My mom also had a brother, who allowed me regular time on his racetrack in Mahoning County. He was cool but absolutely did not care for my father, so he never came around. But I wished he would, because he could probably kick my father’s ass in two seconds flat.
And considering my dad had grown up in foster care his entire life, he had no real family to speak of. Which might’ve also explained why he also had no fucking heart. But there was no room to feel sorry for him—he had essentially bullied me my entire life.
And that was the thing about dirty little family secrets. People might’ve had their suspicions, but those suspicions were the very thing that kept them from getting too close.
“Will you go up on the bridge with me?” Jessie asked, breaking me out of my heavy thoughts.
I headed toward her and up the incline of the hill. At a particularly rocky section, I automatically reached for her hand to help keep her steady. Her arm stiffened in momentary hesitation, but then she entwined her fingers tightly in mine and allowed me to walk her up. That felt like a small victory where Jessie was concerned. I couldn’t help feeling somewhat protective of her—I cared about her as a friend, after all.
“Have you ever gone rock climbing?” I asked.
“Hell no,” she said, and I laughed. “I’m slightly terrified of heights. This isn’t too bad, though.”
“So then you weren’t serious about bungee jumping?” I said.
“I stand by my original declaration of never say never,” she said. “How often do you go?”
“Pretty regularly. You should come sometime—if only to get a feel for it.”
She shrugged. “Maybe I will.”
I liked that she was open to trying new things, and it sounded like she had her parents to thank for that as well.
When we got to the bridge and positioned ourselves side by side, looking out over the pond, I heard Jessie sigh. “It really is very pretty.”
She raised her camera and took a couple shots from this angle. “I bet my dad would’ve loved photographing this.”
“It might’ve even reminded him of that place you said he grew up,” I said and she nodded.
I felt solace from the fact she had shared her dad’s stories on this trip. The idea that she felt comfortable enough to talk about him with me.
“If you look west you can make out the other bridges I’m going to show you downtown.”
“Where?” she focused her lens in the direction I was aiming but quickly became frustrated. “I can’t see anything.”
I stepped behind her and pointed over her shoulder. “See that smaller brown building? Look just beyond that. You can make out just the edge of one of them. It looks like a steel cage.”
I waited for her eyes to adjust to my instructions. I was standing so close behind her, my hips were almost touching her lower back. I could smell her again and from this vantage point, I could see all the piercings on her upper ears and just make out the edges of a tattoo on her shoulder.
“I see it,” she said, her voice sounding low and throaty. “It’s like this town has dual personalities.”
“That’s a good way of looking at it,” I said, still settled in the same position. I liked looking at her from this angle. At her round hips and small, feminine shoulders.
“Kind of like a lot of people I know,” she said, stealing a quick glance over her shoulder.
“What do you mean?” When I stepped nearer she became motionless, her eyes shutting momentarily.
I tried to control my breathing but I was close enough to run my lips across the nape of her neck. Close enough to grab for her wrists and bring them behind her back, trapping them while I devoured her smooth skin. The thought made my dick throb against my zipper. Fuck.
“Everyone . . . has a hidden part of themselves . . . they don’t allow anyone to see,” Jessie said with some effort.
“Yeah?” I moved even nearer and I knew she could feel my harsh breaths against the column of her throat. Maybe she even felt my hard-on as my jeans brushed over her hip. I didn’t know what in the hell I was doing, I was just running on pure emboldened instinct. “Hmmm . . . wonder what yours is?”
Suddenly she spun around, her breasts now grazing my chest and I nearly swallowed my tongue at the soft feel of them.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she whispered, her gaze full—half with mischief, half with lust.
We stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment, much like we had in the car, but this time, it was different. Now there was a heated tangible energy between us, nearly tethering us together.
“What?” she mumbled, tilting her face toward mine. “Just ask me.”
I wasn’t sure what in the hell she was getting at. Did she know exactly what I was fantasizing about doing to her? Or was she still referring to the previous topic about people hiding stuff? Maybe they were one and the same.
“I . . .” I stuttered and then suddenly everything became too real, my fear of letting this go any further clawing up my throat and paralyzing me. “We . . . we better get going to the other bridges.”
I stepped back and turned away. She didn’t hesitate or even question me. “Okay. Let’s go.”
We drove in virtual silence to two other bridges. I stood to the side of her as she took shot after shot, wondering what in the hell I thought I was doing when I was up on that covered bridge by the pond. And what in the heck was she doing or saying or asking.