If You Need Me (The Toronto Terror Series)

I wake up to Willy’s butt and back against my side. In her defense, this bed is really small, and there’s a dip in the middle that causes us to roll toward each other. Not that I’m complaining. It’s the opposite, actually. I’m living my dream.

I lie on my back, basking in the glory of this tiny fucking bed. My mom had a plan when she put us out here. My bedroom has a queen, and so do all of my siblings’ old bedrooms. But out here in the cabin, we have privacy and closeness, which my mother believed we needed as a newly engaged couple. Bless her sweet, unknowing heart.

I have a crick in my neck from staring at Wills for the past half hour, but it’s worth the pain to watch her like this. Her long, wavy hair fans out over the pillow, and she hugs another one to her chest. She kicked off all the covers at some point during the night, and her sleep shirt has ridden up, revealing a pair of dark blue boy short panties. They show off the incredible curve of her ass.

I continue to lie beside her until my morning wood demands my attention. I doubt she’d be impressed if she woke up next to me and my very excited erection after how last night ended. I have enough time for a stealth session in the bathroom, so I carefully slide out of bed. Wills immediately rolls into the center and snuggles with my pillow.

It does not take me long to handle my handle. Wills is still sleeping soundly when I emerge from the bathroom. I’d love a coffee, but I don’t want to wake her with the noise. I avoid all the creaky spots on the floor as I open the door and step outside.

It’s a beautiful July morning. The sun sits just above the tree line across the lake, its reflection forming a path across the surface of the water that ends at our beach. The lake is smooth as glass, a light fog caressing it. A few kayakers make the most of the morning serenity before the speedboats and jet skis come out to play.

This is my favorite time of day, other than nights spent in front of the campfire, making s’mores and enjoying the night lit up by stars. But nothing beats a summer morning. A hummingbird zooms around the feeder hung from the eaves. He’s quickly chased off by another bigger hummer.

A lot of what Willy said on the walk home last night rang true in ways I hadn’t considered before. In high school, I had friends in every group. Maybe they were more like acquaintances, but people wanted to be around me. And my position at the top of the social hierarchy was important to me. Too important. Being the cool kid felt good, especially with a family like mine. Being popular gave me a false sense of importance, and I never wanted to lose that. I cared so much about other people’s opinions that it took a long time for me to realize what kind of person it made me. It clouded my judgment.

I played on the sports teams, and everyone knew I had promise as a hockey player. It was too small a town for me to go unnoticed. But Willy’s experience was the opposite of mine. She didn’t fit in with a lot of the other girls in our class. She was strong willed, and she didn’t back down. It made her a great class president, but a lot of people were intimidated by her, and guys didn’t know how to handle her.

She’s gone through so much bullshit to get where she is, and it makes me love her even more. But I hate how much I used to be part of that bullshit.

The door to the cabin opens, and a very rumpled, groggy-looking Wills appears on the front porch. She’s still in her nightshirt, which skims the top of her thighs. Her nipples peak against the pale fabric. The front of her nightshirt boasts a cartoon of an angry coffee cup and lumps of sugar who appear terrified.

“Good morning, gorgeous.”

“That’s questionable.” She grimaces against the sunlight, but trudges across the porch and drops down next to me on the swing.

“Did you sleep okay?” I have the gift of being able to pass out within seconds of my head hitting the pillow. But I woke up about an hour after we went to bed with Wills draped across my body.

She grunts and lets her head fall back. “My head is killing me.”

“Let me get you something for that.”

“I need coffee or heads will roll,” she grumbles.

Despite the probability that she will retaliate by biting me, I lean over and kiss her forehead. “You are the most adorable gremlin in the morning.”

“Ugh. I hate you.” She groans. “But mostly because you’re being so fucking sweet, and I’m so damn salty.”

“Your saltiness is one of my favorite things about you.” I pat her bare thigh. “I’ll put the coffee on and bring you something for your head.”

I push out of the swing and head for the door.

“Thank you,” she mumbles as she stretches out, tucking a pillow behind her.

I set the kettle to boil and bring her a bottle of water and two painkillers.

“This view is incredible.” Wills holds out her hand, and I drop the medicine in her palm.

“Right? It’s why I love this little cabin and its tiny bed so much.”

“Your feet hang over the end.”

“They do. I’ll be back with coffee in a minute.” I disappear inside, use the single-cup press, and doctor her coffee the way I know she likes it. She starts to sit up, presumably to make room for me, but I raise a hand. “Hold right there.” I set the coffees on the table beside the swing and tuck myself in the corner, adjusting all the pillows so she can lean into them.

“Is this even comfortable for you?” she asks as I pass her a coffee mug.

“Absolutely.” I don’t care if the armrest is digging into my side. I’m more than happy to end up with a bruise if it means being this close to her.

She sips her coffee and sighs. “This is perfect.”

“Good. I’m glad.” I stretch my arm across the back of the swing and sip my coffee, enjoying the hell out of this moment. It’s probably only happening because she’s too hungover to fight me.

“After coffee we can go for breakfast at Two Guys and a Stove.”

“They have the best eggs benny,” Wills sighs.

“With peameal bacon,” I add.

“Yes times a million,” she agrees. “But we’ll probably run into people we know.”

“That’s inevitable. I won’t leave your side today, Wilhelmina. I won’t make the same mistake as last night.”

“I don’t need protecting,” she snaps.

“I know you don’t.” I kiss the top of her head. Mostly, it’s reflexive. “But sometimes it’s nice to know someone has your back.”

She gulps her coffee and pats me on the leg as she moves to stand. “I need a shower.”

I want to offer to give her a hand, but she’s turned me down twice now.

She disappears inside the cabin. I finish my coffee and hop into the outdoor shower. The cold water is a little hard to take, but I’ll survive. I’m already dressed and ready to go by the time she comes out of the bathroom, wearing another outfit I bought for her.

She frowns at my wet hair. “Did you go for a morning swim? The water would be frigid.”

“There’s an outdoor shower,” I explain.

“I bet the view is amazing.”

“It is.”

“Maybe I’ll try it tomorrow.”

“It’s cold water only, so that’s something to consider.”

Her eyes widen. “You had a cold shower?”

“This place has a small water heater, and I didn’t want you to run out. It’s not a big deal.”

She purses her lips. “Have you always been this sweet?”

I shrug. “You make it sound like that’s a bad thing.”

She blows out a breath. “You’re making it extremely difficult not to like you, Dallas.”

“Again, you make it sound like that’s a bad thing.”

I follow her out the door, all fucking smiles.

I reach around her to open the car door. She murmurs a quiet thank you and slides into the passenger seat. I round the hood and take my place behind the wheel.

Wills glances at the house as she buckles herself in. “Should we invite your parents?”

“They’re not home. It’s summer festival weekend, so Mom’s already there helping set up for the pie-making contest.”

“Oh wow. I totally forgot about that. I haven’t been to the festival in forever.” Every year, they shut down Main Street on the second weekend of July for a huge summer market and regatta. There are sailing competitions, loads of vendors, the prize pig event, and the pie-making competition.

“If you’re feeling up to it after breakfast, we can stop by to check things out. If not, I can bring you back here and then head over to give my mom a hand for a couple hours.”

“If I’m remembering correctly, you used to make pies with your mom. I swear I remember that—and you wearing an apron with flowers on it.” She rubs her temples, clearly fighting the champagne headache.

“You’re right. It’s tradition. I’ve been in the bake-off with my mom since I was a kid.”

“She almost always wins, doesn’t she? Or she did when I was younger.” Willy crosses her legs, and her dress rides up, exposing more of her creamy thigh.

“Until an out-of-town couple won two years ago. They were also professional chefs and a big draw for the summer folk.”

“A little unfair that they tarnished her perfect record.”

“She took it in stride and felt pretty good about coming in second.”

I park in one of the many public lots, and we walk the two blocks to Two Guys and a Stove. It used to be our regular hangout between classes and on weekends. The decor is reminiscent of an old-fashioned diner, with red plastic bench seating and white tables with chrome edges. Chrome-and-red stools line the counter where regulars drink coffee and chat. It’s busy this morning, which is to be expected with the fair and the regatta.

The place is full of familiar faces—even the hostess is the younger sister of a guy we went to school with. It only takes a few minutes for us to get a table, and Wills slides into the booth. I take the seat across from her.

One of the servers stops by our table to take our drink order and does a double take. “Oh wow! Hey, Dallas! I heard you were in town.” She turns to Wills and gives her a shy smile. “I don’t think we know each other, but my dad did some work on your moms’ house last year.”

“Oh! You’re Vicki Cooper.” Wills smiles. “Your dad and his crew did a great job on the new deck at my moms’! They eat out there almost every night in the summer.”

“That’s great!” Vicki beams with pride. “Congratulations on your engagement.”

“Thanks.” Wills stiffens before she shifts into the professional smile she wears when we’re at a promo op.

Vicki glances around and drops her voice. “Brooklyn and Sean were all anyone could talk about until you two. It was so romantic. We were all watching the game, because you know what it’s like around here. Having a Huntsville bred hockey player on a pro team, it’s like, a huge deal, right?” Vicki laughs and rolls her eyes. “Of course you know what that’s like, duh.” Her cheeks flush. “Anyway, it was so cool to watch it happen on live TV. We all felt like we were part of it.” She turns her attention to Wills. “Can I see the ring?”

“Of course.” She holds out her hand, and Vicki leans in.

“Wow. It’s just so beautiful. Like, the most beautiful engagement ring I’ve ever seen.”

“Dallas has incredible taste in jewelry,” Wills says, her smile firmly in place.

“He really does,” Vicki agrees.

The door tinkles with the arrival of new customers, and someone calls Vicki’s name from the kitchen. “Shoot. I should probably get back to work. Can I start you with coffee and water?”

“An intravenous drip of coffee would be stellar,” Wills says. “But if that’s not available, I’ll just take your biggest mug.”

“You got it.” Vicki nods, and I request the same as she takes off.

Wills pulls her laptop out of her bag. “I need to take care of a couple of emails.”

“Everything okay with work?” Offseason is low-key for me and the rest of the team, but it’s the opposite for her. “Everything’s fine. I’m working on a project with the women’s hockey team. I don’t trust Topher to handle things while I’m out of the office.” Her fingers click on the keyboard.

“Is he giving you problems?” I’ve heard them having it out in the past.

“He doesn’t always see the value in the other teams.” She types away on her laptop.

“Bright? Dude, I wondered when we’d run into you!”

I look up as Brad and Trevor Wilson, two guys who used to play on the school team with me, approach our table. They were part of my core group. They weren’t the worst of the jerks, but they weren’t exactly nice to Wills. It’s been a few years since I’ve seen them.

I slide out of the booth, though, because I’m trained to be nice to everyone. “How are you doing?” I glance around the packed restaurant. “You coming or going?”

“Coming. Might be a few minutes before we can get a table, though,” Brad says. “Is it just the two of you?”

Willy’s fingers pause on the keyboard, and she lifts her gaze. “Excuse my rudeness. I’m just dealing with a couple of work things, but you’re welcome to join us.”

“Are you sure?” Trevor asks, glancing between us.

I’m about to say we’re having some quality time together and I’ll catch them later when she speaks again.

“Absolutely.” Wills gives them her bullshit smile as she slides over to make room. I take the spot beside her, while Brad and Trevor take the bench across from us.

“Brad, Trevor, you remember Wilhelmina.” I slide my arm across the back of the seat. “Wills, do you remember Brad and Trevor?”

She hits send on the email and closes her laptop. “I sure do. It’s been a few years though.”

Based on her slightly stiff posture, I know their presence isn’t all that welcome. I don’t know why she invited them to sit with us.

“Congratulations you guys. Gotta be honest, kinda took us by surprise.” Trevor’s gaze darts to her hands, which are clasped on the table.

She turns toward me and adjusts her position so she can run her long nails down my neck. I expect her to dig them into my skin, but she just drags them back into my hairline. “High school was a long time ago, and people change, don’t they, Dallas?”

“Yes, we do.” After what happened at prom, I never wanted to hurt someone like that again. Vicki brings our coffees and rushes off to grab two more for Trevor and Brad. When she returns, she takes our orders, and Wills excuses herself to the bathroom.

Trevor glances over his shoulder as she strides across the restaurant. “Dude, she’s still kind of intense, eh? Who brings a laptop to Two Guys and a Stove?”

I level him with a glare. “She’s going to be my wife, so I’d watch yourself.”

Trevor raises his hands. “I’m not throwing shade. I’m just saying, you’ve always been this easygoing dude. It’s kind of surprising you’d end up with someone who sends emails over pancakes.”

“She’s the most incredible and driven person I’ve ever met.” Not punching my former teammate in the face is taking all my willpower.

“Right, yeah.” Trevor nods. “I can see that. She was the smartest girl in school, for sure.”

“That you two ended up together after all the shit that went down is kind of mind-blowing,” Brad adds quietly.

“I’m goddamn lucky,” I agree. “I was an idiot back then.”

The reality of the situation is sinking in. This will continue to come up, because based on what everyone believes, I intentionally sabotaged Wills. And everything before that. Our engagement is a shock to pretty much everyone. Fuck. So why would she believe me now, if I told her the truth?

Wills returns to the table, but before I can slide out, she sits down beside me and nudges me with her hip. I slide in farther and stretch my arm across the back of the seat.

“So how did this happen, anyway?” Brad asks, motioning between us.

Wills props her chin on her laced fingers and gives me a knowing, devious smile. “Do you want to tell that story, sweetheart, or should I?”

“Depends on which story you plan to tell,” I counter, “the one where I almost burned your apartment down or the one where you had to save me from the clowns.”

Her smile widens. “There are just so many stories to choose from. But I feel like nearly burning my apartment building to the ground is probably the most entertaining.”

Brad laughs. “Sounds like something you’d do.”

“We need to hear this,” Trevor agrees.

“Go ahead, honey, give them the unabridged version.” I press my lips to her temple. She deserves this, to weave these tales that make me look like the idiot I can be.

But instead of dragging me over the coals, she paints a very different picture—one where I’m not a clueless idiot doing clueless-idiot things. She makes me sound sweet and like a lovesick fool. Which, admittedly, I am.

Does she realize this isn’t fake for me? Is she starting to see the truth? I never wanted to hurt her. I just wanted her.

Wills keeps Trevor and Brad entertained, showing glimpses of the girl I fell in love with, while we wait for our breakfast to arrive. She has an endless supply of stories, and surprisingly, not all of them are awful. Although it’s clear she derives an incredible amount of joy from telling the story about Dallas Bright Junior, the horse named in my likeness.

“You do a ton of charity stuff,” Brad observes.

“Mostly it was an excuse to spend time with Wills. She made me chase her.” I kiss her temple.

She slides the hand on my thigh past the hem of my shorts and pinches me.

“You gonna get married in the city or up here?” Trevor asks.

“Not sure yet,” Wills says.

Vicki stops by with our meals, ending that potentially awkward conversation.

Brad and Trevor take off after brunch, which I pay for, and I hold the door open for her as we leave the diner.

My fingers brush hers as I fall into step beside her. She doesn’t yank her hand away, so I link our pinkies. “Why did you invite them to sit with us?”

“I don’t want everyone to have the teen version of me as the only way they know me—unapproachable, cold, et cetera. No one likes feeling or knowing they’re disliked. Trevor and Brad weren’t openly mean to me. Mostly they were just people passing me in the hall,” she says.

I nod, but don’t say anything. I want to know more about what makes her tick. What she felt. What she wants. What matters to her.

“I had two moms in a time when two moms weren’t commonplace in a small town. I have a hard time bullshitting, and I didn’t play by the same social rules as most teens. I could have made it easier for myself by trying harder to quietly fit in, but I don’t think it would have made the experience better, because then I wouldn’t have been true to myself. In Toronto, I like who I am. I have a cool job and great friends. I’m doing something I love, and I get to give back to my community in meaningful ways.”

“I think you’re remarkable, Wills. I always have.”

Her jaw clenches, and, again, for a moment I see the girl I made cry in the cafeteria. “You had a funny way of showing it.”

I’m a second away from telling her the truth, but we’re swarmed by a group of kids who recognize me, asking for photos and autographs. Wills immediately goes into work mode and pulls a Sharpie out of her bag. I sign for a few minutes until she politely lets them know I’ll be around later this weekend, but I’m needed for pie duties.

We quickly duck down the alley behind the storefronts with her hand in mine. It’s not particularly welcoming with the smell of hot summer trash, but at least we’ll get to the pie-making area before the entire competition is over.

The contestants are already set up, the announcer counting down the minutes until the bake-off begins, when Wills and I slide into my mom’s booth.

“Oh thank goodness! I thought I was on my own this year!” Mom says.

I kiss her on the cheek. “Sorry we’re cutting it close. We had to take the alley to avoid all the crowds.”

“Dallas is pretty popular around here.” Wills pats my arm. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“I have an apron for you,” Mom says. “I’d love for you to join us. Only if you want, though.” Her smile is hopeful.

“Um, I don’t want to slow you down,” Willy hedges. It’s rare to see her insecure. I want to wrap my arms around her and tell her she’s incredible and has nothing to worry about.

“That’s not a problem. Dallas and I will show you the ropes.” Mom holds out an apron that reads The Future Mrs. Bright to me. “Help Wilhelmina with this, darling.”

I take the apron and pull it over Willy’s head. Her eyes are wide, her expression panicked, and her voice barely a whisper. “I can’t even bake cookies.”

“I’ve got you, honey.” I wink and turn her around so I can tie the apron at the small of her back. I hold on to her shoulders when she starts to turn. “Let me manage your hair for a sec.” I run my fingers through the loose waves and take the hair tie my mom holds out to me, carefully securing it in a loose braid. I’m not thinking when I lean in and press a kiss to the side of her neck.

“You two are so cute.” Mom’s phone is in her hand, her smile wide.

“Two minutes until the bake-off begins!” Howie Fresh, the town mayor, says into the microphone. All the kids are dressed up as their favorite kind of pie, except for his daughter, who’s dressed as a math symbol. Basically, the entire town is here. It’s one of the festival’s most-attended events, and names are randomly selected for the pie taste test. The winner of the contest has their pie featured in the diner for the entire year. Mom always donates the proceeds from sales to the local foodbank.

Mom gives Wills a rundown of what to expect.

“I’m sweaty already,” Willy gripes as the ten-second countdown begins.

“You’ve got this. We’re a team,” I assure her.

The buzzer sounds, and Mom starts peeling and slicing peaches.

While Willy carefully measures the flour and salt, I stand behind her, chest pressed to her back as I drop in the cubed butter and lard.

“What are you doing?” she mutters, nudging me with her elbow.

“Showing you the ropes, my future Mrs. Bright.” I kiss her cheek and slide two butter knives into her hands. There are no electric mixers or even pastry cutters allowed for this event. I cover her hands with mine and start cutting in the butter.

“Your forearm porn is ridiculous,” Willy mutters.

“You need them for stress relief, you just let me know,” I whisper.

“The entire town is watching us, Dallas.”

“I know. Just imagine what I’d do with these hands if we were alone right now.”

She glances over her shoulder, glaring at me. “Seriously, your mom is right there.”

I can’t help it. I kiss the end of her nose. “Focus, honey.”

She rolls her eyes but returns her attention to the bowl.

But she doesn’t try to nudge me out of the way again. Instead, she lets me stay close. Once the ingredients are mixed, I split the dough into two pieces and show her how to form a ball.

“Do not say anything about my ability to handle balls, Dallas.”

“Careful, gorgeous. My dick is listening and getting ideas.”

She starts laughing, her ass rubbing against my cock. I step to the right to grab more flour, and she shuffles with me. “Only you could turn a community competition into foreplay.”

“It’s a skill.” I groan as I kiss her neck.

Mom snaps her fingers. “Hey, you two, less flirting and more pastry making!” But she’s smiling.

Wills doubles down, and we finish rolling out the dough just as Mom finishes the peach mixture. I flip the crust into the plate and pinch the edges.

“I feel like I should be doing something other than shielding your hard-on from the eyes of the public,” Wills whispers.

“I’ll need those beautiful hands of yours in just a minute.” I kiss her cheek and pass the empty pie crust to my mom so she can fill it with the peach-custard mixture. I crack an egg into a bowl and press a whisk into Wills’s hand. She takes over, and I step to the side so I can work on weaving the lattice top. Willy brushes on the egg wash, and I finish with a generous sprinkle of coarse sugar before we slide the pie into the oven.

I turn to Wills. “You get a gold star, honey.”

Her apron is dotted with flour, and so is her face and hair. I brush some away and kiss the end of her nose, again. “And I meant what I said.” I wink and wiggle my fingers.

She rolls her eyes, but the flush in her cheeks gives me hope.