Page 78 of Taken Away

He moved away toward a group near the far side of the terrace, leaving a different kind of silence behind them—one edged with the creeping reminder that Blackwood was still being circled by something dangerous.

Aubrey looked back toward the courthouse, her bare arms shivering slightly in the cooling air. “So the deputies are patrolling because of my possibly imaginary porch ghost.”

Bennett’s voice went flat, stripped of the earlier playfulness. “It wasn’t imaginary.”

She turned her head sharply, her green eyes wide. The night breeze crashed between them. He didn’t look away.

“You believed me?”

“I found the print, Aubrey. I told you it could’ve been a dog.”

“You lied.”

“Yeah.” Bennett turned fully, stepping into her orbit, crowding her back against the rooftop railing until she was trapped between the iron bars and the solid, radiating heat of his frame. His head dipped, his shadow swallowing her. “You were scared. It was late. You were already one bad night away from packing your bags and burning rubber out of the valley. I wasn’t going to give you another reason.”

Aubrey stared up at him, her chest rising and falling beneath her cream blazer. Anger should have come first, but under the heavy intensity of his gaze, it evaporated into pure electricity.

“You lied to protect me?”

“I lied to keep you from panicking.”

She studied his profile in the rooftop light—the fierce line of his jaw, the raw, protective weight of his body leaning over hers. “You could have told me,” she whispered, her mouth parting slightly.

“I should have.” Bennett exhaled slowly, his breath warm against her bare lips, destroying the last of her defenses. He slid one hand out of his pocket, his rough, calloused fingers wrapping slowly around the back of her neck, his thumb lifting her chin so she had no choice but to look at him. His voice dropped into a rough, devastating growl. “I’m not good at this.”

“At what?” she breathed.

The answer hung heavy and agonizingly thick between them. He looked down at her mouth, his thumb tracing the soft line of her lower lip, his breathing turning ragged as he fought for control. The hunger in his eyes left little doubt where his thoughts had gone.

Instead, he let out a low, frustrated growl, his thumb giving one final, heavy pressure against her lip before he slowly dropped his hand, his voice pure gravel. “Being responsible for someone who doesn’t listen.”

Aubrey let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, her heart hammering against her ribs. “I listen.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I selectively process.”

“That sounds corporate.”

“It is.”

His mouth curved, the dangerous tension breaking enough for her to breathe again. For several seconds, they stood side by side, his arm still lightly brushing hers, watching the lights come on across the valley.

“For what it’s worth,” she said quietly, her inner wrist still tingling as her pulse raced, “I had a good time tonight.”

Bennett didn’t answer right away. When he finally did, his voice was rougher, carrying an absolute, heavy resonance that vibrated straight through her.

“Yeah.” He looked over, his gold-flecked eyes locking onto hers one final time in the dark. “Me too.”

The simple admission moved through her with the force of a physical blow. No kiss, no touch—just that. Me too. And somehow, it felt more dangerous than both.

County Road 107

Returning to Blackwood

Bennett steered onto County Road 107, the glowing lights of Sylva shrinking in the rearview mirror.

Aubrey was still talking. Something about Savannah and Chloe and their complete inability to mind their own business.