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She stared at him—not at his eyes, but at, he thought, his nose. “There’s shit going on I’ve got to deal with.”
“I know. I want to help.” He figured she was only talking about the boar, but he meant more than that.
“You have helped—and thank you.” Those last two words seemed to register more deeply with her, and Duncan actually saw her pull out of her head. Her eyes came up to his. When she spoke again, even her voice was more focused. “Sorry. I’m sorry. There’s a lot on my mind. But I am happy you’re here and really thankful for the help—and no, I didn’t change my mind.”
“Good. Can I kiss you now?”
She nodded, and he pulled her into his arms. When he bent and put his mouth over hers, she sighed softly, and her hand swept up his arms and around his neck. Duncan changed the kiss and took her into the deeps with him.
This was right. He couldn’t define the difference he felt with Phoebe in his arms, except for that: he knew this was right. Not just enjoyable. Not just hot. Right.
Then a spasm went through her, and she pulled away. When Duncan looked down at her, he saw that her eyes had blurred with unshed tears.
“Hey,” he murmured as a drop slipped from its bounds and slid onto her face. He brushed it away with his still-gloved thumb. “It’s okay.”
She shook her head. “It’s not, actually. Things are shit.”
“Margot told me about the what’s going on with the health department.”
Surprise took over her face and was quickly supplanted by anger. “What? Fuck her!”
“I want to try to help. I’m going to ask if the Bulls can maybe do something.”
“Like give me a hundred thousand dollars? Come on, Duncan. That’s nuts—and I don’t want you to do it.”
“Why not? I don’t know if the Bulls can help, or how much they can, but I want to try. If I can help, and you need help, why wouldn’t you let me?”
“We can’t start being together with this between us. There’s no way I can pay back something so huge, the whole problem is I can’t pay for something so huge. So it’s us as a couple or you as a donor. Which do you want?”
Well, that was just plain stupid and self-defeating. He was not about to make that choice. “I want you and to help. There’s no ledger here, Phoebe. You won’t owe me shit. But like I said, I don’t know how much I can do, or the club can do. I just want to ask the question.”
She looked up at him for another few seconds. Then her eyes shifted away from his, and he felt the distance return. “I need to take care of the horses.”
She pulled out of his hold and went to the door. Duncan followed.
They weren’t done, but he’d let her have her distance for now.
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~oOo~
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They got the animals tended to and buttoned up for the night. As they left the stable, the butcher guy was pulling the boar carcass toward his truck on a hand cart, and Vin was closing up the smokehouse or whatever it was.
They all went into the house and shared a meal of hearty beef stew and cornbread.
Duncan liked these people. Even the butcher guy, Terry. The conversation around the table was real—about the boar, about the effects of the storm on properties around the area, about town politics and gossip—and rough around the edges. Everybody ate with gusto and no fuss about the fancier manners.
After the meal, Terry left, and Duncan offered to help Vin clean up. The two men didn’t talk about much beside the work they were doing, until Vin stopped at the sink and turned to face him.
“Be patient with her, man. You might be thinking she’s different from when you met her. She’s not. She’s still Phoebe, and she is good. She’s just scared right now and feeling trapped. It makes her button up tight.”
“I get it.” Duncan considered for a moment, then went ahead and said what he was thinking. “It’s PTSD, right?”
“Yeah. I don’t think anybody in a combat deployment comes back from that mess without it. But she’s got some ... complications, I guess you’d say, because of her injury.”
“You know, I only know one of my brothers in the club who’s diagnosed with it, but it wouldn’t surprise me if half the Bulls have it. Shit gets intense with us, and some of the guys don’t handle it so well. Prickly and moody is like the club personality.”
