Page 25 of Silver Brewer

“Yes, the land,” I yell back at him. Should there be another reason to stay? He isn’t giving me one.

He shakes his head. “You’re delusional.”

“And you’re…you’re standoffish-ish.” It’s a weak retort. I don’t know why I say it. As I’ve mentioned, I’m not good with on-the-spot comebacks.

“I’d keep her if I were you.” I twist to find James leaning against a column holding up the overhang covering the small porch and realize we have an audience.

“Mind your own damn business, James. You’re good at that.” My eyes flicker from James to Giant.

“Seems like he’s not the only one,” I mutter. Stomping around Giant, I head for the path cutting into the woods but then stop and turn back one more time. “And don’t ever treat me like I’m not there again.” I point at the station, reminiscent of the way he and his brother spoke to each other without including me. This is how Hudson would act, as if I wasn’t present, as if I didn’t have an intelligent opinion or couldn’t make a decision. I spin for the path. I don’t even care if I get lost. I just need away from Giant.

Ironically, I find my way back to camp, and it doesn’t seem half as far as it did while we raced through the darkness under rain and thunder. As I see the waterlogged fire pit and the soggy ground around our site, I turn on Giant who’s kept his distance behind me.

“No bathroom?” I huff. “Yet less than a hundred yards off, there is one.” Not to mention a solid roof and a small kitchen, but these things are the least of my ire. My anger festers into a storm of rage. I hate how he treated me like I was invisible. Not introducing me. Acting like nothing happened between us. I also do not like how he’s willing to break our agreement and take me back. Was it only sex to him? Did he not enjoy it like I did?

“And you’d like to traipse a hundred yards to pee?” he questions. “You didn’t seem to mind the woods.” His voice lowers as if the remark surprises him. No, I didn’t complain because I accepted we were roughing it. He wanted to prove something to me, and I…I wanted to prove something to myself, I realize. I wanted to prove I could do this.

“Never mind.” I sigh and shake my head, turning away from him. I scratch at my scalp. My hair is dirty and grimy, and I just want a hot soak and clean sheets and wine. Lots of wine. But not tonight. One more night. I stomp over to the fire pit and sit on an upturned log. I have one more night to survive this hell and rid myself of Giant Harrington once he signs on the line.

Only it hasn’t really been hell. It’s been rather wonderful, if I’m honest. The sexy time. The ax throwing. Even the hot dog roasted over a campfire was pleasant. I’m surprised how much I’ve enjoyed myself. Giant has catered to me in every way—organizing our menu, cooking, and cleanup. He’s trying to encourage me to appreciate the natural environment around us, and I’ve absentmindedly soaked it up. Do I really want to leave him? Why has he done all this? Did he just want sex with me? I hate to think this is the truth, and a bigger question niggles at me. Will he really give up his land after a three-night camping trip?

Giant sets his pack on the ground and rummages through it before pulling out something rolled up and tucked in a small bag. I watch him walk to two trees and clip one end of the material to a hook I hadn’t noticed drilled into the trunk. He crosses to a second tree and fastens the other end of the nylon cloth to a second hook. As he steps back, I notice it’s a hammock.

“You said you read.” The statement startles me. I stare up at him, wondering what this has to do with anything. The tension between us is thicker than the humidity lingering from last night.

“My reader’s in my bag.” Without permission, he rummages through my pack and pulls out my tablet.

“Why don’t you read for a bit? It’s too wet to sit on the ground, and I need to dry everything from last night. I’ll make breakfast.” Now I am curious. What is this behavior? He hands me my e-reader, and I stare after him as he lowers the food from the trap in the tree. I should offer to help, but I don’t want to talk to him. I stand and walk to the hammock.

“Straddle it. Then set your butt down first. It makes it easier to lie back and get your legs in it.” I do as he directs and lounge back. Within a few minutes, my anger dissipates from the sway of the hammock, the whisper of the trees, and a warm breeze. I can’t concentrate on any words in my book, so I stare at them instead. Unfocused. Disappointed.

Why couldn’t sex always be like it was last night? Maybe only random sex can feel so liberating. Then again, if how I’m feeling today is a side effect of random sex, I don’t think my heart can take it. I haven’t been with anyone in a year, and Giant’s behavior is a reminder of why I’ve held back—I’m too emotional to have casual sex. My eyes close with memories of last night. Images of Giant touching me fill my head. His thick fingers. His mouth on my skin. His big dick. He’s a large man, and his private property is proportionate. I’ve never been so full, so satiated, and so at a loss when it was over.

I scratch at my scalp again.

Maybe I’m destined never to understand men. Hudson was closed off, unobtainable even when physically present. Why can’t I have a man who can be affectionate?

“Breakfast is ready.” His voice should startle me, but I’ve learned to listen for his quiet movements. I’m not hungry, but I roll from the hammock, nearly turning all the way over and falling to the ground. Giant catches me, but I shrug off his touch. “I got it.”

I stalk to the fire pit and sit. Fried eggs and corned beef hash—I haven’t had such a breakfast since I was a kid. The combination reminds me of my dad, and I suddenly feel lonelier than ever.

“My dad died when I was a kid, so I don’t remember much about him, but this was his favorite breakfast.” I don’t know why I tell Giant this tidbit. You’re filling the empty spaces.

“I’m sorry. About your dad.” Giant says, staring down at the meal in the skillet. He doesn’t add anything more, and we fall into awkward silence, and for once, I don’t feel the need to chatter and fill the quiet.

11

Silence is too quiet.

[Giant]

I can’t handle her silence.

For the talker she is, she hasn’t spoken since breakfast. In such a short time, her constant chatter has grown on me, and I miss the noise. The hum of life she whispers no matter what she’s saying. The chirping beat she stimulates in my quiet heart. I didn’t realize how empty my world felt until this vibrant woman entered the place I hold most sacred. My land.

She’s only here for the land, I remind myself, but she certainly seemed upset about last night.

We had sex, she blurted, but those brilliant blue eyes were filled with hurt. The expression surprised me. Did she not want to have sex with me? Did I force her? Did I go too far? Her adventurous spirit tells me I didn’t, so why did she look so offended? Was it only because I suggested we return to the cabin? Did she want something more from me? Other than my land, I can’t imagine what I could offer her.