sawdust and looking at me like I’m next. His normal amount of patience has long since been chewed up, but he’s finding some extra for me considering the situation. The hour service has been done for nearly fifteen minutes, but Mama and Taryn have been talking inside since we were dismissed with our last amen, and we’ve been freezing our nuts off outside waiting for them. Mason, too.

  “I’ve missed you, too, Mrs. King.” Taryn’s already shivering from the cold, but when she pulls back, she looks like she really meant that.

  My mama cups her cheeks between her hands. “We’ll talk soon, okay?”

  Taryn nods, and I reach out to lay a light hand on her lower back. “You ready?”

  My mama lets her go and steps back, her hands tipped in prayer against her mouth. Why is she always acting like we’re all dying?

  Taryn peeks up at me, so much warmth in her eyes that now I’m dying to know what she and Mama talked about. But fat chance on her ever telling me. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

  “Sir,” I say to my father, waiting until I get my nod to go before I start leading Taryn to my truck. We don’t get far.

  “Taryn, I’m…”

  I pivot at my brother’s timid voice, finding him staring at the gravel and holding his stomach like he doesn’t feel good. Taryn’s shoulders drop, and before I can ask what’s going on, she slips away from me and walks straight toward him, stopping in front of Mason, who still isn’t meeting her eyes.

  She lays a hand on his arm. “Thank you for your letter.”

  My parents and I share surprised looks. Mason wrote a letter? To Taryn?

  “What you wrote meant a lot to me, and I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said. And I…I do forgive you, Mason. I want you to know that.” She squeezes his arm, ducking her head a little. “You’re a really good writer, by the way.”

  His head drops a little lower before he looks up at her. Cracks just a touch of a smile, then touches his hat. “Merry Christmas, Taryn.”

  I’m still stunned as anything when he starts shuffling off, hands in the pockets of his jacket. My father looks my way—Mama, too—since they still don’t know the details of what split me and Taryn up. Only that I screwed up the best thing that ever happened to me. They definitely don’t know Mason’s right smack-dab in the middle of it, and I’d much rather keep it that way.

  I look quickly to Taryn, who’s smiling like she’s feeling ten pounds lighter as she takes my outstretched hand and lets me lead her to my truck before they start asking too many questions.

  “Cold?” I ask her, gravel crunching under her high heels and the moonlight sparkling off her earrings. It’s not far to my parked truck, but that dress isn’t much, and I’m happy to hand over my jacket if need be.

  “I’m okay.” She beams up at me, her hand warm in mine. She spent the whole hour with my hand cradled in both of hers and keeping them on her lap as we listened and prayed and sang soft hymns that I don’t know all the words to, but she does. “It was a beautiful service.”

  “Yeah, it was,” I agree, taking out my keys.

  “Lot about forgiveness.”

  I chuckle, nodding. “Yeah, that tends to happen around Christmas.”

  Taryn squints at me. “Thought that was normally Easter?”

  I choke and cough through my laughter, opening up the passenger door for her. “I don’t actually know, honey,” I admit as she gets in. “I hardly make it up here save once a year, seems like.”

  She squeaks and points at me, and I wink as I playfully shut the door in her face.

  Sucker…

  I can still hear her laughing as I stroll around my tailgate, tossing my keys in my hand with all the vindication of winning a long, tough race. And when I open my door and get in, Taryn’s already snuggled under the quilt my grandma sewed for me when I was little and got the chicken pox. It isn’t the prettiest blanket, considering it’s old and well used, but all the patches of my granddaddy’s Wrangler and Levi blue jeans make it real heavy and warm, and it’s my favorite on cold nights like this one.

  I start my sputtering engine, praying the heater won’t take all damn night to get warmed up. Should’ve just left it running during the hour service if I was being smart about it. Maybe Mason’s right and heated seats are worth more than what you pay for them. But Taryn doesn’t seem to mind my old truck, never really has.

  When I pull out of the parking lot of the church, she’s looking so damn content that I’m nearly melted with how much I’ve missed the simple sound of her breathing next to me as I drive. Screw it. I reach over and take her hand, something flooding her eyes that almost looks like the sparkle of tears but in a really, really good way.

  It only spurs me on more, and I thread my fingers through hers and squeeze, bringing them up to press a kiss to the back of her hand because I can’t keep it in—how much I love her and have missed her and how much I’m ready to start over. The right way. For all the right reasons.

  She lets out a breath toward the windshield that’s thick with everything I’m feeling and all we aren’t saying. But at least I know she feels it, too.

  * * *

  It’s not a long drive back to her house, but by the time I pull up, Taryn’s whole side is pressed to mine on the bench seat, her head on my shoulder. I’m not ready for the night to end. Not by a long shot.

  I put my truck into Park with heavy clicks of my gearshift, sitting back and turning down the Christmas music playing on the radio, though it wasn’t playing that loud to start with. Taryn snuggles a little deeper into my side, and I tip my head against hers as she starts smoothing her palm against mine, kinda playing with my fingers and how they fit between hers. I can’t resist a smile. I missed her hands, too. I missed everything about her.

  “Do we have to go inside right away?” she whispers.

  “Nah, honey. We don’t have to go inside.”

  She holds onto me a little tighter, and I can barely think around the pull between us. She smells so damn good, all I want is to wrap her in my arms. It’s been weeks since she’s hugged me, and I can’t surviv
e that way. I need her hugs.

  “I got you something,” I whisper, my heart starting to race from all I’m about to set in motion. But there’s no future I want that doesn’t have her in it, front and center.

  Taryn starts breathing a little harder, squeezing my hand before she looks up at me, her eyes searching mine. She’s nervous, but she’s brave, too, and I’m so damn lucky that the latter always wins with her. “Okay,” she says. “I’m ready.”

  I unbuckle my seat belt and open my door, getting out and waving at her to follow. She gives me a curious smile and gets out a second later, leaving her door open so the light stays on and the radio is drifting out, but that’s fine.

  I lay down the tailgate, peeling back the tarp and unstrapping the cardboard box big enough for a giant beach ball, then slide it her way. Taryn’s got a line twisting above her eyebrows, but there’s a smile brewing in the corner of her mouth as she tucks her shiny hair behind her ear. “What’s this?”

  “Open it.”

  She’s fully beaming now as she unfolds the top and stretches up to peek inside, then tilts her head at me. “Strips of paper?”

  I nod slowly, like that will somehow explain how long that took me. “Lots of little strips of paper.”

  Taryn swoons my way like I gave her a box of puppies. “What do they say?”

  I take a breath, looking deep into her beautiful blue eyes, and try to calm my nerves. This is my moment, and I gotta do this right. We’re gonna remember this night forever.

  “They’re all my lies,” I tell her, my voice soft and full of all the love I feel. “Every lie I ever told; all the ones I could remember. Big ones, small ones. Stupid ones, and important ones. They’re all there. And I’m giving them to you. I don’t need them anymore.”

  She looks to the box, reaching in and pulling out a handful. Pride starts warming me from hat to boots as she lifts them up, then lets them slip through her fingers like sand.

  Slowly, I start to smile.

  Until Taryn looks back at me, her eyes simmering with disappointment. “Is this your big important thing?” she asks quietly.

  Uh-oh.

  “I mean, after everything we’ve been through, this is what you’re giving me tonight? Haven’t I had enough lies from you?” Her voice breaks, nose getting red, and shit, she’s not gonna cry, is she? She takes the first hasty swipe at her face, and Ground Control, we got a big problem.

  “I don’t know?” I don’t even know how this happened. I thought this was the right thing—the thing we needed.

  “Billy, I don’t understand,” she says, and yeah, that makes two of us. “You said we were gonna go on a date, and you take me to church? I’m not that kind of girl. I’ve never been that kind of girl, you know that… And now you give me this box of lies? Damn it, Billy. When you said you had a big important thing planned for us, a way to start over and take the next steps forward, I thought that meant you were gonna propose to me tonight.”

  I rock back like she just clocked me square across the jaw.

  She thought what?

  Taryn’s hands fly to her mouth, so that was maybe not the right reaction.

  “Well…” Is there still air in the world? I check to make sure my stiff new boots are on the ground. Yep. I look up at Taryn, dizzy. “Were you gonna say yes?”

  She doesn’t answer—other than to turn away and hide her face in her hands, her shoulders trembling like she’s definitely crying now, and I don’t know how this can get any worse. We’re right up there with her birthday.

  Kicker of the whole thing is she’s completely right, again. I should’ve fucking proposed. My great-grandma’s art deco ring in pocket or not, the second I saw her in that red dress, I should’ve dropped to my knee—both knees—and asked her to marry me.

  Christ, I am a jackass.

  “Taryn…” I slowly walk up behind her, scared to spook her, but I can’t do nothing when she’s this upset and it’s my fault. She also isn’t walking back into her house yet, which means I need to get my ass in gear before she does. “Honey, I’m…I didn’t know you were there yet,” I whisper as I stop behind her. “You’re not even taking my calls right now.”

  She sniffles. “Like that even means anything. We still spend every single day together.” Her voice is all raspy and choked, and I’m more confused than ever now, but that’s pretty much par for the course.

  I debate whether to rest a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

  She whirls around and buries her face in my shirt, gripping my jacket with both her fists and trembling from top to bottom. I blink, still scared to touch her.

  “I’ve missed you,” she whimpers, and oh goddamn it, I’m never gonna unhear that. It’s gonna haunt me for the rest of my life.

  I try not to sigh out loud as my arms come around her, tucking her into me as tight as possible and doing my best to get her warm, and I feel like such a jerk. Especially with how much I’m loving having her against me again, even though she’s just crying and crying away, holding onto me for dear life. But I’ve missed her, too, more than I knew it was ever possible to miss a person, even when you were still working out with them every day.

  “I know, honey, I know.” I take deep breaths in the hope she’ll take some, too, and wait for the heat from my body to soak into hers. I rest my cheek against her shiny hair, breathing in summer peaches and soothing lavender, but I don’t steal a kiss, even to her temple.

  “I’ve been so mad at you,” she whispers, and I nod, because I know she has been. “But I still love you, Billy.”

  I nearly crumble from how much I needed to hear that. “God, Taryn. I love you.”

  She snuggles a little closer under my chin, hugging her arms around me instead of clinging straight to my shirt, and I hope she isn’t planning on letting go soon. I’ll stand out here all night holding her if she’ll let me.

  “I don’t know what to do,” she says.

  I consider that for a second, thinking over all the things I want to do, which ones she may be okay with and which ones she definitely won’t be, and then I get it—I know what to do. It’s so damn simple, I should’ve thought of it five minutes ago.

  Reaching behind me, I find one of her hands on my lower back. I tuck my thumb into the middle of her palm, holding on, and then I start to move, just a little bit, from side to side, barely more than rocking her. But in time to the Christmas music playing on my radio and drifting out the open passenger door of my truck.

  Taryn’s chest moves kinda funny, almost like she’s laughing to herself. But she slides her other hand up to cling to my shoulder, and she starts to move with me, letting me lead her.

  I smile secretly with my cheek to her hair where she can’t see. She’s breathing normally now, swaying with me to old singers whose names I don’t know, but I know the melodies to their songs. I risk a simple spin, letting her out under my arm so she twirls a bit and remembers how pretty I think she is, even if I’m not allowed to tell her, Taryn kinda smiling at me as she slowly spins back in.

  “This wasn’t what I meant,” she says, still half smiling with her hand on my shoulder, mine on her lower back, and our other ones tangling together over my heart as I keep us dancing as long as I can. “I meant I don’t know where we go from here.”

  I consider that, too, along with the snowflakes I think I saw drifting down and settling on the red fabric of her dress. “Well, how about inside?”

  Taryn chuckles, stopping us and letting me go, reaching up to wipe at her face. “No.”

  “No?” I tease, helping wipe away some of the mascara from her cheek. I’m always ruining her best makeup. I don’t know why she’s always forgiving me for it, either. But I sure am thankful.

  “No,” she says again, firmer. “I’m still kind of mad at you.”

  “Great,” I mutter under my breath, which based on Taryn’
s face was definitely the wrong thing to say. But since we’re being honest… “Look, how long is all this gonna take?”

  Her jaw lands somewhere on the ground starting to turn white with snow, a shocked little squeak popping from her throat right before she starts ripping me apart. “You want me to give you a date? Like on the calendar? Well, sorry, I don’t have my planner with me, so I’ll have to get back to you with the future time and place of our reunion! Why are you even asking me this? You in some kind of rush? Got a deadline?”

  “Well,” I barge in, because I know from experience she can keep going for a while, “considering we’re leaving for work in a few weeks and I’m not gonna see you…yeah, kinda.”

  Taryn shakes her head at me, right back to being nothing but frustrated and acting like she wasn’t literally crying over missing me two damn seconds ago. “Can’t rush this, Billy.”

  “No, I know that. I just… God, Taryn, I miss you. And I’m trying, honey. I’m really trying to fix this. I’m doing everything I can think of, everything I know to do.”

  Her eyes drop to my new boots, her bare shoulders dusted with snowflakes. “I know you are.”

  “So what do I do next, huh? What’s my next move here? I backed off, I gave you time, and I’ll give you more, but I just… I don’t understand when one minute, I can’t call you, and the next, you wanna get married. So how do we get from here to there? Because every step I take seems to be the wrong one, and you’re not exactly making it easy.”

  She takes a fast step toward me, her palms warm on my chest and her Aunt Sylvie’s ruby ring sparkling under the moonlight. “Whoa, honey, slow down,” she says, her perfume already working to calm my temper as she looks up into my eyes. “You’re right, okay? I haven’t been making it easy, but I swear I’m not doing it on purpose, and I’m sorry, Billy. I really am. And tonight getting messed up? That was my fault, okay? You didn’t…you did everything right. I know I have a problem with putting…” She swallows before her next words like they’re thick as honey. “Unreasonable expectations and demands on you.”