Bearly Hanging On (The Jamesburg Shifters #6)(27)

There was sadness in her voice. Genuine upset. "Yeah," Ryan said, again gruff and cold and she couldn't blame him. "Well, let's not talk about what I will or won't regret, then, yeah? This is year six since my aunt and uncle came out here, followed by the entire contents of their rolodexes," he paused. "That was a joke. They're old, so they have rolodexes instead of phones."

Jamie nodded, but couldn't bring herself to laugh.

"Anyway, they and all their friends came out here, and then more came. Forgotten, old, broken people, Jamie. Look around you." He finally turned. There was fire in his eyes, but it wasn't just raw anger. It was something much deeper, more pained. She thought she understood why.

"What do you see?"

"Bunch of shacks," she said. "Pile of wood. You."

"What do you see aside from that?" Ryan dropped his maul in the thick, springy humus around his feet. "I'm going for something more philosophical, just to get to the point. I don't have much time for diddling around."

"What do you want me to say?" Jamie was starting to feel trapped, and when she felt trapped, she got defensive, prickly, and callused. "That I feel for you? That I feel for these people? I do, God damn it, I do. I'm not heartless, I just don't know what to do, Ryan!"

"That went to a place I wasn't expecting quite so quickly," he admitted. "They're not helpless. They're not pitiful and all that. They're old, some of them past a hundred. Hell, there's a tortoise up the way there," he pointed to a very small shack with an open roof. "He likes the sun, anyway, he's over two hundred. He saw the Civil War, and every damn thing else since. And you know what? About four this afternoon, he'll saunter down and have tea with my aunt and uncle. He grows it himself. Turtles are, you know, good at slow things."

Jamie sighed, a little more heavily than she might have meant. "You're not alone," she said. "There are people on your side. Me and Izzy for two, and I'm sure there's lots more, even Erik wants to help, we're just lost, and you stealing f*cking cows and knocking over grocery stores isn't going to help anything."

"They need food, Jamie," he said.

Ryan’s gaze was so hot on her skin that she felt every breath, every thump of her heart. She was flustered, she was irritated at herself, but damn if she couldn't taste his lips without him even kissing her. She was burning hot, and wanting to feel him against her skin, to see if he wanted her as much as she did him.

And when he finally grabbed her shoulder, she knew. Those fingers, warm, strong, gripping her like velvet iron. She knew he felt the same thing, no matter how hard he was going to fight it.

He left his hand there for just a second before pulling it away, but even when it was gone, she felt the ghostly vibration of his heat on her skin. Ryan shook his head, slowly. "They need food more than I need..."

"Me?" she asked. "I can see it in your eyes. I felt it just now."

He turned away. "I can't," he whispered. "Not until I know they're safe. Not until—"

"You're a coward," Jamie said, coldly. "A beautiful, big-hearted, incredibly sweet, giant coward. You know what you're feeling. I know what I'm feeling, and I'm a big old wimp too, because I just let you turn away."

"You know what I am," Ryan said shortly. "You know who I am."

"I do?" she asked, stepping forward and grabbing Ryan. "The only thing I know about you is that you're willing to give up your whole life to help people, no matter what it takes. That's literally all I know about you, but for some reason, you got under my skin."

He chuffed a laugh, dismissively. "So you don't know me, but you're willing to make wild generalizations about my personality?"

There it was, Jamie saw, the grin from earlier. That cocky, slightly smug, absolutely disarming grin. She couldn't stand it, but every time he did that, it made her realize her own weakness. She recognized it, but had no idea where it came from, or why it was for him that she had these feelings.

The two of them stared at each other for a second, Jamie coming to grips with herself, and Ryan apparently wrestling with the same thing, judging from the way he kept moving his hand like he wanted to touch hers, but then backing away. Finally, he did, he laid his hand on top of hers, and let a grin crack his face. The corners of his eyes turned down as he squinted, slightly.

There it is, Jamie thought. His wall is cracking.

And for just a second, it did. The look on his face was pure. She could feel the passion radiating from his hand on top of hers, and then just like before, he clenched his eyes, smile lines wrinkling them at the corners. He shook his head and looked away before he opened them again.

"I need you to meet someone," he said.

"I shouldn't," Jamie started, but trailed off for a moment. "I shouldn't interfere with your life."

He turned back, one eyebrow cocked. "Who’s the coward now?" he challenged. "You're willing to talk about wanting to help these people, but you won't even meet them?"

The words stung. They bit deep, but underneath it all, Jamie knew he was right. She'd watched both her parents grow old and die, and it broke her heart. For a long, long time, she couldn't face reality. Her two years away from Jamesburg, to take care of them, were the hardest of her life, and when she returned, she was different. Everyone noticed, everyone asked, but she'd never let anyone in. She couldn't stand the fact that she'd gotten... scared.