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“Quiet is good,” Becca said, following him up the stairs. “How bad is Wyatt’s leg?”
“I don’t know,” Griz said, leading Becca into a small room that was mostly just a bed with a tiny nightstand next to it. A door led to an even smaller bathroom adjoining the bedroom.
“Well, I’m sure Kate will do what she can,” Becca said, holding her arms closely around her chest. “I’m glad you’re okay. Did I say that already? I might have said that already. I’m a little freaked out.”
Griz fell to a seat on the bed and cradled his head in his hands. “I’m such an asshole.”
“What are you talking about?”
“This is all my fault,” he said. “I’m such an idiot.”
“Don’t say that, okay?” Becca said. “People make mistakes. Nobody’s perfect.”
“My dad wouldn’t have made this mistake.”
“Would you stop it?” Becca said. “Please?”
“Stop what?”
“Look, I like your dad,” Becca said. “I do. He’s like a large, strangely wise grizzly bear. But he’s not perfect. Nobody is.”
Griz didn’t have anything to say to that. He stared at the floor, lost in his guilt.
“Look at me, Griz,” Becca said. “Nobody goes through life making no mistakes. You did what you thought you had to, what you thought was best.”
“Kate hates me,” Griz said. “And she should.”
“Don’t,” Becca said. “She doesn’t hate you. She’s upset because someone she cares about got hurt. That’s a scary thing to have to worry about. That’s why I was avoiding you after Boomer got shot. At first it was because it was all my fault…”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“Shut up for a second, Chewie. After that, I was avoiding you because… I didn’t want to have to worry that something was going to happen to you, too.”
“Really?” Griz said.
“When you got shot through the door at the motel…” Becca said, shaking her head as if she didn’t even want to think about it. “I thought you were dead.”
“I was fine, though.”
“But I didn’t know that,” she said. “And after Boomer was shot, I started thinking about what it would feel like if you got hurt like that, and I just didn’t want to face that about someone I care about.”
That brought him to a stop.
“Someone you care about?” he said.
“Yes, okay?” she said. “Yes. You and your stupid flannel and your stupid beard. I was worried about you.”
To someone else, that might have sounded a little passive-aggressive, but to Griz, the words Becca just spoke were like poetry. He’d been back and forth with wondering about what was going on between the two of them and now, now it was starting to sound like things were going his way.
“Does that mean that night at the cabin…” Griz said, choosing his words carefully, “after the motel… does that mean that night… wasn’t just a fluke?”
She didn’t answer him, only looked down at the floor almost shyly. Griz’s heart was pounding, his breath still as he waited for her to answer, and then, she gave a little shrug.
He put a finger under her chin and lifted it slowly, gently, until she was looking up at him. It was now or never, he decided, he had to make his move, and he leaned over to kiss her softly on the lips.
She didn’t pull away.
That kiss seemed to be the final straw, the last bit of pressure that broke the dam. Becca pressed into his arms and kissed him back, no holding back now, no doubts, no half-measures. Her arms wrapped around him at first, then she took his hands and raised them up to cup her breasts as both of their breathing became hotter and faster.
