Page 33 of Far From Sherwood Forest (Far From #3)

A few weeks ago, taking Robin home with me just for the simple fact that I wanted to would have fucked with my head. But now?

I want him in my space.

I don’t want to be alone.

I want to be with him .

And I have no problem admitting any of that. Maybe only to myself for now, but still…

Progress is progress.

When we get to my cabin, we go straight to the shower.

About halfway through, we get a little distracted when I push him up against the shower door and shove my tongue down his throat, our slick, soapy bodies pressed together.

I just couldn’t help myself after staring at the dark hickey I left on his neck.

But a couple minutes into kissing, Robin’s stomach growls, and we break apart laughing.

It feels strange to laugh, like the sensation is foreign to my body, but I’m starting to enjoy the sound of his laughter more and more.

After rinsing off, I leave him to finish up while I slip on a pair of clean underwear and go into the kitchen. I take some steaks out of the fridge that I had left in there to defrost and put a pan on the stove to heat.

The aroma of steak and asparagus fills the small cabin as I start cutting up potatoes.

“Well, this is sexy.”

I peer over my shoulder to see Robin hopping up onto the counter behind me, his gaze fixed firmly on my ass. He’s in a pair of my boxer briefs and one of my t-shirts that are both entirely too big on him, but, fuck, he looks good in my clothes.

Like he’s mine .

“I’m talking about the fact that you’re cooking, of course,” he adds as his eyes snap up to mine, and he gives me a not-so-innocent smile.

Rolling my eyes, I turn back to the potatoes. “Yeah, well…I kind of had to learn when I was on my own.”

He doesn’t respond, and when I look at him again, he’s staring at the floor.

After getting the potatoes in the oven, I go to him, placing myself between his legs with my hands on the counter on either side of him.

“Look at me.”

He does, and I find myself wanting to kiss away all the deep lines etched in his face.

“I’m so sorry, Henry.”

“I know.” As much as I hated him for it, I believe him. I place my hand on the side of his neck and lean my forehead against his. “But it’s done.”

His hands go to my waist, and he starts moving them toward my back but stops himself. A shiver travels through my spine as I let myself enjoy his touch.

“I’ll never let you be alone again,” he says. “I swear.”

“That’s something we need to talk about.” When the crease between his brows deepens, I give him a quick, soft kiss. “After we eat.”

As we eat dinner, I realize that I actually enjoy this. Cooking was always a means of survival for me, but cooking for Robin, feeding him, taking care of him, is something I could get used to.

There’s very little that I’ve found enjoyment in over the course of my life, but I’m finding more and more of those things while being with him.

After we eat, I take Robin to bed, just wanting to lie down and be close to him.

I tell him about Ivy, leaving out a few of the details from when she found me at the cabin.

I tell him everything she told me the other day, everything we talked about minus me doubting Robin’s feelings for me.

It’s been an emotional enough few days as it is, and he doesn’t need to know how much the idea of his feelings not being real terrified me.

I’ve been more vulnerable with Robin than I ever have been with another person, but there are still some things I need to take slow.

When I tell him that Ivy mentioned I’m supposed to go back with him, he props himself up on his elbow to peer down at me with those wide, hopeful eyes of his.

“Does that mean you’re coming with us?”

“I told you I was all in.” I reach up to move a loose strand of blond hair off his forehead. “I meant it, which means I go where you go.”

The smile he gives me is potent enough to stop my heart.

“She also told me that we can come back if that’s what we want.”

Ivy did end up staying with me that night—I’m actually a little surprised I didn’t kill her in her sleep—and we talked a bit more about everything that’s happened.

She hadn’t planned for us to stay in this world as long as we have, but with the way time works differently, it was too early to send us back before now.

It’s probably a good thing, though. I needed a lot of time to heal after those first two years, even if I’m not sure I fully have.

Since we’ve all been here long enough to make new lives for ourselves, she understands if we want to come back when our business with the prince is finished.

“Is that what you want?” he asks.

“I can’t imagine having a life back in Nottingham anymore,” I tell him honestly. “I think I like it better here. But I’ve been thinking about it, and Sherwood Forest might be safer for you. If you really get sick as often as John said—”

“I don’t care,” he interrupts. “I like it better here too. If this is where you want to be, then I want to be here too.”

I’ll take care of you when you’re sick.

I don’t say the words out loud, at least not while he’s awake. But after I turn off the lights, and he’s sleeping while curled into my side, I whisper the words into the dark.

Before following him under, I add, “I’ll always take care of you.”

Since today is Saturday, Robin decides to take the day off from the ranch and spend it with me. I grumble about having to make breakfast for both of us, but it’s only for show. I know he sees right through me, perched on the kitchen counter like he was last night, staring at my ass as I cook.

I won’t admit it out loud, but I don’t hate the attention.

While we eat breakfast, Robin asks if I’d come to the ranch with him tonight. He points out that since I’m going to be coming with them and will be on their side this time, then we should all practice being civil.

He has a point, but I don’t have to like it.

I’d much rather keep Robin all to myself.

He says there are a few things he wants to do in town, so we leave the cabin in the afternoon.

While we’re out, I ask if he wants to pick up some makeup to cover the mark I left on his neck—mostly because I can hardly look at it without wanting to give him another, maybe rip off his clothes and sink into his ass while I’m at it.

When he says he doesn’t want to hide it, I have to turn away so he doesn’t see the smile threatening to tip the corners of my mouth.

We go to the grocery store so Robin can get some beer that he says tastes the most similar to what they all used to drink back in Sherwood Forest. It’s probably still off by a longshot, but he claims it’s the sweetest he’s found.

We also go inside a thrift shop, and Robin buys an old guitar.

I ask him what the hell that’s about, but all he says is that I’ll find out later.

After stopping at a small restaurant for a bite to eat, I drive us out to the ranch. On our way, a realization strikes me, and my brow furrows so deep it’s almost painful.

“Are you okay?” Robin asks.

“Yeah,” I mutter while staring out of the windshield. “I just…I realized we just went on a fucking date .”

The laughter that bursts out of him is contagious, making me laugh too.

“Who would’ve thought,” he says. “Robin Hood and the Sheriff of Nottingham go on a date. Talk about an unlikely pair. For what it’s worth, I had fun, Sheriff.”

I glance over, mirroring his smile with one of my own. “So did I, little thief.”

When we get to the ranch, I park in front of the bunkhouse and spot the Merry Men already gathered outside as John lights a fire in the small pit on the side of the building.

Robin and I both get out as heads turn our way.

We meet at the front of the truck, and I notice he seems nervous, chewing on his bottom lip as his eyes dart between me and his friends.

“I want to tell them,” he blurts like he can’t get the words out quickly enough, but he keeps his voice low. “About us, I mean. John already knows, but I want to tell the others. If that’s okay with you, of course. I just don’t want to have to hide. But if you don’t want—”

Pulling him to me with a hand on the back of his neck, I catch his mouth with mine, his rambling dying on my lips.

I really love shutting him up.

My tongue briefly comes out to lick across his lips before I pull back. His eyes are still closed as his mouth chases mine, his body leaning forward until I place my hand on his chest to stop him.

“Now you don’t have to say a thing.”

His eyes open, bright with surprise like he’s only now aware of what I did. He grimaces as his gaze flicks over to the men standing around the fire. John is grinning while the others stand there stunned, unmoving and silent, not even blinking.

I couldn’t give a shit what they all think of me and Robin being together. At least I saved him from the awkwardness of figuring out how to tell them.

“We brought beer,” I call out, understanding now that it was Robin’s idea of a peace offering in case they do have a problem with it.

Walking to the back of the truck, I grab the case of beer from the bed while Robin retrieves the guitar from the backseat. He’s quiet as we head over toward the growing fire, his shoulders hunched with tension.

I swear if a single one of them gives Robin a hard time, I’ll break their fucking nose.

Placing the beer on the ground, my eyes track Robin as he weaves a path through the chairs and other men to stop in front of—Fuck. Alan, I think? Robin gave me a crash course on them all earlier today, and I’ve already forgotten.

Robin makes eye contact with the man with the reddish hue to his hair and lifts the instrument between them. Another peace offering. He holds his breath, the flames in the pit casting shadows over the deep lines in his face.

Alan doesn’t even acknowledge it, his wide eyes fixed on Robin and his jaw slack.

I’m about ready to tell him to get his head out of his ass when he finally clears his throat and cracks a smile.

“We really are in a whole different world, aren’t we?”

When Alan and the others start to laugh, I’m not sure if they’re laughing with Robin or at him, and my hands ball into fists as I try to decide whose legs I’m breaking first.

Then the tension seems to bleed out of Robin, and he smiles too as Alan takes the guitar from him.

“And here I thought I’d sooner see dragons dance,” Will says, looking much too happy for a man I still haven’t decided if I want to kill or not.

The only reason I haven’t is because of Robin.

“Or a ghost ride in on a headless horse,” the man I’m pretty sure they all call Tuck adds.

Alan opens his mouth next. “Or a—”

“Alright, that’s enough,” I snap, scowling at each of them.

Leaning toward Robin, Alan drops his voice but not enough to keep me from hearing him. He grins, but he still sounds sincerely curious. “Him though? Really?”

Robin’s eyes find mine, and there’s a soft sparkle in them that has me feeling a little more calm. “I guess I like him a little bit.”

They all seem to accept that as a good enough answer and move around the fire to grab beers from the case we brought before sitting in the chairs that form a circle around the pit.

John gives Robin a smile and a friendly pat on the back before he looks at me.

He gives me a nod of his head, which I return.

It feels like a bigger gesture than it appears from the outside.

After that, things settle along with some of the resentment and unease I was feeling before. Robin takes the seat next to me, which helps too.

As we drink and the sky grows darker, I hardly keep track of where the conversations go.

Tuck notices the hickey on Robin’s neck, and they all proceed to tease him.

It seems to be harmless and good-natured.

If Robin looked any more uncomfortable than what the beautiful flushing of his cheeks is doing to him, then I’d probably be knocking their teeth out.

Alright, so I definitely don’t have civil thoughts being around these guys, but at least I’m pretending well enough.

We’ve all had a few beers by the time Alan picks up the guitar, thanking Robin for it. The instrument is a bit different than the gittern he’s probably used to, but it’s not completely foreign. He’s able to pick it up pretty quickly.

The melody starts slow, a steady strumming as Alan picks at the strings, his fingers moving with an easy rhythm. The music weaves through the crackle of burning wood as sparks shoot up like stars. Tuck hums along, but the tune is clearly familiar to all of them.

I peer over at Robin, his face lit by the glow of the fire.

His eyes are a little glassy, and there’s a wistful smile on his face as he watches his friend play.

It shouldn’t make my chest ache with jealousy.

It shouldn’t make me afraid that he’ll choose staying with these men in Sherwood Forest over returning here with me.

But it does.

I don’t drink often because when I do, it’s more difficult to drive the train of my thoughts.

And as I finish my fourth beer, I start to feel like I don’t belong here, with Robin and these men who feel more like his family, his brothers, than they do his friends.

When Alan wraps up his song, I lean over toward Robin before he can begin the next. “Mind if I use the restroom inside?”

He turns his smile on me, and it’s almost warm enough to shake those thoughts from my head. “Of course not. It’s easy to find.”

I’m at least not drunk enough to stumble as I head away from the light of the fire and into the shadows of the bunkhouse. But instead of going inside, I walk right past the steps of the porch. I’m not sure where I’m going. I just need a short walk to clear the buzzing in my head.

I thought I was over this, but it turns out I need the night to swallow me for a few minutes so no one sees how alone I still feel.