Page 47 of A Curse On Black Lake (Black Lake Gothic Cowboys #1)

Chapter thirty-seven

Killian

“What do you want?” I ask her.

Her perfect lips roll together, and it takes everything in me not to bite one. I squeeze her ass, bringing her undivided attention to me. “Darlin’, you can trust me,” I tell her.

She blinks again, and a tear escapes her eye. I press my mouth to it, catching it on my lip.

Her worry-filled eyes search mine, and she says, “I want to trust you.”

“So then let yourself, Eliana.”

“I’m scared,” she whispers.

“So then let me hold you while you are.”

“I can’t lose someone again. I’ve lost everyone,” she says.

With her still in my arms, I take us to the chair on the back porch. She tries to get off me, but I won’t let her.

If anyone understands the fear of losing those you love, I do. Yes, death is a reality for us all. It doesn’t matter who you are, but we are still living. And it hit me when my lips met hers for the first time that we should not bury ourselves with those we have been forced to.

“I don’t want to lose you either. But, baby, I think we’re worth a shot. I know it’s scary, and risky, but…”

There is no reason for us to hold back. Not with me or her, not when life on Earth can come to such an abrupt end.

She nods and brushes her cheek. “But it’s a risk worth taking,” she says.

“You are,” I tell her.

“You’re willing to be with someone like me with all my extra … problems?” she asks.

I grab her hand and press my lips to her knuckles, then unfold it and press my mouth to her palm. “What’s happening to us is not on you. But your Grams was right. You’ve been given a special gift. You’re not a problem, and even if you were, tell me where to sign up because I want them all.”

“Maybe you’re the crazy one,” she mutters.

I laugh and slide my hands up her sides. “Would you still want me?” I ask her.

She nods, biting her lower lip.

“That was faster than I expected.”

“What? Time?” she asks.

“Yeah, I figured you’d need more. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad, but I can understand your hesitation. This is intense for both of us, but I know what I want.”

She drags her hands over my shoulders and down my arms. “You’ve been very convincing.”

I chuckle and kiss her cheek again.

Her eyes are bright and clear, and it makes my heart swell in my chest. She looks damn good in my hat.

“But what about everything else?” she asks.

“We’ll figure it out. I don’t think what we have has anything to do with murder and stalking,” I tell her.

She kisses the corner of my mouth. “I hope that’s true.”

“Are you done here? Ready to go home?” I ask her.

Eliana gets off my lap, and I reluctantly let her.

“Wait, can we go to the library?” she asks.

I pluck my hat off her head and put it on. “What? Am I so boring you need extra reading materials to get through the day?”

She grins and walks back toward her flowers. “You said it, not me.”

I chuckle and rub my beard, watching her walk away from me. “It’s Sunday, I don’t think it’s open,” I holler.

She spins around, walking backwards. “Oh, I forgot. Can we go tomorrow?”

“Sure. But what are you looking for?”

“Are you hungry? I’m hungry,” she says, snipping a few more flowers, dodging my question.

I’m hungry for something alright.

“Yeah, I could eat.”

“Me too, but we need some things.”

“Then move that sassy ass a little faster so we can get to the store in time!”

“Yes, sir,” she yells and snips a few more flowers. “But you’ll be the one cooking for that little comment.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I say as she walks towards me with her bouquet. The picture of a beautiful future pops in my head, and I push it away. One day at a time. I put the watering can back, and wait for her as she gathers her bouquet and comes back to the porch.

“You know, I was planning on cooking for you anyway.”

She smiles softly. “I’d like that.”

Eliana digs around in the kitchen and drops the flowers in a large mason jar to bring home. She locks up the house, and we hop in the truck headed to Delilah’s for a few groceries.

The downtown area is relatively quiet since it’s Sunday. Not as many people are out. When I was a Captain, Sundays were usually calmer. But Saturdays were the opposite, because they were opportunities for body dumps. A lot of bodies have been found on Saturday nights.

I pull into Delilah’s parking lot and walk around helping Eliana out of the truck.

“You know you don’t have to do that for me every time,” she says.

I toss her a deadpan look. “If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t.”

She rolls her lips over her teeth, trying to hide her smile as we walk to the door.

Her hand settles into mine, and it catches me off guard, but I squeeze it before opening the door for her first. I notice Mary-Lou Springer staring and reach for Eliana’s hand again.

Mary-Lou’s eyes widen on us, and I tip my hat to her, not because I’m being polite, but because I’m telling her to keep her comments to herself.

She sneers, and Eliana leads us down each aisle while I carry the basket. She didn’t tell me what she wanted, but she seemed to make up her mind as she collects various ingredients.

“I’ll make butter when we get home, but we should probably grab some bread.”

As we turn the corner to the aisle, the smell of freshly made bread wafts into my nose, and a young couple, about Eliana and I’s age, is there. Eliana stops short, and I realize the couple is the Reeds, Jane Reed.

Eliana’s hand twitches in mine and I almost pull her away from the aisle, but then she lifts her chin and urges me with her to the bread she wants.

“Oh look, it’s the witch and her bitch,” she sneers.

I swallow the growl in my throat as Eliana grabs a loaf, and I hold the basket up for her to put it in.

Jane’s eyes widen on us as we begin to walk past her.

Eliana tugs me behind her without giving Jane another look.

My chest swells with pride as we leave the bread aisle and she leads the way to the register.

“I’m proud of you, little witch,” I say, getting into the truck.

“I don’t know why,” she says to the window.

I reach for her hand and hold it over my heart. “You do know why, but that’s okay,” I tell her and turn.

“I have dirt on my hands,” she says.

Her index finger moves over my heart, and I kiss her hand before resting it on my thigh. “Don’t care,” I murmur.

When we get home, I carry the bags in and Eliana runs upstairs. By the time I’m done un-bagging, she’s back with cut-off shorts and a t-shirt. “Give me a minute to go milk Gertrude so I can make butter real quick.”

I chuckle shaking my head. “We could have bought butter, baby.”

She lifts a shoulder. “She needs to be milked anyway. It’s fine.”

“Can I help? I’ve never milked a cow before.”

She giggles. “That’s hard for me to believe.”

“Well, last time I checked, you can’t milk a bull.”

“I mean, you can try, and I’ll watch,” she says, half on a laugh.

“I thought you cared about me?”

“I’m here for the entertainment,” she says, grinning.

She spins on her heel, heading for the door.

“Hey,” I grunt.

“Yeah?” she asks.

“Come here,” I command.

She takes a step toward me, and I haul her into my chest. She rises up on her tiptoes, and I stoop down to meet her half-way, kissing her with all the tenderness of a helpless man.

I slide my tongue against the seam of her lips, and she opens for me, taking everything I give her.

My hands wander down to her butt, and squeeze, fitting her snuggly against me. She giggles and pulls back.

“You’re an ass man,” she says, brushing her nose against mine.

I grin and kiss her again. “Not really, but yours? Yes,” I say and pat her butt.

She giggles again and smiles. “Come on, let’s go milk a cow, cowboy.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She takes my hand and drags me out of the house behind her. The sun is still bright, with the heat of the day setting in. As we go down the hill, she grabs her hair, putting it on top of her head, revealing her golden skin.

I reach forward, unable to keep my hands to myself, clasping the back of her neck as we walk into the barn.

Standing to the side, I wait for Eliana to get her little stool and bucket for the milk. Gertrude gives me an annoyed look. “I’ll show you first, then you can try.”

She grabs the teat, starting at the top and squeezing down. Milk squirts into the bucket. Eliana does it a few more times and looks over her shoulder. “Want to give it a try?”

“Yeah.”

She gets off the stool, and I sit in her place. Reaching for the teat, I do the same motion, but not much milk comes out. Gertrude shifts as if she’s annoyed.

“Sorry, Gerty, he’s a rookie. We have to be patient with him.”

I try again, and the same thing happens.

“You’re not going to hurt her. You need to squeeze harder,”

I chuckle, and her cheeks turn pink as she rolls her eyes, wrapping her small calloused hand over mine. Eliana squeezes my fingers harder than I was, and more milk comes out.

“See?” She pulls her hand away, and I milk Gerty a little more with the same amount of pressure.

When I do it again, I don’t squeeze as hard.

“I’m not sure I got it the first time. Can you help me?” I ask her.

She scoffs and wraps her hand around mine again. My hand relaxes in hers as she presses her fingers over mine in the same motion. “This is going to take forever, and piss Gerty off, just so you can get me to touch you,” she says into my ear.

“Then let’s pretend time doesn’t exist,” I say, studying her profile.

“It may not be relevant to Gerty, but she’ll notice when she hasn’t been milked, and she really will kick you.”

Laughing, I go back to milking the cow, faster with more purpose. I glance at her and she’s looking between me and Gertrude.

“You knew how to milk a cow all along, didn’t you?” Eliana asks.

I grin and finish filling the bucket. Gerty seems happier too. I pat her back, and she moos. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She crosses her arms and pops a hip out. “Right,” she says, drawing out the word.

“I need to milk Carla, too,” Eliana says, referring to her goat.

“I can do it while you make the butter you have to make.”

She smiles. “I’m aware it’s unnecessary, but…” she trails off.

“But you and your Grams did it,” I finish for her.

She blinks a few times and nods.

“Then let’s make some homemade butter.”

Eliana smiles and kisses my nose, reaching for the bucket.