Page 17 of Far From Sherwood Forest (Far From #3)

The last of the leaves gave up sometime in November. The mountains had their first real dusting of snow by then—just a whisper at first, barely clinging to the pines above the treeline. But once the temperatures dipped for good, it started coming down in earnest.

John and I were invited to Thanksgiving dinner with Lucas and his family up at the ranch house like usual.

Brian and Spencer were there too. When December slowly rolled in, so did the heavy, gray skies and that dry cold that scrapes at your skin.

While the town lit up with Christmas lights and fake icicles, I spent the week of Christmas feeling like I was on my deathbed.

It happens. More often than I’d care to endure, but I deal with it. It was all I could do to stop John from fussing over me.

January is coming to a close, and Henry and I haven’t had any real interactions in months.

I’ve seen him around town—at the grocery store and at the bar a few times.

Every time I run into him, I barely resist the urge to approach him and talk to him.

He’s always by himself, and I hate the thought that he still feels alone.

I watch him sometimes, remembering that ache in my chest after he walked away from me the last time we were in the forest, and then remembering the way his eyes fluttered at my touch the last time we really spoke.

My eyes linger on him while he’s not looking, and I find myself wishing the distance between us was gone.

But the scowls he still gives me keep me away. I guess it was too much to hope we were over all of that when he came to me at the ranch that day.

However, the one thing his continued disdain for me doesn’t stop me from doing is wanting him. Wanting a repeat of that day in the woods. Wanting more than that. Just wanting him any way I can have him.

I think it’s safe to say I’m bisexual.

Even though I had never really thought about being with a man before, I think a switch in my brain might’ve flipped when I saw Henry in those tight jeans.

I can admit to myself now that he looked damn good.

He does look damn good. Tall. Thick thighs.

Broad shoulders. A beard I wouldn’t mind feeling against my face or between my legs or anywhere else.

Not to mention the way he used me just as intensely as he hates me.

Fuck, he’s hot.

However, it’s clear he doesn’t want me back, that he’s sticking to his claim that nothing will ever happen between us again. Maybe I should move on, especially now that I have more options.

But…I don’t want just anyone.

As ridiculous as it may be, I can’t stop myself from wanting Henry.

There’s something else about him that draws me in that I can’t quite put my finger on. There’s so much more beneath that damn near impenetrable exterior than he lets show. I saw bits and pieces of it when he finally opened up to me and told me the real reason he still hates me after all this time.

I want to see more .

I want to gently draw him out, break open his shell and see what’s really inside.

But even if there’s any hope of doing that, it wouldn’t happen overnight.

Like planting a seed and waiting for it to break through the soil, test the ground, and reach out tentative roots, searching for safety and warmth.

But I can’t be that for him.

No matter how much time and space I give him, I don’t know if he’ll ever let go of everything he’s holding onto.

Meanwhile, I forgave him probably a bit too easily when he told me he was the one who killed my father.

Maybe I should have stayed mad at him and used that as an excuse to hate him as much as he hates me.

But holding a grudge just isn’t like me. Not anymore.

Part of me really wants to go up to him the next time I see him and tell him to get his head out of his ass.

When movement in my periphery has me turning my head to see Henry walking around the corner into the aisle of the grocery store I’m standing in, it feels like maybe that magic from before is following us again.

Now’s my chance.

Henry takes one look at me, scowls, and turns right back around.

I roll my eyes. He told me to watch my back, but he’s been the least terrifying threat I’ve had hanging over my head these past few months.

Placing the can of soup I had just picked off the shelf into my basket, I follow after him.

“Henry!”

He doesn’t stop, turning down the next aisle without slowing.

Quickening my pace, I push past him and his cart, coming to a stop as I turn and face him. He’s forced to stop too, the cart between us. Like a line drawn in the sand.

His eyes narrow. “Get out of my way, Robin.”

I tilt my head and grin. “How about you make me?”

“Are you trying to test me again?”

“I liked it the last time I did.”

His face takes on a reddish hue, and I think it might be out of both irritation and something else. He’s been avoiding me for months, so it’s actually kind of satisfying to ruffle his feathers a bit.

Leaning over his cart, he drops his voice to that low, deep timbre that I think I’m starting to really like. “Is that why you’ve decided to annoy me today? You miss my cock, Robin? You want to be dicked down?”

He’s trying to get under my skin like I’m trying to do to him because I can hear the sarcasm in his voice. But he doesn’t know how much I want to answer yes , how much I do want that.

Now if only I could convince him to give it to me.

“If you wanted to hate fuck me, I wouldn’t argue. Though, I might make you chase me first.”

His pupils dilate, causing his eyes to darken, a war raging in them between lust and loathing. “Fucking move. Now.”

He straightens to his full height and starts to push his cart forward, but I grab hold of the other side with my hand that’s not holding my basket.

“Look,” I say with a heavy sigh. “It’s just weird having you around and you just…ignoring me. It’s giving me whiplash when you came here hellbent on destroying me— your words, by the way. Especially after everything that happened between us.”

“So you just want attention?” He shakes his head. “I promise you don’t want it from me.”

“Maybe I do,” I tell him, hating the desperate edge in my voice.

He stares at me for a long while, as though he’s trying to understand why the hell I’d want that. I don’t fully understand it myself.

He’s hot, sure. He also has a fucking filthy mouth that I don’t hate one bit. But the truth is I don’t really know him all that well. I didn’t know him as anything other than the Sheriff back in Sherwood Forest, and while I probably know him better here than I did there, it’s still not much.

What I do know is that he’s a mystery stitched from hidden cracks and shadows, untouchable yet impossible not to reach for.

Henry’s jaw clenches, and he finally says, “I told you it’s not going to happen.”

I guess I got my hopes up when he said he might not be done with me.

That much is evident by my months of pining, of wanting to solve his mystery.

I’d almost rather have his loathing and passionate desire for revenge directed at me again instead of the nothing I’ve had these last few months. At least that was something .

Look at me getting one taste of dick and throwing romance out the goddamn window.

Or maybe it’s that part of me that hates seeing Henry still kind of alone and wanting to give myself to him in whatever way he’d want me.

But it’s clear he doesn’t want me.

“Fine. Thanks for the bi-awakening, Henry.” I move around his cart and past him back down the aisle. “I guess I’ll find someone else to explore my newly discovered sexuality with.”

I don’t actually have plans of doing that. I think I’m just hoping to sting him the way he stung me.

I get to the end of the aisle when a heavy hand falls on the nape of my neck and squeezes hard. I nearly drop my basket as my breathing picks up and Henry’s chest presses into my back, his heat seeping through the layers of our clothes.

He leans forward over my shoulder until his warm breath is at my ear. “Like fuck you will.”

A shiver passes through me from the deep growl of his voice, and it takes a burst of sheer will not to get hard in the middle of the grocery store aisle.

“You just said—”

“Fuck what I just said. Remember the other thing I told you instead and watch your back, little thief.”

Something scrapes at the shell of my ear, and I don’t realize it’s his teeth until he bites down. It’s quick but hard, causing me to gasp and my cock wanting to fill.

By the time my brain comes back online and I turn to look behind me, Henry’s walking away.

As I stand there attempting to catch my breath, I try to make sense of what just happened. Was it really that easy all along?

Is Henry a jealous asshole?

I can work with that.

On my way to the checkout, I pick up some condoms and lube.

Just in case.