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BEGUILED BY HER
CHELSEA M. CAMERON
 Contents

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About Beguiled By Her
Eight Months Ago

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Epilogue

About Ravished by Her

Reading List
About the Author
Also by Chelsea M. Cameron
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And now, back to Beguiled By Her…

 About Beguiled By Her

There were only two things I had to look forward to: finally moving into my own place without an
awful roommate, and my Saturday nights at the only lesbian bar in the state of Maine—Sapph. I
make it a rule to never kiss the same person twice, but one night I lock lips (and do a little more)
with a platinum-blonde, tattooed stunner and I can’t resist having a second taste. After that, I’ve
sworn to let her go and hook up with someone new.
That is, until she shows up in Arrowbridge driving the converted van that she apparently lives
in, flashing her beautiful smile and asking me for a favor: can she park her home next to my house
for a few weeks? Out of sheer astonishment, I say yes, and have instant regrets.
Sterling Vincent barges her way into my life and I’m not quite sure what to make of her. She’s
incredibly hot, sure, but she’s also funny and prickly and wild in a way that I can’t help but admire.
The longer she stays, the closer we get, until I find myself wanting to break every single
relationship rule I’ve ever made for someone I never saw coming.
 Eight Months Ago

Eight Months Ago…

I sipped my drink, the house mojito specialty, and scanned the rest of the bar. It was full of beautiful
people and I was determined to kiss someone before I got into my car and drove back to my
miserable house and went back to my mostly miserable life. Sapph, the only lesbian bar in Maine,
was my happy place, and I worked all week to make it here, even though it took me an hour and a half
to get here from Arrowbridge.
“See anyone you like?” a voice said in my ear, and I turned to find someone standing close to me.
Her platinum blonde hair was pulled into two buns that glowed under the purple, pink, and orange
neon lights. Large black-framed glasses sat on an adorable nose as she watched me with medium
brown eyes. I’d have to get a closer look to see if they had flecks of gold in them.
She raised her beer with a tattooed arm and turned her head to the side.
“Maybe,” I said. “Are you asking?”
She smiled, and I felt that familiar tug of attraction to another person.
“Maybe,” she said, echoing what I’d said.
She definitely wasn’t what I normally went for, but that made her exciting and caused my heart to
pick up the pace in my chest.
“Can I get you another round?” I asked.
She shook her head slowly. “I have to drive.”
“Then how about a soda?”
She grinned as if I’d told a good joke. “Sure, honey.” I caught the hint of a southern accent and I
almost melted.
I motioned to the bartender and asked my companion what she wanted.
“And I’ll get a water,” I said. “I have to drive too.”
“Soon?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “Right now, I don’t have anywhere else I’d rather be.”
She finished her beer and set the bottle down. “You’re cute.”
“What’s your name?” I asked, leaning a little closer.
She reached out one hand and put a finger on my lips. I froze in shock.
“It’s more fun if we don’t share names, don’t you think?”
I nodded, suppressing the urge to lick her finger as she removed it. The bartender delivered her
soda and my water, and she sipped at it as I stared at her mouth.
 “You wanna find somewhere a little more private?” she asked.
“Yes,” I breathed, and she held out her hand, the ink going all the way to her fingers in delicate
designs that I couldn’t make out in the dim light.
“Come on, honey,” she said, leading me to a back corner.
I trailed after her as if I was under some kind of enchantment. Maybe her tattoos were spells to
snare women like me.
She found us a corner so dark that I didn’t even see it at first until she pushed me up against the
wall and I found a warm and soft body against mine. The stranger plucked the drink out of my hand
and disposed of it somewhere and I stared as her glasses lenses flashed in the dark.
“What do you want?” she asked in a low voice that somehow cut through the noise of the bar.
“I-I don’t know,” I stuttered. For some reason, she laughed.
“You’re cute,” she said, and leaned closer, so our faces were only a whisper apart.
This wasn’t like me. I was usually the one with the upper hand, but with her? I was handless.
“How about if I kiss you? How would you feel about that?” she asked, tucking some of my hair
behind my ear and dragging her fingers down my neck. I leaned into the contact, wanting more.
“Yes,” I said. “Yes.”
She didn’t waste any time in capturing my mouth, and I was hers. She kissed me ferociously after
a second of seeing how I would react to the contact. I didn’t want gentle or sweet or little delicate
kisses.
I wanted the kind of kisses that would make me forget. Kisses that would obliterate every single
negative thought in my head that I couldn’t escape any other way.
She gave me everything I wanted and more with lips and teeth and tongue and her body moving
against mine and her hands everywhere and there was no room for anything else but her, but this
moment between us.
The kiss was almost vicious in its intensity, and I welcomed it. Opened up and let her right in.
Gave it right back to her in a way that made her growl low in her throat.
Before I knew what had happened, she’d broken the kiss and I opened my eyes, staring into hers
behind those glasses. She hadn’t even taken them off, but they were definitely smudged.
It wasn’t enough. It hadn’t been nearly enough to quench my thirst for her. Not even close.
“Well then,” she said, running her thumb across my swollen bottom lip. “Should we go
somewhere a little more private?”
“Yes.” It was the only word I could seem to find around her.
She took my hand and dragged me into the bathroom, taking me down to the last stall and pushing
me through the door. Somehow, the bathroom was completely empty, so it was just the two of us.
My breath echoed loudly in the room before I threw myself at her, driving her up against the
locked door. They must have known their stalls were going to be used for things like this when they
built them, because there was plenty of room for two people.
“Fuck,” she said, staring at me under the dim light. “Where did you come from?”
She was looking at me as if I was something sexy and desirable and it made my blood boil in my
veins.
“Stop talking,” I said, kissing her and swallowing her laugh. I didn’t want to talk. I had much
better things for her mouth to do.
As we ravaged each other with our mouths, she slid her hand between us and wiggled her fingers
underneath my jeans and my underwear. I was already drenched, and she moaned when she
discovered that fact.
 My body started to shake uncontrollably as she stroked her fingers against me, and my kiss
became erratic as I got lost in her touch.
“That’s my girl,” she purred in that beautiful accent.
I gasped as she touched me, somehow sliding two fingers inside me through some supernatural
wrist manipulation. Maybe I should have made things easier for her, but she didn’t seem to be
complaining as she continued to kiss me and fuck me with her fingers until an earth-shattering climax
hit me like a strike of lightning. It was all I could do to keep my legs under me and not collapse on the
dirty floor as the orgasm went on and on, gaining power the longer she touched me.
I lost all sense of time and space until I finally drifted back to myself, my body still shaking.
She wiggled her fingers inside me once more, causing me to gasp and hold onto her before she
grinned and withdrew her fingers, looking at them in the low light.
“Thanks, honey,” she said, giving me a wink and then unlocking the door, causing me to stumble
out after her. She strode to the spotty mirrors and pushed her glasses higher on her nose with her other
hand and then walked out of the bathroom.
“What?” I said, but the door had already closed behind her.

I went to Sapph the next week with the sole intention of seeing her, and she was there again, a
knowing smile on her face as I walked up to her. Before she could say a word, I pushed her against
the wall and kissed her the way I’d been thinking about all week. We didn’t make it into the bathroom
this time, in spite of my heavy hinting. Her kisses were just as overwhelming as the first night. So
good that I had broken my own rule of never kissing the same person twice.
This time I left her wanting more, cutting off the kiss as she moaned in my mouth and saying “thank
you” before I walked out the door and headed back to my car, a huge smile on my face.
 Chapter One

“I HATE MY JOB, I hate my job, I hate my job,” I sang under my breath as I finished updating an account
for a customer who had called.
Carol-Anne, the other teller, was deep in a gossip session with a local roofer, so I was managing
everything else, since the bank was still dragging their feet on hiring a third teller to help us manage
the line after Karissa had abandoned me. I was trying not to hate her for it, but she was so much
happier now that she was working for herself as a virtual assistant for several authors, including her
friend, Tenley.
It was difficult not to be a little bitter about it, but I was doing my best to be supportive in this
new venture. Deep down, I was jealous, not that I would ever tell her that. Jealous that she had moved
on to something else and was building a new career when I was still stuck here and hating life.
The bright spots in my week were spent at Sapph, the only sapphic bar in Maine, but even those
nights had gotten stale and tired. Since I was technically pansexual, I could go to any bar, but there
was something so special about Sapph. It felt like home, in a way that other places didn’t.
Someone pulled into the drive thru, so I hauled myself over to see what they needed, pasting my
best fake smile on and pretending that I was having a fantastic day.
Only five more hours and then I’d be free.

DECIDING that I didn’t feel like cooking, I stopped at the grocery store and got one of those fruit and
cheese plates with crackers, a bottle of sparkling wine, and a few other things. I definitely had PMS,
so I ] blamed that for my food choices. I’d also loaded the cart up with chocolate. At least the
checkout person didn’t ask me if I was having a party.
Party for one.
At least I didn’t have to go home and deal with anyone else. No more roommates for me. I
breathed a sigh of relief when I pulled into my little dirt driveway and looked at the little single-wide
trailer with the blue siding. It even had a little porch on the front, and in the summer I planned to put a
little pool outside and lounge under an umbrella and grow tomatoes in pots in the yard.
I hauled my groceries in the front door and wished for the fiftieth time that I’d gotten myself a cat.
I was just worried about it destroying my furniture or getting sick during the day while I was at work
or something. I hadn’t grown up with pets, so I wasn’t used to dealing with animals and their needs.
What if I got a cat and it hated me? Then we’d be stuck with each other.
“Hello, house,” I said, dumping my work bag, sliding off my shoes, and going to the tiny little
kitchen on the right side of the house to make up my little snack dinner plate. It was just an adult
version of those cheese and cracker lunches they made for kids. If you added a glass of wine, it made
things fancier and elevated the meal to something that felt Parisian and cool.
One thing I had splurged on when I’d moved were some really lovely wine glasses so even if I
was drinking juice, I felt classy as fuck.
I consumed my dinner on the couch with an episode of a show I’d been saving before heading to
the shower with a podcast and then putting on my pajamas to spend the rest of the night reading.
Karissa had been up my ass about joining her little book club for months. I kept telling her I
wasn’t a book club kind of girl, but she was starting to wear me down. Mostly by showing me the
incredible spread of snacks and drinks that they had at the meetings. She really knew the right way to
lure me to something.
Listen, I loved reading. Loved it. Would spend all of my hours reading if capitalism didn’t force
me to drag myself to the bank every day. A book club seemed…I couldn’t explain it to Karissa. I
didn’t want other people to influence my opinion or enjoyment of a book. Not that I was afraid to
defend myself by any means, but I didn’t want to. I preferred to read my books in peace.
My current read, an age-gap romance between a celebrity and her new assistant with sizzling
chemistry was easy to get lost in. I couldn’t stop until I’d assured myself that they would end up
together. That was the thing about romance, you knew that the ending promised a happily ever after,
but somehow the author convinced you that things might not turn out okay. That kind of predictability
in this economy? Priceless.

I FINALLY FORCED myself to get to bed before I started another book, and after a quick little
meditation, I tried to sleep. Every night was a battle, and tonight was no different. My thoughts
bounced around like a ball, flipping from one random thing to another until finally shifting to those
nights at Sapph all those months ago with that incredible woman who’d fucked me with her hand and
then just…disappeared. Every time I’d gone back, I’d looked for her, but she vanished like a ghost
and had never reappeared.
When it came to making out and hooking up, I didn’t revisit the scene of the crime. It had nothing
to do with the person I’d hooked up with. I just…got bored easily. The excitement wore off and then
they’d want to ask personal questions and share deep conversations, or maybe start a relationship and
all of that made me want to run far, far away.
I wasn’t opposed to relationships. They seemed fine, for other people. Karissa was living in bliss
with her girlfriend, Ingrid. They were even talking about having a baby to join Ingrid’s daughter,
Athena, and buying a house. I also didn’t think rings were far off either. It was mind-blowing to me
how fast her life had changed and how happy she was. But that was what she wanted, even if she
hadn’t known it and had fought it tooth and nail before coming to her senses. Now that she was
coupled up, her next project seemed to be finding someone for me.
Thanks, but no thanks. The idea of relationships gave me hives. Someone knowing all my secrets
and my weird quirks and rearranging things in my house and sleeping in my bed? Absolutely not. I had
my own space for the first time in years and I was going to battle to the death to defend every inch of
it.
Most of my furniture might have been bought from thrift stores and yard sales and shoddily
painted to make it look better, but every piece in my house I’d chosen. I’d wanted. No one had to give
me permission to decide to spend way too much money on a pink velvet couch. So I had.
Still. I couldn’t get that woman’s voice and her eyes and the way she’d touched me out of my
mind.
Maybe she’d just been a dream.
 Chapter Two

I MADE it through the rest of the week without murdering Carol-Anne or locking her in the vault. The
branch manager, Megan, informed us that she was starting interviews soon for a new teller, which
could be great and could be terrible, depending on who they hired. The chances I’d get someone as
great as Karissa were slim to nil, but someone I could stand to hang around with for forty hours a
week would be nice. Carol-Anne was all excited because she had a niece that had just graduated from
high school and was trying to put in a good word for her, but I knew that was never going to happen.
One member of that woman’s family in this bank was more than enough.
Megan and I locked up after closing time and she asked me if I had any weekend plans before
getting into my car and heading home. Friday nights were for self-care and reading before I did
chores on Saturday mornings and then headed to Sapph on Saturday nights. It was a long drive, but I
didn’t care. I liked my routine, even if I was living for the weekends.
One thing that wasn’t part of my routine was the huge white van parked next to my house and
almost in my driveway. My landlord owned a decent piece of property and was planning on putting
another trailer next to mine, but hadn’t gotten around to it yet. I enjoyed not having super close
neighbors in the somewhat rural part of Arrowbridge, and this van made me nervous, so I slid my
keys between my knuckles when I got out of the car. Just in case. It was completely normal to be
freaked out by a strange white van parked next to your house.
I kept my eyes on the van as I ran up the steps and let myself into the house. Unlike most people in
Maine, I always locked my door.
Once inside, I locked the door behind me and made sure my sliding door that went out to the
backyard was locked too. For extra protection, I pulled all the curtains and latched the windows. That
might be a little overboard, but I wasn’t taking any chances.

I PEEKED through the curtains a few times while I made dinner, but the van was still there. What the
hell was going on? Had someone just abandoned it? I chewed my lip and debated sending a message
to my landlord, but I didn’t want to seem like a weirdo. There was probably a perfectly logical
explanation and I’d gotten myself all worked up. That was a hazard when you had an overactive
imagination.
I was just putting my dishes in the dishwasher when there was a knock at the door that startled me
so much that I dropped a dish.
“Fuck!”
The knock sounded again.
“Fucking hell,” I said as I avoided the plate shards and headed to the door. The one downside of
living in this house as opposed to an apartment was that I didn’t have a peephole. I really should have
set up that external camera security system.
I carefully unlocked the door and cracked it open just enough to see the person standing on my
porch.
A person I had seen before.
“Oh, hello,” she said, grinning at me. “Sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if I could fill up
my water with your hose?”
While I knew she was speaking English, her words were not translating in my brain. The more
pressing distraction was the fact that the girl I’d kissed and hooked up with at Sapph eight months ago
was now standing on my porch in a pair of ripped black jeans and a faded oversized sweatshirt with
the sleeves rolled up.
“What?” I said, opening the door just a little bit more. This didn’t feel like a trap, but that was
probably what people thought just before they fell into a trap.
“Oh,” she said, studying my face, squinting a little at me through the lenses of her glasses. “I
remember you.”
With that flash of recognition, I felt my face flame bright red and my tongue unable to form a
coherent word.
“Fancy seeing you here,” she drawled, and that accent made me go even redder.
“Uh, hi,” I said, finally able to speak. Questions on top of questions fired in my brain like
fireworks. “What the hell are you doing here?”
She jerked her thumb behind her shoulder, and I peered out further to see the white van I’d been
so concerned about earlier.
“I came in that. Paul is an old friend of my parents, so he said I could park here for free if I
wanted, but I wanted to ask if it was okay with you, and if I could fill up my water tanks,” she said,
and I had to take a few seconds to process her words. This stranger knew Paul, my landlord? People
always talked about what a small state Maine was, but this was eerie.
“Paul is a friend of your parents,” I said, and she nodded.
“Yeah, so if I could just get some water from you, I’ll get out of your hair,” she said, flipping her
braid over her shoulder.
Now that my initial shock had worn off, my attraction took its place and all I could see was how
gorgeous she was, and all I could think about was everything that had happened at Sapph.
“Water?” I asked.
“Yeah, water,” she said pointing at two large plastic jugs I hadn’t noticed at her feet. “Just need to
fill these up and I’ll be set for a while.”
It finally made sense.
“You live in the van,” I said.
She grinned proudly. “Yes, I do. Do you want a tour? Happy to give you one in exchange for the
water.” How was she being so casual about this? She’d literally been inside me and here she was,
acting like a friendly neighbor just asking for a little bit of water.
“No, thanks,” I said, shaking my head. This was all too weird to contemplate.
She shrugged. “Well, in case you change your mind, I’ll be right there.” She pointed at the van
again and then picked up the jugs. “Water?”
“Oh, yeah, sure,” I said. I wasn’t going to deny someone water.
“Thanks, honey,” she said, and I had to close my eyes at the memory of the last time she’d said
that to me.
When I opened them, I could tell she was thinking about the same thing. “And if you wanted to
come over for anything I could give you, just let me know,” she said, taking the jug with her to where
the hose was coiled up on the outside of the house.
The innuendo was not lost on me, and I felt myself start to sweat, even though it was chilly
outside.
I needed to go back inside, but instead I watched her turn on the hose, let it run a little and then fill
up her jugs before hauling them back over to the van. She opened the back and put one in and then
disappeared inside the van. There were windows, but they were tinted so dark you couldn’t really see
anything.
I had to admit, I was kind of curious about what the van looked like on the inside. There were all
kinds of people who were doing that these days. What was it like? How did it work? How did she do
it? What was the bathroom situation?
I still didn’t know her name.
“Hey!” I called out and she slid the window open and poked her head out.
“Yes?” she said, a grin playing on her face.
“What’s your name? If you’re stealing my water, I think I should at least get your name,” I said.
She nodded. “Fair enough. I’m Sterling. And you’re…” she trailed off.
“Kai,” I said. “It’s not short for anything.”
“Nice to meet you, Kai it’s not short for anything,” she said, smiling as if at a private joke.
“Everyone thinks it’s short for something else,” I said, knowing I was talking too much.
“I like that it’s not,” she said. “You sure you don’t want a tour? I just put in some sexy new solar
panels.”
I shook my head. No. Being in that enclosed space in her van was definitely a bad idea. Not with
me all hot and bothered and flustered like I was right now. I’d wanted to know if the chemistry
between us was still there and it was worse than ever, at least on my side. No idea what she was
thinking.
“You have a good night then,” she said, winking and then sliding the window closed.
I stood there for a second, wondering what the actual hell had just happened before I went back
inside and made sure the door was locked.

I WENT through the motions of making dinner and doing my nightly routine, but I couldn’t stop
thinking about her.
Sterling. Her name was Sterling. Unusual name for an unusual girl. A girl currently living in a van
right next to my house.
What was she doing right now? Could she cook in there? I pulled up my social media and
searched several vanlife accounts and hashtags and some of the vans were like little rolling palaces.
Way fancier than you could imagine. Campers and vans with granite countertops and stainless steel
and hidden TVs.
 I understood living in a small space, but that was taking it to the extreme. My biggest question was
still about the bathroom. Was Sterling going to wander off to pee in the woods? I hoped not. Part of
me expected to get another knock at the door with her asking to use my bathroom.
I even searched for Sterling on the pages, but there were just so many to go through. I set my
phone aside and went back to my book on my ereader. Now that I finally had a place to have physical
books that my roommates wouldn’t steal, I was excited to build my book collection. Right now, I only
had a few precious favorites that had come with me, and they sat on one small shelf in my bedroom.
I’d set up my living room with the intention of having the wall on the left with the bathroom on the
other side as my little library corner, but I hadn’t gotten the bookshelves yet.
Another knock at the door made me roll my eyes, but I got off the couch and went to unlock the
door.
“What is it now?” I asked and found Sterling standing there in sweatpants and a different
sweatshirt and her damp hair up in a bun. She held out a bottle of wine to me and I noticed two
glasses tucked under her other arm.
“Riesling?” she asked. “I also have seltzer if you don’t want alcohol.”
I blinked at her. That was the last thing I expected.
“Uh, fine,” I said.
“Come on in the van. It’s nice and cozy,” she said, singing the last few words.
My curiosity got the better of me, so I followed her down the steps and over to where the van was
parked. Sterling handed me the bottle of wine and yanked open the side door, revealing the interior of
the van.
I wasn’t quite sure what I expected, but it wasn’t this.
“Holy shit,” I said.
Sterling laughed. “I’m going to take that as a compliment, I think.”
The inside was more spacious than I’d expected, which was a surprise. I ducked under a little
archway that looked as if it was a tree grown right into the van and strung with flowers and fairy
lights.
The bed was horizontal in the back and covered with a thick flowered comforter. Sterling showed
me her kitchen area, with sink and running water from the jugs she’d filled earlier, a fridge and tiny
freezer, and there was even a teeny tiny bathroom with a door and a compost toilet (that answered that
question) and a showerhead.
The space was whimsical and meticulously clean. Spices lined up in a row on a wooden rack
above the sink and I was astounded by how organized she was as she pulled open drawers and
showed me how she stored everything she needed.
“I was going for an enchanted forest vibe,” she said, waving her hands around. There were more
branches decorating the edges of the walls, and more twinkling lights, and she’d covered the ceiling
with reclaimed wood. She even had a tiny bookshelf at the foot of the bed and I recognized several of
the titles on it.
“So, what do you think?” she asked, hauling herself up onto the mattress.
“It’s amazing,” I said. “Truly amazing.”
Sterling preened, clearly loving the compliment. “Thanks, honey.”
Fuck. I couldn’t think when she called me that.
“Did you do it all yourself?” I asked.
That was the right question.
She hopped down from the bed and took the bottle of wine from me, setting the glasses down on
the cutting board next to the sink and reaching into a hidden drawer for a bottle opener.
“Mostly,” she said. “Me and my dad, and I tried to get my sister to help, but the only thing she
wanted to do was hang the lights and criticize the layout.”
She snorted and shook her head.
“We’re very different people,” she said, yanking the cork out with a soft pop and then pouring
wine in each of the glasses, handing one to me. I was still standing, unsure of where, exactly, to sit.
“Normally I’d say we could sit outside, but it’s too cold. I’ll be glad when the weather warms up
a little,” Sterling said, squeezing by me and closing the door. She had a little heater that kept the space
nice and toasty.
“Come on, I won’t bite. Unless you ask me to,” she said, passing by me again and hopping up on
the bed.
This night had taken an odd turn, but I guess I was going with it. So I got up on the bed with her,
careful not to spill the wine. There was a fan cut into the roof above the bed that circled softly.
Sterling sat back against the pillows and sighed happily.
“This really is incredible,” I said, surveying the van from the bed.
“It’s home,” she said, lifting one shoulder and then sipping the wine. It was cool and crisp on my
tongue, with just enough sweetness and bite.
“So, Kai, what’s your story?” she asked, turning to face me.
“My story?” I asked.
“Yeah, what brings you to this corner of the world?”
Her brown eyes were a little too…intense as she gazed at me. I felt like I had to say something
interesting.
“I grew up nearby, in Hartford. And I didn’t really know what to do after high school, so I went to
community college and got a general degree, and still didn’t know what I wanted to do, so I got a job
at a bank and that’s pretty much it.” Boring. My whole fucking life was boring as hell. The only
adventures I had were the ones I read about in books.
“That’s it?” she asked, raising one blonde eyebrow.
I shrugged. “That’s it.”
Sterling sipped her wine thoughtfully. “I very much doubt that, Kai.”
“I mean, I read, I guess. And…” I trailed off, unable to come up with anything else. “Honestly, it
takes enough energy not to murder anyone at work or throw myself through the drive thru window that
by the time I get home I’m so tired, I don’t want to do anything else but read. My friend keeps trying to
get me to join her book club.” I rolled my eyes.
“Why don’t you?” she asked, crossing her legs.
“I’m not really a book club kind of girl,” I said.
She waited for me to elaborate.
“Why are we talking about me? What about you? How long did it take you to do all this?” I
gestured at the van.
“You don’t like talking about yourself,” she said, hopping off the bed and opening a little cabinet
above the sink and pulling out a bag of cookies.
“You want?”
“Sure,” I said. Cookies and wine with the girl who had finger-fucked me in the bathroom of
Sapph. Totally normal experience.
“No, I don’t like talking about myself because there’s not much to say,” I told her. That wasn’t
exactly true but talking about myself made my skin itch and my feet want to run away as fast as I could
and get somewhere to hide. To be alone.
“That’s a lie you’ve told yourself so often you’re actually starting to believe it,” she said, leaning
against the counter and passing me the bag of cookies. I swung my legs so they hung over the side of
the bed.
I narrowed my eyes at her. “I didn’t come in here to be analyzed.”
I ate a cookie and didn’t care that I was getting crumbs on her blanket.
“Why did you come here?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.
“You were the one who knocked on my door and offered wine and a van tour. I’m just along for
the ride.”
Sterling raised her eyebrows.
“Fair enough,” she said, finishing her glass and pouring some more.
“What are you doing here?” I asked again, because she hadn’t exactly answered me in the first
place.
“I felt like being in Maine for a little while. I’ve been driving all over the US for the past few
years and woke up one day and felt Maine calling my name. So here I am.”
It was as if we spoke completely different languages. I couldn’t imagine just going from place to
place like that. No fixed address. Surrounded by strangers. No plans, just vibes.
“Do you work?” I asked.
She nodded. “I post my journey online and get ad revenue, but I also do some graphic design and
virtual assisting on the side.”
“That’s what my friend Karissa does. She quit the bank to be a VA,” I said.
“Jealous?” she asked. I guess I hadn’t been able to hide the tone in my voice.
“Not of her job. Of the fact that she doesn’t have to fake a smile and deal with old men hitting on
her all day and listen to Carol-Anne and her family drama that never, ever seems to end. It’s a miracle
I get out of there every day without stabbing someone,” I said, taking a deep breath after I finished.
“You should definitely have another cookie,” Sterling said, nodding at the bag.
“Is that a roundabout way of calling me a bitch?” I asked.
“Absolutely not, if bitch is a negative term in your book. It’s not in mine.”
That comment derailed me for a second.
“It sounds like you’re stuck and you need to make a change,” she said.
“Tell me something I don’t know. But it’s not like jobs grow on trees in Arrowbridge. And…I
don’t know.” I didn’t want to admit to her that I was terrified of something new. The bank was awful,
yes, but it was a job I knew. There weren’t too many challenges, so when things got bad, I could go on
autopilot if I needed to. Even if I got another job, it might end up being worse. With the exception of
Carol-Anne, the rest of my coworkers were fine, and my manager, Megan, was great.
“Change can be terrifying,” she said. “Not for me, but I assume for other people. I thrive on it.”
Clearly she did.
“My sister, on the other hand, does not. She loves to be in complete control of everything at all
times. I keep telling her that it’s going to kill her, but…”
I’d much rather talk about her sister than my job angst, so I asked her, “Where does she live?”
“Just north of Boston. She has a two-bedroom all to herself, so I sometimes crash when I’m in
New England to remind myself what it’s like to live in a house. I barely even get to see her because
she works ridiculous hours doing marketing for a real estate firm.” She made a face at that. “I think
she got all the ambitious genes in the womb.”
“What?” I asked.
 “We’re twins,” she said, pulling up a picture on her phone and showing it to me.
“Wow,” I said, staring at it.
Sterling snorted.
She was instantly recognizable in the picture, wearing black shorts and another oversized shirt,
her hair in bubble braids, and her glasses perched on her nose. The woman next to her had beachy
waves, no glasses, and wore a pink pastel matching set, every single inch of her polished and femme
and glossy.
“She’s pretty,” I said.
“That’s what everyone says,” Sterling said, taking the phone back from me. “Let me tell you,
being called the ugly twin wasn’t the most fun growing up.”
“I didn’t mean you weren’t pretty,” I said, realizing my mistake. “She’s…pretty in a conventional
way.”
Sterling stared at me, her arms crossed. Fuck, none of this was coming out right.
“She’s…but you’re…” I almost started choking and Sterling laughed as my face went completely
red and I just stopped digging the hole.
Sterling waved her hand for me to continue. “Yes, I’m…”
I narrowed my eyes in a glare. “You know.”
Sterling grinned at me. “I think I get the idea, but I’d really like you to say it out loud.”
What the fuck had I gotten myself into?
I hauled myself off the bed and handed her the half-empty glass of wine.
“I’m going to go back into my house now,” I said.
“Why? Things were just getting interesting,” Sterling said as I pushed past her and hauled the side
door open, letting the cold evening air knock some sense into me.
“Have a good night, Sterling,” I called without looking back at the van as I made my way to the
house. The porch light came on, so I didn’t trip and fall, but I could still hear her laughing behind me
until I closed the door and shut her out.
 Chapter Three

“S HE IS PARKED at my house, right now,” I told Karissa as we ate lunch together at Common Grounds,
the coffee shop across the parking lot from the bank. I’d broken down and told her everything about
last night. Well, almost everything. I omitted the most graphic details of the previous bathroom
fingerbanging.
“Unbelievable,” she said, shaking her head. “You don’t think she’s stalking you or anything,
though, right?”
I’d thought about that too. “No, she definitely does know my landlord. I may have done a little
stalking of my own and found her parent’s social media pages and they have pictures together. So it’s
just a completely random coincidence.” A coincidence that was messing up my life right now.
I finished my salad and shoved a chocolate croissant in my face. There was not enough chocolate
for this day.
“It sounds like she’s not going to be hanging around, though,” she said, taking a sip of her iced
latte. “She’ll probably get bored in a few days and be gone. Unless you don’t want her to be gone.”
She raised and lowered her eyebrows suggestively. They almost disappeared under her two-tone
blonde-and-brown bangs.
“Stop that,” I said. “I don’t want her to hang around.”
“You sure about that?” Karissa said, smirking at me. “Would it be so bad to kiss the same person
twice?”
“Technically, I have kissed her on two separate occasions,” I said. “But I’m not going for a third.
That’s not my thing.”
Karissa shook her head. “I don’t get it. I know you’re not a relationship person, but your rules are
way too rigid. What would happen if you broke them?”
I pressed my lips together. I didn’t want to talk about or justify my rules right now.
Karissa sighed when I didn’t respond. “Okay, fine. We’ll talk about something else. We’re finally
getting a kitten.”
That was a much better subject.
“Are you sure you’re ready for that responsibility?” I joked.
Karissa laughed and then shook her head. “Well, I’m already taking care of Athena, so what’s one
more?”
Karissa had not only dived into a serious relationship, but her girlfriend, Ingrid, had a daughter
who was three that she’d jumped headfirst into parenting. She’d been really stressed about it at first
and had been so scared that she almost ended the relationship. I couldn’t blame her for being
apprehensive, but I saw how much she loved not just Ingrid, but her daughter too. The three of them
were made for each other. They’d been a family and hadn’t even known it.
“You know, they say you should get kittens in pairs,” I said, finishing my croissant. My break was
almost over, so I was going to have to go back to the misery soon.
“Shut your mouth right now,” she said, pointing at me, but she was smiling.
“It’s true,” Mia, one of Karissa’s friends, called across the café from behind the counter. She was
one of the baristas, and also happened to be Ingrid’s younger sister. Everyone around here was
connected in at least two ways, it seemed.
“Two cats are better than one,” Lark, the other barista, added. She was in book club with the rest
of them and she was dating Sydney, who was also somehow tied to the friend group. Karissa had tried
to explain all of it to me before, but I hadn’t really been able to follow it. If I ever joined the book
club, I’d probably have to learn.
“I promised Athena one kitten, and I’m not breaking that because Ingrid would kill me,” Karissa
said, checking something on her phone.
“I can put in a good word for you,” Mia said, adjusting her hairnet on her gorgeous red curls.
“You have got to stop eavesdropping,” Karissa said.
“But how would I keep myself involved in your life if I didn’t?” Mia said back, grinning.
“I have to get back to work,” I said, sighing.
Karissa gave me a look and I put my hand up to stop her from saying something that I knew would
make me late.
“I’m fine. The job is fine. Everything is fine.”
I turned away from the worried expression on her face and said goodbye to everyone as I walked
back across the parking lot to my doom.

THE VAN WAS RIGHT where it had been this morning when I got back. I got out of my car and
spared it a glance before going inside. How long was she going to be here? What did she do all day?
Did she think about me?
I almost expected the knock that sounded on my door as I was making dinner. Nothing special, just
some lemon garlic rosemary chicken thighs with whatever veggies I could chop up topped with too
much cheese and croutons.
I hadn’t been planning on it, but I’d made enough for two servings. Just in case.
Sterling stood on my porch with a bag from Sweet’s Sweets Bakery in Castleton.
“Pastries?” she asked.
“I was just about to eat dinner.”
“Oh.” Her face fell. “Then I’ll come back later.”
“No,” I said. “You don’t have to. You could come in.”
Why the hell was I inviting her in? We didn’t owe each other anything. There was a danger if I fed
her, she’d never go away. I’d already given her water.
“I can?” she asked, peering around me. “Shit, I was just going to reheat some leftover butter
chicken and rice, but if you’re offering…”
“I’m having chicken too. And salad. Any food allergies?” I asked.
She shook her head slowly and grinned at me.
 “Then come in,” I said, stepping aside. I tended to keep my house neat and tidy because it made
me feel better when I came home to a clean home, but I still did a sweep to make sure I hadn’t done
anything like leave my vibrator on the coffee table or something.
Everything looked good and I went to the kitchen to get another plate as Sterling looked around.
“I had a feeling you wouldn’t be into minimalism,” she said, flopping down on the couch as if to
test it.
“No, definitely not,” I said. “I think more is better. If this wasn’t a rental, I’d paint and redo the
kitchen.”
She popped up again and took the plate I handed her and served herself some chicken and salad,
dumping ranch dressing on the salad.
“Couch?” she asked. I had a small wooden dining table and two chairs, but I almost never used it,
except for doing my taxes and piling random mail.
Eating on the couch was much more comfortable.
“If you spill any dressing on my couch, I will dismember you,” I said as she sat down with a sigh.
“I’ll be careful,” she said, making a face at me. I sat down next to her and she started cutting up
her chicken and dunking it in the ranch puddle from her salad.
“How is it?” I asked when she’d had a few bites.
“Good,” she said, nodding and wiping her face with a paper towel. “I can cook in the van, but
sometimes it’s a lot of work and then dealing with the dishes can be a pain, so this is nice. Thank
you.”
I went red from the praise. “You’re welcome. I don’t cook much, except for me.”
“No one else to cook for in this town?” she asked, and I realized I’d walked right into a trap.
“No,” I said. “Cooking for people isn’t my thing.” I cooked for Karissa sometimes when she came
over, but that was an exception.
Sterling glanced down at her plate.
“You knocked on my door,” I said. “It would have been rude not to invite you in.”
Her look was skeptical. “You into southern hospitality?” Her accent had gotten thicker and it was
doing things to me.
“No, just…hospitality. Mainers have it too.” It might not be a smile and peach pie or something,
but we were good people. As long as you were good to us. If you were rude or acted like you owned
the place? You’d get the coldest shoulder and bad directions.
“Yankee hospitality,” she said, chuckling.
“I feel like you’re trying to insult me, but that’s not going to work,” I said, slicing my chicken.
“Not at all, honey,” she said. “Not at all.”
Silence fell between us for a few moments, broken only by the sounds of our silverware.
“So, what’s your plan? You going to hang around here and do…what, exactly?” I asked. Castleton
would have been a much better place for her. She could have parked near the beach and had a
fabulous ocean breeze. Arrowbridge had trees…and not much else. The downtown was cute, but
you’d get bored of it in a few days.
“I’m taking a pause. A reset, if you will. Standing still for a little while. I just…needed a break.
From everything,” she said, and for the first time she looked serious. A frown tugged at the corners of
her mouth.
“Anything specific?” I asked before I could stop myself.
She lifted one shoulder and let it drop then seemed to shake herself and smile again.
“You trying to figure out all my secrets without revealing any of yours, Kai?”
 “No,” I said. That hadn’t been my intention at all.
We stopped talking again and I tried not to be uncomfortable with the silence. Sterling finished her
plate and set it on the coffee table and wiped her face again. I was shocked she hadn’t spilled any
ranch on herself, or my couch.
“Dessert?” Sterling popped to her feet and took both of our plates to the kitchen.
“Sure,” I said.
“Do you want coffee or tea or something?” she asked, as if this was her house.
“Tea is in the cabinet above the sink,” I said.
“Ohhh, loose leaf,” she said, upon discovering my collection.
Sterling hummed as she made herself at home in my kitchen, filling the kettle and carefully filling
two of my tea balls with my favorite orange and cinnamon blend. Instead of getting up and helping I
just…let her do it. Watched as she acquainted herself with my house, as if she’d been here hundreds
of times before. Seeing her in my space was so…strange, but in a good way.
I wasn’t going to analyze those feelings too closely as she delivered me a steaming cup of tea that
smelled like spices and comfort.
“Thank you,” I said.
“You’re welcome,” she said, opening the pastry bag and pulling out what she’d brought. “What’s
your poison?”
She’d brought one of Sweet’s famous cinnamon rolls, which they made by hand with seasonal
flavors. This one was made with fresh strawberries and had a tart Meyer lemon glaze that I couldn’t
get enough of.
“Mine,” I said, snatching it.
Sterling laughed and selected what I assumed was their baklava cupcake, dripping with honey and
covered in frosting and ground pistachios.
“Don’t worry, I won’t get any on your couch,” she said, carefully peeling the paper off the
cupcake.
“This couch wasn’t cheap. I just paid it off,” I said, brushing at the soft fabric. Sometimes I just
wanted to sit and pet it for the sensory experience.
“It’s very nice,” she said, running her fingers across the back of it.
“Thank you,” I said and went back to the cinnamon roll. The frosting was so sweet and so lemony
that it almost caused me to make a face as I ate it.
“Wow,” Sterling said after taking a bite of her cupcake. “This is incredible.”
“Sweet’s is the best bakery in Maine,” I said. “They’ve won a bunch of awards and a couple of
shows have come to do segments.” I’d even thought of applying there once, but then scared myself out
of it.
Sterling swiped her finger through some of the frosting and popped it in her mouth, flicking her
tongue a little. She knew exactly what she was doing.
“Stop it,” I said, peeling apart my cinnamon roll.
“Stop what?” she asked, sucking the frosting off her finger.
“You know what, Sterling,” I said.
Sterling smirked. “You didn’t tell me to stop at Sapph. In fact, I remember you telling me to do the
opposite.”
“I don’t want to talk about that,” I said. Why did she keep pushing my buttons?
“Why not, honey?” she asked.
“Stop calling me that,” I said, feeling my defenses to her crumbling. I needed to get myself
together, and fast.
Sterling’s smile turned into something vicious and seductive. I’d seen that same smile on her that
night at Sapph and I didn’t know how much longer I could resist it.
My reaction to her was something chemical, and if I wasn’t careful, I was going to give in.
I stood up abruptly. “I should…get to bed?” It sounded like a question, but Sterling didn’t call me
on it.
She simply wrapped up the rest of the cupcake and left the other pastries in the bag with me.
“Thanks for the food, Kai,” she said as she pulled open the door, and I didn’t breathe again until it
had closed behind her.

THE VAN WAS GONE the next morning when I went to work, and I had mixed feelings as I
wondered if she had left for good. She still hadn’t told me how long she was going to be crashing next
to my house and using my water. If she knocked on my door and asked for something, I was going to
shut it in her face from now on.
If she was still here.
All day while I was at work, I kept thinking about Sterling and her van. I rushed home as fast as I
could and there it was. That white van sitting next to my house.
The passenger door slid open and she leaned out.
“Hey, neighbor. Did you miss me?” she asked.
I let out a breath and shook my head before I stomped up the steps and into my house. Her laugh
echoed behind me until I slammed the door.

THAT NIGHT, Sterling didn’t knock on my door, even though I was waiting for it. Every now and
then I’d check out the curtains to see if the van was still there. It was, with the lights inside glowing
through the tinted windows. Later on in the evening, she covered those windows.
I finally let myself get lost in a book, a sapphic fantasy with magic and unique world-building and
a princess in distress and a servant with secrets. Plus, it had a yellow cover, which went perfect with
my other sapphic fantasy books with yellow covers. Did the publishers get together and have a
meeting to decide yellow was the official color of sapphic fantasy? No idea, but they were going to
look gorgeous when I eventually got my bookshelves and arranged my books in rainbow order.
Someday.
 Chapter Four

OVER THE NEXT FEW DAYS , I noted the van’s comings and goings, and thus Sterling’s comings and
goings. She didn’t knock on my door, but she did say hello and I knew she was still using my water.
At least I didn’t have to sit in my house the whole weekend and wonder about her.
Karissa invited me over to hang out, and I was glad to be getting out and doing something, even if
it wasn’t going to Sapph. I just didn’t feel like going lately.
Athena yanked open the door after I knocked.
“Mama and Kissa are getting married!” she yelled at me.
“Athena! That was supposed to be a surprise,” Karissa said, coming over, her face red.
“I got excited,” Athena said. “I’m sorry.”
Karissa leaned down and kissed the top of Athena’s head.
“Did you?” I asked, meeting Karissa’s eyes. She was absolutely glowing.
“Yes,” she said, holding out her hand. On it was a ring with three stones: one green, one blue, and
one garnet, all set in a silver band.
“It’s beautiful,” I said, taking her hand, feeling tears welling in my eyes.
“Thanks, I think she did good,” Karissa said, looking at the ring and then hugging me tight.
“You didn’t do so bad yourself,” Ingrid said, coming over to show me her ring.
“Did you propose at the same time?” I asked, wanting to know every detail.
Their eyes met and they shared a smile.
“Kind of,” Karissa said. “I was convinced that I had found the ideal hiding place, but someone
found the ring and was caught wearing it.”
Everyone looked down at Athena, who smiled innocently up at us.
“And then the cat was kind of out of the bag and she told me to wait, and I was pissed, wondering
what the hell she was doing making me wait while I was trying to propose to her. Then she dug into
the back of the freezer and pulled out my ring and the rest I don’t really remember.”
Ingrid and Karissa kissed and the love shining between them was almost too much to take. I
wiped my eyes with my sleeve and hugged them both again.
“We’re not getting married right away, since we want to find a house first,” Karissa said when she
could take her eyes off Ingrid.
“Wow, congratulations again,” I said.
“Thank you,” Ingrid said and then Athena wanted a hug too, so I gave her a hug and growled in her
ear as she giggled.
“I should have brought something,” I said, realizing that I hadn’t.
 “It’s okay, you didn’t know,” Karissa said, waving me off.
“Is your dad completely over the moon?” I asked her and she rolled her eyes.
“That’s an understatement. I thought he was going to have a stroke. He’s thrilled. Oh, and did I tell
you he’s actually dating? Casually, but I’m hoping he’ll find someone to spend his time with. When
he’s not begging to babysit Athena.”
“Poppy!” Athena said. “I miss Poppy.”
Karissa laughed. “You’re going to see him tomorrow, Miss Queen.”
“Yay!” Athena said and then ran into the living room as if she was done with us.
“And she’s off,” Karissa said. “Are you hungry? We were just going to make some sandwiches if
you want one.”
“Sounds great,” I said and joined them in the kitchen.
“I think we should definitely have some champagne,” Ingrid said, pulling a bottle out of the fridge
and holding it up.
“Yes, please,” I said.
“Me too, Mama?” Athena said, barreling into Ingrid’s legs.
“This is grown-up juice, but I have some for you,” she said, getting out a little bottle of sparkling
cider.
“Athena juice!” she said, and we all laughed.
The adults made up our sandwiches and filled our glasses and piled on the couch together with
Athena on her little kid-sized throne that she was very happy about.
“Hey, fiancée, can you get me a napkin?” Karissa asked when Ingrid got up. She rolled her eyes,
but she was smiling.
“Yes, fiancée, I can get you a napkin. Anyone need anything else?” she asked. I shook my head.
“Mama, I need pickles,” Athena said.
“Napkins and pickles,” Ingrid said, going to fetch the items.
I didn’t really care what we did when I came over. I was more than happy to watch one of
Athena’s movies that I’d seen before or play tea party or princess spider, which was a game where
Athena dressed up in a Spiderman costume with a princess dress over it and chased everyone around
and pretended to throw webs and fight monsters at a ball.
Athena had also recently gotten obsessed with the idea of friendship bracelets, so she liked
helping us make them. Her little fingers struggled with the beads sometimes, but she still had fun.
“Flower girl!” Athena yelled when she was finished with her meal.
Ingrid explained, “We’ve been teaching her about weddings and she’s gotten obsessed with the
idea of being a flower girl. So we got her a basket and some fake flower petals and she wants to
throw them everywhere.” She turned to Athena. “You can play, but what is the rule about playing
flower girl?”
“Always pick up after,” Athena repeated.
“That’s right. Flower petals can make a mess.”
Athena ran to her room and came out with a little white basket and started twirling and chucking
fake flower petals with force akin to a baseball player throwing a pitch.
“We’ve explained to her that it’s supposed to be gentle, but it hasn’t made an impression,”
Karissa said as we all watched her go up and down the hall, throwing petals as if she was mad at
them.
When her basket was empty, she picked them all up and then did it all over again.
Karissa and Ingrid leaned against each other; their fingers entwined.
 “And you?” Karissa said, turning her gaze onto me.
“What about me?” I asked.
“How are things? Is the whole van situation resolved?” I hadn’t really talked to her more about
the Sterling situation, not that anything had even happened the rest of the week.
“I think she’s given up on me,” I said. “I keep expecting to look out one day and just see the van
gone and never hear from her again.”
“You sound disappointed,” Karissa said.
“I’m not,” I said. “It’s annoying having her out there, wondering what she’s doing. Wondering if
she’s going to knock on my door or something.”
Karissa and Ingrid shared a look.
“You should come to book club,” Ingrid said.
“What does that have to do with anything?” I asked. “And we’ve had this conversation before.”
“Because we know you’d like it,” Karissa said. “You would, I promise.”
If only to get them to stop bugging me, I said, “Fine. I will come to one book club meeting. You’ll
have to tell me what the book is so I can read it.”
Karissa was thrilled, and I really hoped I wasn’t going to regret saying yes. On the other hand, if I
hated it, then I’d never have to go again, and they’d stop pestering me.
That launched a conversation about books, and soon Athena started piling her books on our laps,
in a very subtle hint. We took turns reading them to her until it was time for her to take a nap.
“You look happy,” I told Karissa as we sat together while Ingrid put Athena down.
“I am happy,” she said. “I didn’t know it was possible to be this happy. Sometimes I feel like it’s
going to kill me. It’s too much, too big.”
She smiled and leaned into the couch. “We’re going to try for another baby soon too.”
“Shit, Karissa. Engagement and a house and another baby?” That was so much change in such a
short time.
“I know it’s a lot, believe me. But Ingrid had already been planning on a second when she met me,
and Athena’s almost ready for school, so I’m up for it.”
Sometimes I found her life terrifying. I was just getting used to living by myself and here she was,
ready to have a baby in addition to a toddler. And a kitten.
“She’s down,” Ingrid said, coming out of Athena’s room and then leaning on the wall. “I think I
need some more mama juice.”
“Mimosas?” Karissa suggested.
“Mmm, perfect,” Ingrid said, so we all had mimosas and talked about the things we couldn’t talk
about when Athena was awake.
“You should go knocking and get that van rocking,” Karissa said when the conversation swung
back around to talking about the Sterling situation.
“Oh my god, Karissa, that is one of the worst things you’ve ever said.” I hid my face behind one
of the throw pillows as Ingrid burst out laughing.
“It’s a good thing I wasn’t drinking anything because it would be all over the couch right now and
I would definitely make you clean it,” Ingrid said when she could breathe again.
Karissa was very pleased with herself, and it took me a little while to get myself together.
“I’ve been holding onto that one forever,” Karissa said.
“I’m leaving,” I said, pretending to get up, but Karissa grabbed onto me and yanked me back
down.
“Oh, come on, it wasn’t that bad of a joke.”
 “It was,” Ingrid said, leaning her head onto Karissa’s shoulder. “But I still love you.”
“I should hope you love me. You should definitely love your fiancée,” Karissa said.
They both held their ringed hands out and admired them.
I had to swallow past an unexpected lump of emotion that I couldn’t quite name.
I suggested watching a movie, which they agreed to, but we only got halfway through it before
Athena was up and we had to turn it off since it wasn’t appropriate for little ears.
Knowing that the van would probably be parked at my house when I went back was what made
me agree to stay for dinner.
Athena begged for pizza, so we each made our own, with whatever toppings we wanted. I
covered mine with olives and sausage and green peppers. The sauce was incredible, made by
Karissa’s father from his very own heirloom tomatoes. Every time I came over to their house, I
usually ended up with a jar of it to take home that I rationed as much as I could because it was so
delicious.
“Who is your dad dating?” I asked her.
“He won’t tell me! It’s so frustrating,” she said as we shoved the pizzas in the oven. “I keep trying
to get it out of him, but he’s got that secret locked down. I even tried to ask Clive and Bud, but they
have his back. Thick as thieves, those three guys. I guess I’ll find out if it gets serious.”
“You could always spy on them,” I said, grabbing a handful of shredded cheese from the bag and
eating it.
Athena lurked near my elbow and reached for the container of pepperoni. I opened it and gave her
one within the full view of her mom and Karissa, who both narrowed their eyes at me.
“I’m not going to spy on my dad and his date. I’m tempted, but I don’t want to ruin anything for
him. Just the fact that he’s going out with someone makes me happy.”
Athena begged for a blanket fort in which to eat our pizza, so I dove into helping her build one in
the living room, which we did, on piles of pillows and blankets.
It was the best way to spend a Saturday, even if I didn’t get to make out with a pretty woman at
Sapph. At least I didn’t have to drive that far to get home.
After the pizza, I hugged everyone and congratulated Karissa and Ingrid again.
“Mia and my dad are throwing us an engagement party, so expect news on that soon,” Karissa said
as she walked me out.
We hugged again and she told me to drive safe.
The van was there when I got home.

I TOOK a shower and decided to stay up late reading the fantasy book and sleep in on Sunday.
Sterling must have known I was still awake when she knocked on my door after ten. I’d already
changed into my pajamas and I wasn’t wearing a bra, but I was past caring about it. I’d moved on to
annoyed.
“What the hell do you want?” I asked when I opened the door to find her standing on my porch
wearing a sweatshirt, shorts, and socks with sandals.
“I went shopping today and ended up at the bookstore. I had the feeling that you’d shopped there
before, so I asked the bookseller to find a book she thought you might like that you wouldn’t already
have,” she said, holding out the paperback.
 It was a book that I’d seen but hadn’t read yet about a political activist who agrees to work for a
shadowy organization to bring down a corrupt mayor, with an incredible ice queen boss as the love
interest. I’d been holding out on buying it for some reason.
“Oh,” I said, my hands closing around the book. I was completely taken aback by the gift.
“I can’t really buy a lot of physical books for myself, so I buy them for other people. It scratches
the same itch,” she said.
“Thank you,” I finally said, looking up into her face. Her hair was in messy buns again, like the
night we’d met.
“I know it’s late, but I wanted to give that to you,” she said, tapping the cover of the book.
“Did you want to come in?” I asked, and then wanted to hit myself in the face with the book for
asking. “For tea or something?”
Sterling smirked. “Or something? I like the sound of that.”
She barged right by me and let herself into my house. I really shouldn’t have invited her in. I
sighed and closed the door. Sterling was kind of like a vampire. Once you invited her in, it was hard
to get her to leave. I tried not to think about Sterling biting my neck as she went to the kitchen and
started making tea.
“I’m in the mood for honey lavender, how about you?” she asked, turning from my tea cabinet.
“Sure, Sterling, you can have some of my tea thank you for asking,” I said, crossing my arms.
“I brought you a book,” she said, not looking up from one of the tins of tea.
I blew out a breath. “That’s not–” There was no point in arguing with her. She was going to do
what she was going to do. And I did want tea, coincidentally.
Sterling made the tea and brought it over, along with some cookies she found.
“So, what did you spend your Saturday doing?” she asked, curling her feet up on the couch and
facing me.
“What did you do?” I asked, sipping the tea that she’d added honey to. Just the right amount.
“I asked you first,” she fired back.
Fair enough. “I went over to my friend Karissa’s house and hung out with her and her girlfriend, I
mean fiancée, and their daughter.” It was easier to just say that Athena was Ingrid and Karissa’s. I
assumed when they got married that they’d put in the paperwork to have Karissa added as a parent.
“Would that be Karissa Ballencourt and Ingrid Davidson?” she asked, and I almost dropped my
cup of tea in shock.
“How did you know that?” I asked.
Sterling picked up a cookie and munched on it. “I lurked around town and paid attention. Your
friend at the bookshop, Joy, was more than happy to tell me all about her local friends.”
“So you’re stalking me now, is that it?” I was only partially joking.
“No, I’m not stalking you. Just making friends. Am I not allowed to do that?” Her eyes narrowed.
I wasn’t sure what to say to that.
“I had to film a bunch of content for my social pages. Got to keep that machine going,” she
volunteered.
“What kind of content?” I asked.
“Day in the life, cooking meals and that kind of thing. People are fascinated by vanlife, so it’s
pretty easy to make it look more exciting than it is. Don’t worry, I didn’t film your house or anything,
and I don’t talk about where I am specifically.”
I hadn’t even thought of that. Living alone on the road and broadcasting your location to all your
fans was definitely a bad idea.
 “Thanks?” I said.
“I take safety seriously,” she said. “I have to. My sister is convinced that I’m going to end up on a
true crime podcast. I told her to delete everything from my devices and not to say some BS about me
lighting up a room.”
That last part was a lie. She had lit up the room at Sapph. At least she had for me.
I cleared my throat so I wouldn’t fall right into those memories again.
“Got any plans for tomorrow?” she asked, finishing her tea.
“Not really,” I said. I didn’t want to commit to anything and then have her invite herself along.
“Well, I won’t be here. I have to drive around and get some aesthetic footage for my social media
pages. So if you were worried about me being around, I won’t be,” she said, setting the empty cup
down on the coffee table.
That was kind of a relief. I could chill on my couch with my books and not think about her for a
whole day.
“Let me know how you like that book,” she said, and it was like she couldn’t get out of my house
fast enough after pushing her way in.
She shut the door before I could even say goodnight.
Strange.
 Chapter Five

S TERLING WAS GONE by the time I got up on Sunday after a late night of reading. The weather was
unusually warm, so I put an audiobook on my phone and took a little walk along the side of the road,
waving to every car and truck that passed. A few would stop to say hello, and I tried not to be too
annoyed at them for interrupting my book.
My walk brought me to downtown Arrowbridge, and I stopped at the gas station to get a drink, a
candy bar, and a bag of chips to munch on. A bunch of local guys were sitting at the counter on one
side of the interior ordering takeout subs and pizzas. While the pizza here wasn’t bad, it couldn’t hold
a candle to Nick’s down the street. That pizza was my absolute favorite. If they delivered, I would
probably eat it every night of the week.
Every now and then I would see a blonde head of hair and do a double take, thinking that it might
be Sterling. Her hair was so bright though, that it didn’t happen often.
I told myself I shouldn’t, but I did swing into Mainely Books. Joy wasn’t working, which was
almost a relief. I checked out a new display and looked on the romance shelves to see if there was
anything that struck my fancy. There wasn’t anything new that I absolutely had to have, so I decided to
hit the bathroom before I left. There was a door across from the bathroom that said EMPLOYEES
ONLY and I heard a thud and then giggling, followed by a shushing sound and then a tiny little moan.
Someone was getting busy. I went into the bathroom and tried not to listen to any other noises, but
I didn’t hear anything. I washed my hands and left the bathroom, throwing one last look behind me, but
I didn’t hear anything else.
The regular employee, Erin, was out front at the register, so I didn’t know who was hooking up in
the other room and as far as I was concerned, it was none of my business. More power to them.

STERLING WAS STILL GONE when I got back, sweaty and tired and ready to take a cool shower
and devote the rest of my day to reading. I made sure my ereader was fully charged and set a snack
plate within reaching distance of the couch before settling in and shutting out everything else. Of
course, a message came through on my phone just as I’d started my first book. I’d forgotten to put my
phone on silent.
I read the message and typed out a quick response. My mom, checking in on me like she did every
few weeks. She and I weren’t exactly close, and my dad was a one-night-stand who she’d never even
told she was pregnant and who I’d never met.
There were a lot of people who probably shouldn’t have had children, and while I wouldn’t say
that I didn’t love my mom, she did not enjoy being a parent. She still worked as an ER nurse and
nursing professor, and she’d rarely been around for anything when I was a kid. Sometimes I thought
she cared more for her patients than she did for me. And then there was the fact that I dashed all her
hopes for me to go to a four-year college and then get advanced degrees like she had. I rarely went to
visit her since she randomly decided to move to Colorado a few years ago without telling me. The
distance worked for us.
I’d just put my phone on silent and set it aside when there was that knock at my door.
“Fucking hell,” I said, putting my ereader aside again. I would never know peace again.
“What?” I asked when I opened the door.
“I’m out of ranch dressing,” she said. “Can I bother you for some?”
“No,” I said, leaning against the door. “No, you can’t.”
“Seriously?” she asked, and she just looked so dejected that I rolled my eyes and changed my
mind.
“Yes, you can. But I’m busy, so go grab it and get out,” I said as she grinned at me and headed for
the kitchen.
“Don’t worry, I’ll bring it right back,” she said, waving the bottle at me and then leaving.
I shook my head and went back to the couch.

STERLING DIDN’T BRING the ranch back until over an hour later. I’d been sitting on the couch,
pretending to read and waiting for her. Interested to see what she’d do, I left the door unlocked and
called for her to come in when she knocked.
I was going for aloof with leaving the door unlocked and acting like I was too busy reading to
even spare her a thought. It took all of my concentration to keep my eyes on the ereader as a bottle of
ranch dressing dangled in front of my face.
I looked up to find her leaning over the back of my couch, her face much closer than I expected.
“Thanks, honey,” she said, and I took the bottle from her, making sure that our hands didn’t touch.
“Stop calling me that,” I said, barely able to draw a breath.
“Calling you what? Honey?” She drew out the word. “Why not?”
“Because,” I said, struggling to come up with a reason. “I don’t like it.”
“Is that it?” Sterling tilted her head to the side, regarding me. “Or is it that you like it too much?”
Her face drew closer to me and I had to shut my eyes so I wouldn’t be overwhelmed by her. I
could still feel her warmth and smell her scent, though. Surprisingly, not like ranch dressing. Sterling
smelled like…tart green apples and limes. Crisp and fresh.
“Are you hiding from me now?” she asked, and I jumped as she touched my cheek. My eyes
opened automatically.
“No,” I said.
“No, you’re not hiding from me or no you like it too much?” My thoughts were scrambled from
having her be this close and I didn’t even know how to answer.
“No,” I repeated.
She inhaled and leaned in a little bit and then blinked. “Okay, fine. Thanks for the ranch.”
 She stood up and wiggled her fingers at me, turning on her heel and heading for the door.
“Wait, what?” I said, feeling like my brain was functioning on half speed.
“You said no, and I’m a woman who respects a no. So I’m leaving. Did you not want me to
leave?” She paused with her hand on the doorknob, turning back toward me.
“You don’t…have to leave,” I said. Why didn’t I want her to leave?
“Okay. I won’t,” she said, letting go and heading back over to the couch. “But do you mind if I
read? That’s how I decompress every night and I really like my routine.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“Nothing. I just…that was unexpected.”
Sterling flopped on the other end of the couch and pulled her phone out of her pocket and I
watched as her eyes started scanning a digital page. She really was reading.
Oh.
Still a little flabbergasted, I turned on my ereader and tapped a few pages backward because I
hadn’t paid attention to anything while I’d been waiting for her.
Sterling wiggled a little to get comfortable, but otherwise she was silent.
It was strange, sitting here on the couch with Sterling. Having someone in my space but not feel
the need to talk or entertain them or do anything really.
Every few pages I’d check in to see if she was still reading and she was. I never felt her eyes on
me, not once. Her focus on her book was complete, even as she leaned her head into the back of the
couch and curled up even more, like a contented cat.
“Tea?” I finally asked.
“Sure, thanks,” she said without looking up. This time I got to choose the tea and made two cups
for us, carefully bringing them back over to the couch.
Sterling didn’t even look up from her book to take the tea from me. It must be good, if she was that
engrossed. I wanted to ask her, but I also didn’t want to bother her.
There was nothing worse than someone who tried to talk to you while you were reading an
especially good book.
I kept my questions to myself and sipped my tea and dove back into my own book.
Time passed, but I was completely unaware of it. That was one of the things I loved most about
reading. When you crawled so deeply inside someone else’s story that you even lost track of time. A
minute or an hour could have gone by and I hadn’t even felt it. It was only when I realized how badly
I had to pee that time became real again.
Somehow I even forgot about Sterling, until she sneezed and scared the crap out of me.
“Shit,” I said, putting my hand on my chest.
“Sorry,” she said. “Mind if I use your bathroom?”
“No, go ahead,” she hopped up and came back a few minutes later.
“I almost forget what it’s like to use a flush toilet sometimes,” she said, edging toward the kitchen.
“I didn’t need to know that,” I said, pretending to read, but really watching her.
“But you were definitely curious about my toilet in the van,” she said, shooting me a grin as she
searched through my kitchen cabinets for something.
“Fine, I was curious about the bathroom situation. Wouldn’t anyone be?” She shrugged and then
opened my fridge a few times. Annoyed, I got up and went to see what she was up to.
“I was feeling snackish,” she said as she rolled up slices of turkey and set them on a plate.
“I’ve got cheese and crackers and olives, and grapes, I think?” I said.
 “No caviar?” she asked, and I found myself leaning closer behind her.
“Not my style,” I said, and she looked over her shoulder at me.
“Nor mine.” That thing between us that I’d seen at Sapph pulled tight.
She was right there; we were practically touching. If I took one step closer, she’d be pressed up
against me. The irresistible urge to do that, while biting her shoulder came over me, and I forced
myself to take a step back.
Sterling noted the step back as her eyes flicked up to mine again.
“You okay over there?” she asked, turning back to the snack plate.
“Fine,” I said, shaking my head to clear any of those thoughts. Especially the bitey one.
Sterling hummed softly to herself as she made up the rest of the plate. For once, she didn’t
comment or push me. She just made up the plate and then carried it back to the couch.
“How did you like the book?” she asked.
I’d loved it. It was the best kind of slow burn, which not every author could pull off.
“How do you know I’ve read it?” I asked.
“You’ve read it,” she said, making herself a little cracker sandwich.
“Yes, I read it,” I said, reaching for some grapes. “It was perfect.”
Sterling beamed and pushed her glasses up. She did that a lot and I was really starting to like it.
“Good. It would be terrible if I bought you a book you hated.”
“If I hated it, I probably would have lied,” I said.
Sterling made a face. “You wouldn’t have hurt my feelings if you told the truth. I hate liars.”
“Or I would have told you that I hadn’t read it yet,” I said.
“Still a lie,” she said, stealing a grape from me and tossing it into her mouth.
“You’re telling me that you don’t lie?” I asked, not believing her. Everyone lied, even if they were
little white lies.
“Not if I can help it,” she said after thinking about that for a few moments.
“So, if I asked you what you thought of me, you’d be honest?” I asked.
Sterling met my gaze unflinchingly.
“I would. Are you sure you’re prepared to know? People always say they wish they could read
other people’s minds, but would you really want to hear every unvarnished truth? I don’t think so. If
you don’t want to know, you shouldn’t ask.”
I took a deep breath. “Fine, then I don’t want to know.”
Sterling’s eyes lit up and she crawled forward on the couch until she was right in front of me.
“You sure about that, honey? I’m having some very interesting thoughts about you right now,” she
said, and that voice. It undid me every single time. And the way she called me “honey.” I’d never
known a word could have an effect on me like that.
“What kind of thoughts?” My voice was barely a whisper.
She leaned closer and spoke in my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “The dirty kind.”
I had to shut my eyes again, but that didn’t shut out the sensations exploding through my body.
Sterling nipped at my earlobe with her teeth and I let out a sound that was between shock and a
whimper.
She laughed in my ear, as if she knew exactly what she was doing.
I melted as I opened my eyes and she looked at me, our noses almost touching.
“We shouldn’t,” I said, my voice thick.
“Why not?” she asked.
Once again, I couldn’t come up with a good reason. Sterling made all rules and common sense fly
right out of my head.
“Because,” I said. Her eyes flicked down and focused on my mouth.
“That’s not a reason.”
It wasn’t, but I couldn’t explain to her all my dating rules and my history when I could barely
remember my own name.
“I just…” I trailed off, my blood pounding in my ears.
“Look, if you don’t want to do anything, that’s fine,” Sterling said, sitting back, and I wanted to
grab her and yank her toward my mouth.
“I do, believe me, I do. I just…shouldn’t.”
Her forehead crinkled in confusion. “You didn’t have a problem at Sapph.”
“That was different,” I said, running my fingers through my hair.
“Should I even bother to ask?”
“Probably not.” The air cooled between us, but I was left feeling hollow and unsatisfied. And
achy. In very specific places.
“I should probably go,” she said, standing and sliding her phone in her pocket again.
“You don’t have to go,” I said, but she was already leaving.
Fuck.
I sat there for a second, telling myself that this was for the best, that this thing between me and
Sterling went against all of the rules that I had set for myself, that I had made so that someone couldn’t
get close and hurt me.
And then I was getting to my feet and heading out to her van and banging on the side door.
She slid it open and crossed her arms. “Can I help you?”
“Yes,” I said, stepping up so we were on the same level. We were almost exactly the same height,
which I always liked. Much easier to kiss and do other things.
“What can I help you with, Kai?” she asked, but we both knew what it was.
“This,” I said, reaching for her face and bringing it toward me so I could kiss her. She responded
with enthusiasm, as if it was that first night at Sapph.
Sterling dragged me backward until my back hit the edge of her bed. We both yanked at each
other’s clothes and I was so hot that I’d started to sweat.
She pulled back for a gasp of air.
“While I love this van, really, really love this van, I’d much rather take this to your bed, if we
can,” she said, panting. I was doing the same. There didn’t seem to be enough air in this damn van.
“Good idea,” I said, nodding. Sterling clasped my hand and dragged me out of the van, up the
steps, and into my own house where she kissed me mercilessly.
I didn’t think my legs were going to make it to the bedroom, so we ended up on the couch again,
with me on my back and Sterling kissing me mercilessly. Brutally. And I only wanted more.
“Get fucking naked,” she said in between licking the inside of my mouth.
“You first,” I said.
“Ugh, fine,” she said, sitting up and pulling off her shirt. She wasn’t wearing a bra underneath.
Sterling’s tattoos didn’t end at her arms. Her ribs and stomach were covered too, and several of them
didn’t end there and danced down to her hips, hidden by her shorts for now.
Her belly button was pierced with a flat silver hoop that winked at me.
“There’s so many,” I said, not even knowing where to look.
“Yeah, I have a few,” she said, looking down at herself. “But what do you think about these?”
Sterling cupped her breasts to make her point.
 Her pink nipples were already hard, and my mouth watered, wanting to get a taste of them.
“They’re perfect,” I said.
“You think so?” she asked, still holding them.
“I do.”
“Truth?” she asked.
“Truth,” I said, putting my fingers under her chin and pulling her down for a kiss.
Sterling smiled into my mouth as I kissed her and ran my hands up and down her skin. So soft. She
gasped as my hands replaced hers, cupping her breasts in my hands. They were on the smaller side
and that was absolutely fine with me. More than fine.
“I want to see you,” she whined, and let me sit up so I could take my shirt off. My bra underneath
was simple; a light blue T-shirt bra, but it was clean, and Sterling looked at me as if it was the sexiest
lacy lingerie.
“Show me what’s underneath,” she said, gently snapping one of the straps against my shoulder. I
reached behind and undid the hooks, pulling the straps over my arms. I dropped my bra on the coffee
table, making sure to avoid the snack plate.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” she said, biting her bottom lip. She touched me, gathering my
breasts with both hands and we both moaned at the contact.
“This is what I was missing that night,” she said. “All I’ve been thinking about is getting you
somewhere and stripping you bare.”
“You’ve been thinking about me?” I asked.
“Yes, Kai, I’ve been thinking about you,” she said as she leaned down and licked one of my
nipples, her eyes on my face the whole time. “Thinking about doing this.” She flicked her tongue
against my nipple, and I let out a little sound. She smiled up at me.
“What else?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
Sterling laughed, the sound rich with desire. “Oh, all kinds of terrible and wonderful things.”
I had to take a breath to steady myself. “Show me.”
“Of course, honey,” she said. “I’ll show you whatever you want.”
Sterling winked at me. She actually winked at me, and it was one of the hottest things I’d ever
seen her do.
“As much as I do love your couch, I know how you feel about it and the things I have in mind
would definitely ruin it, so,” she said, getting to her feet and holding out her hand. “Shall we?”
I followed Sterling as she led me down the hall to my own bedroom. My mind spun with all the
thoughts about how this was a bad idea, but I shoved them to the side. There would be time to deal
with that shit later. Right now, all I wanted was Sterling and I was going to let myself have her.
“I like it,” Sterling said as she looked around my bedroom. There hadn’t been much I could do
about the soft gray on the walls, so I’d put up lots of art, and some string lights around the window.
I gasped as Sterling put her hands on my shoulders and pushed me until I fell on the bed.
“You’ve got an extra set of sheets and blankets, right?” she asked as she stood above me.
“Yes?” I said, taken aback by the question.
“Good, because these are definitely getting dirty,” she said, reaching for the waistband of my
pants to pull them down.
“You’re awfully confident in your skills, Sterling,” I said, savoring saying her name.
She fluttered her tongue at me and everything in my lower half clenched in response.
“I know what I’m doing, Kai.”
I pushed myself up on my elbows. “Then show me.”
 Sterling’s answer was to yank my pants off, along with my underwear.
“Cute,” she said, laughing as she held them up and then tossed them on the floor. They had little
cartoon pineapples on them.
“I didn’t know I’d be getting naked with you, so I didn’t consider my underwear choices this
morning,” I grumbled.
Sterling stared down at me. “Honey, I’m not thinking about your underwear right now.”
She smiled in a wicked way and I could barely breathe. Before I could ask, she shucked her
shorts. No underwear for her. Her entire body was a patchwork of tattoos and I wanted to lick and
bite every one of them.
“Come here,” I said, reaching for her and she laid herself on top of me, covering me with all that
bright, bold skin.
Sterling brushed my hair back. “Fast or slow?”
“Yes,” I said, kissing her and swallowing her laugh.
“I’ll do my best,” she said, gazing down at me and then traced my mouth with one finger. It was
such a sweet gesture that I froze for a second.
Then Sterling was kissing me again, rocking her hips against mine and it was anything but sweet. I
moaned as I opened my legs and let her settle between them.
Sterling rose up and threw her head back. “Fuck, I’ve wanted you so bad that I can’t even think.”
The only word I could think to say was, “Please.”
Sterling practically growled as she kissed me again in that vicious way as she pinched one of my
nipples with her hand, making me arch into her.
She broke the kiss and followed the touch of her hand with her teeth and I gasped.
“That’s it, honey. Let me hear you.”
One hand dug into her shoulder, but she didn’t seem to mind.
Sterling fluttered her tongue against my nipple, a taste of things to come, and I couldn’t stop
making all kinds of noises that I’d never heard myself make. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d
even had a hookup in a bed, or where I didn’t have to worry about someone barging in.
Sterling alternated between hard and soft as she teased and tasted my nipples and I’d never
thought I could come just from that, but I was close already. So close.
“Sterling,” I gasped, and put one hand on her head, gripping onto one of those cute little buns.
“You want fast now, honey?” she asked before she gently kissed each nipple and started licking
her way down my stomach. My skin looked so plain next to hers, but she didn’t seem to mind.
“I’ve been dying to kiss this little belly,” she said as she reached the soft area right under my belly
button. In certain outfits I was self-conscious about it, but Sterling licked and kissed the area as if she
was worshipping it.
“I’ll come back to you later,” she said, as if she was speaking to my belly. “Spread your legs for
me, honey,” she said, so I did, revealing myself to her.
She inhaled and then smiled in satisfaction at what she found. “I told you I would have ruined
your couch,” she said, and then swiped her hand through the wetness that was already there. Sterling
held her fingers up so I could see before she sucked them into her mouth, causing me to moan.
“That’s my girl,” she purred as she settled herself between my legs, one of my hands still gripping
her bun.
Sterling gently spread me open and gazed at me until I started feeling myself blush at the intensity
of her look.
She let out a little sigh that made me sit up and look down at her.
 “What?” I asked. Was there something wrong with the way I looked?
“Nothing,” she said, flicking her eyes up. “I just love pussy. Sometimes I want to take a second to
admire it.”
She took her glasses off and carefully placed them on my nightstand.
I couldn’t move or think as she grinned at me and then gave me one long, slow lick. My arms gave
out as she circled around my clit and went back down before doing it again, this time in the opposite
direction.
“Sterling,” I gasped, my legs trembling. I couldn’t even help as she hitched both of them over her
shoulders, my heels digging into her tattooed back.
She laughed softly as she licked my entrance.
“Oh, god,” I said.
“Did you forget my name already?” she asked, and I couldn’t even laugh as she sucked my clit
into her mouth at the same time she fluttered her tongue on the underside. She had me completely at
her mercy as she tormented me with that talented tongue.
When she added one finger, and then two with expert thrusts that spoke of experience, I was gone.
“Come on, honey. Let me hear you come for me.”
In combination with her fingers, those words sent me off the edge, falling into a climax that
shattered me into a million bursts of light and heat and pleasure so intense that it didn’t seem to have
an ending or a beginning.
“That’s my girl,” Sterling said, and I could barely understand her words as she wrung the orgasm
from my body. When I felt like it might kill me, the waves finally slowed and then calmed, at least
enough for me to remember how to breathe and blink again.
Sterling set my limp legs back on the bed and pulled herself up until she laid her head sideways
on my belly.
“Well?” she asked.
“Well what?” I managed to say.
“Did that live up to your fantasies?” she asked.
“What fantasies?”
She kissed my belly. “The ones you’ve been having about me since the night we met.”
I narrowed my eyes. “That’s a bit presumptuous.”
Sterling raised her eyebrows. “Is it?”
I let out a breath. “No.”
“No?”
“No, it wasn’t like my fantasies,” I said, tugging on her bun so she’d come closer. “It was better.”
She smiled as I kissed her.
Now it was time to find out about another fantasy of mine.
“My turn,” I told her after a series of dizzying kisses.
“Is it now?” she said. “What ever will you do with me?”
“I’ve got some terrible and wonderful ideas,” I said, echoing what she’d told me earlier.
Sterling rolled on her back and looked up at me expectantly.
I stroked my hand down between her breasts and flicked at her belly ring with my fingers.
“You look like you’re plotting something,” she said, stroking a hand through my tangled hair.
“Just going through the possibilities in my mind,” I said, circling her belly button, noting with
satisfaction how she trembled just a little.
“Fast or slow?” I asked her, glancing up from looking at the tattoos on her hips. One side was
covered in flowers that danced down her thigh. The other was covered in twining leaves.
“Yes,” she said, smirking up at me.
I kissed her deeply while my hands roamed her skin. Sterling gasped when I licked my way down
her neck and across her collarbone, where tattooed birds flew. Later, I’d make her lay there so I could
ask about all the tattoos, but right now, I had other things in mind.
I treated her nipples with reverence, enjoying the sounds she made and the way her fingers dug
into my hair as I circled one with my tongue at the same time I pinched the other. This was the first
time I got to touch Sterling like this, and I wanted everything to be right. To be what she wanted. To
completely blow her mind, the way she’d blown mine.
I kissed my way down her body, finally ending up just above the apex of her tattooed thighs.
“Can you get on your stomach for me?” I asked, looking up at her.
“Since you asked so politely, I can,” she said, laughing a little bit.
Sterling lay on her front and seemed to be waiting for me to tell her what to do. The sense of
power buzzed under my skin.
“Hips up, please,” I said, and she wiggled until her front was still on the bed and her hips were
high.
Now that view was much better than a fantasy.
Sterling looked at me over her shoulder. “You like?” She wiggled her hips and I had to swallow a
whimper. She was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen in my life.
“Very much,” I said, and before I could ask, she widened her legs.
I ran my hand down her back and had an image in my mind of holding her hair while I fucked her
from behind with a strap-on. I didn’t own one, but something told me she did.
Unable to resist, I kissed first one, and then the other of her ass cheeks.
“Is it bad that I want to bite you?” I asked.
“Go ahead,” she said. “I don’t mind.”
So I did, and she moved back against me, as if unable to stop the motion of her hips.
“Kai,” she said in a voice of desperation.
I stroked her ass and then slid behind her, getting a chance to look at her for the second time.
She already glistened and I watched her drip on the bed.
“Guess I’m not the only one making a mess,” I said, and got myself into position behind her. I
blew out a breath across her skin and watched her tremble.
“Kai, please,” she begged.
“Shhh, I’m enjoying the view. You’re not the only one who loves pussy,” I said and gave her a soft
smack on the ass that made her gasp.
“Fuck, Kai,” she said, moving backward again, searching for some kind of contact or friction.
Making her wait was fun, but I had the feeling making her come would be better.
She cried out when I finally put my mouth on her. It took a few tries to find the right angle, but I
adjusted and didn’t waste any time in fucking her with my tongue before using my mouth and tongue
and teeth on her clit before driving my tongue inside her.
“Yes, yes, yes,” Sterling chanted as she worked herself against me and I let her, even though I
could barely breathe. Her desire dripped onto the bed as her movements became even more wild.
There was a tiny edge of frustration that built in the way she moved, and I could tell that she
needed more.
“Do you need my fingers inside you, honey?” I asked, imitating her accent.
“Yes,” she gasped. “Yes, yes.”
 I drove two fingers inside her, and she let out a moan of what sounded like relief. While she
rocked herself backwards onto my fingers, I used my other hand on her clit, and soon I could feel her
getting closer and closer, clenching around my fingers.
“You’re so fucking wet, Sterling, I’m definitely going to have to change the sheets.”
She called out and thrust her hips faster and I added a third finger to stretch and fill her. Her hips
pounded back against me, relentless in her pursuit of her own pleasure.
She was magnificent. I started telling her how gorgeous she was, how she looked being fucked by
me and the words made her gasp and clench around me, her own climax seizing her body as she
called out and continued to slam backwards against me to prolong her orgasm.
She came and came, drenching the bed and my hands, but I’d never been happier.
Her body finally stilled, and I pulled out of her as she trembled and glanced at me over her
shoulder with lust-dazed eyes.
“Looks like I wasn’t the one who ruined the bed,” I said, holding up both hands.
“Sorry about that,” she panted, but her smile told me she wasn’t sorry at all.
“I’m not,” I said, licking a few of my fingers as she watched.
Sterling laughed, a low, husky sound. “I think you’re just as dirty as I am.”
“Oh, Sterling, you have no idea,” I said, leaning forward to kiss her.
 Chapter Six

“AND THIS ONE?” I asked, tracing my fingers along the vines on her hip.
“Got that one right after the other hip. I was in my flower era,” she said, laughing. Sterling had
been a good sport about me asking about some of her tattoos.
“They’re beautiful,” I said, tracing the line of one of the vines.
“Thank you,” she said. “Not everyone appreciates them.”
“I can imagine. What did your parents and your sister think?” I asked.
She gave me a thin smile. “Well, my parents were horrified at first, but they’ve sort of accepted
things. My sister just makes comments about how I’ve become a human coloring book, but I think
she’s grateful now that people can definitely tell us apart, even though we’ve always been so
different. I personally don’t think we look anything alike.”
She rolled her eyes and continued to stroke the ends of my hair.
“I can’t imagine having an identical twin,” I said. “Seeing someone who has the same face as
me.”
Sterling shrugged one beautiful shoulder. “I don’t know what it’s like to not have an identical
twin. When we were younger, my mom tried to dress us alike, but it lasted about a week. Neither
Gwen or I was into it.” She snorted. “We might have opposite personalities, but we both got the same
genetic stubborn streak.”
It was clear that Sterling adored her sister, no matter how different they might be.
“How often do you see her?” I asked.
“Not as much as I should,” she said, and sighed. “What about your family? I feel like we only talk
about mine.”
“I’m not close with my family. It’s really just me and my mom, and we’ve never understood each
other. She never really wanted kids. I never met my dad. I used to have dreams about him showing up
and rescuing me and taking me off to his mansion, but that never happened so I gave up.” I had no idea
why I was telling her all this. We barely knew each other, but sometimes it was easier to tell things to
a stranger than someone you knew well.
“That must have been tough,” she said, her fingers trailing down my shoulder.
“I guess. Like you said, I didn’t know anything different.”
“Have you ever tried finding him on your own?” she asked, her voice gentle.
“I’ve thought about it, but no. Since he doesn’t know I exist, I don’t want to just show up and drop
that bomb on him,” I said.
“He might be thrilled to have a daughter,” she said, and I let out a frustrated sound.
 “I don’t want to talk about my dad.”
Sterling’s eyes lit up. “Then what do you want to do?”
Instead of telling her, I flipped until my legs were close to her face and hers were close to mine.
She watched me get closer and then lifted her leg, laying it along my side so I could get better
access to her.
I kissed the area just above her clit.
“I was thinking about something like this,” I said, licking the area.
Sterling scooted closer to me, arranging herself so she could mirror my position.
Concentrating on giving her what she needed while she worked on me was a challenge, but
Sterling seemed determined to get me off first, as if I’d issued some sort of contest.
My hips drove toward her face as she devoured me and gave me everything I needed as I tried to
do the same for her. My fingers gripped her ass so hard that I knew she was going to have marks in the
spaces between the tattoos. She did the same as my legs shook and she ravaged me. Unable to hold
back anymore, I came and tried to keep licking her with my tongue, but it was nearly impossible.
“You’re so fucking sweet, Kai,” she said as I came down from my climax, but I wasn’t done yet. I
moved back and looked at her.
“I want you to come all over my face. I want you to cover me in it,” I said, and she whimpered.
“Do you need to change positions? Is that what you need?” I asked as I stroked her ass.
“Yes,” she said.
While a little disappointed that this hadn’t worked for her, I wasn’t giving up. Sterling was going
to come, and I was going to make it happen.
I wiped my face and moved until I was on my back near the head of the bed.
“The headboard is sturdy. Use it,” I said, and she climbed on top of me, positing herself over my
mouth and then lowering down, moaning when she came in contact with my tongue. I tapped her hip
twice and she immediately lifted up again.
“Don’t stop until you come, got it? You can ride my face all night if that’s what it takes. Don’t.
Stop.”
Sterling looked down at me, her chest heaving, and she nodded and lowered herself again. I
wasn’t worried about breathing because I knew that if I tapped that hip again, she would stop.
I clutched at her ass, urging her to thrust herself against me, letting her set the pace and the
pressure that she needed. My headboard banged into the wall as she jacked her hips against my
mouth, and I took everything she had to give.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she chanted as her pace grew frenzied and I could feel she was close. It was
too bad my mouth was busy on her so I couldn’t whisper filthy things in her ear.
Next time. If we could still function after this. I clenched her ass and then smacked one cheek and
felt her let go, her body shaking atop mine as she did come all over my face, chin, and down my chest.
Sterling shuddered a few more times and then rested herself back on my chest before swinging her
leg over with a grunt and collapsing next to me.
“That was… You were…” she said, looking up at the ceiling as if she couldn’t even speak.
“Really?” I asked, turning on my side to face her.
She looked at me with a beautiful, sated smile.
“I was kind of scared I was going to break your nose, but near the end I almost didn’t care.”
I laughed and pushed some damp hair out of my face.
“It would have been a worthy sacrifice,” I said.
Sterling tapped my nose with one of her fingers. “It’s a very cute nose though. Shit, I’ve made a
mess of you, haven’t I?”
“Little bit,” I said.
“Then how about we clean you up?” She stood and walked out of the room, pausing in the
doorway to toss me another smile that had my insides warming with something I couldn’t put a name
to.
“Absolutely,” I said, following her to the bathroom.
We showered together and washed each other’s hair before I found her a spare towel that she
wrapped around herself and sat on the living room couch to comb out her hair while I stripped my
bed and tossed all the bedding in the washer. I’d make it up again later.
Sterling seemed to be lost in thought as I sat next to her, also still wearing my towel. She’d put her
glasses back on at some point.
She looked over at me and for some reason I burst out laughing, and so did she.
“I don’t even know what just happened,” I said when the giggles subsided.
“Do you need me to explain it to you? I could draw diagrams,” she said, and I gently smacked her
arm.
“I know what we did, Sterling, I was there. I just mean…I didn’t know what was going to happen
when you knocked on my door tonight. Did you?”
“No,” she admitted. “But I wasn’t ruling it out. I’m not going to lie and say you haven’t been
constantly on my mind, Kai. I’ve thought about you a lot.”
Shit. That was exactly what I was afraid of.
“I don’t want a relationship, Sterling,” I said, and she blinked once before tilting her head to the
side.
“Who said anything about a relationship?”
Had I misread things? “I thought that’s where you were heading.”
She shook her head. “Not at all. I’m not asking you to fall in love with me, or even date me, Kai.
I’m not asking you for anything.”
Good. I didn’t have anything to give, even if she’d wanted it.
“I’m only here until I get back on the road, so what I was thinking is that maybe we can have a
little fun together. If you wanted.” I’d never seen her look so unsure before, that cocky edge gone.
Repeat encounters weren’t my style, but everything with Sterling had been different. What would
it matter if we hooked up while she was here? We both knew what we were getting into and since
we’d set expectations at the outset, we could avoid any complications.
“I want,” I said. “If you do.”
Sterling laughed. “I think it’s safe to say that I do.” She got off the couch and dropped the towel,
picking up her sweatshirt and then going to retrieve her shorts from my bedroom before coming out
dressed in them again, her wet hair dripping on her shoulders.
“Leaving?” I asked, although it was obvious.
“I’ve got a few things I need to get done in the van,” she said, coming over and leaning on the arm
of the couch.
“Got it,” I said, feeling naked even though I was covered in my towel.
“I guess I’ll see you later? Feel free to knock on the van anytime. I don’t have ranch dressing, but
I’ve got wine.”
Her eyes went to my mouth and I couldn’t help but lean forward to kiss her.
“I’ll let you know,” I said.
“Bye, honey,” she said, her voice soft.
“Bye,” I said.
The house was so quiet when she left.
 Chapter Seven

CAROL-ANNE HAD a vacation day on Monday, and it felt like a vacation day for me too. Megan came
out behind the line and helped me, and she was a lot better and faster than Carol-Anne, who spent the
majority of her day gossiping, online shopping, and fighting with her relatives. The employment
standards at this institution were not as high as my own, but unless she did something truly egregious,
they weren’t going to fire her.
Even with a shortage of jobs, it was hard to find someone who could pass the background check
and also be fine with the low pay.
“I’ve got interviews scheduled for next week,” Megan said in a lull. Mondays and Fridays were
always hectic, and this had been especially busy.
“We really need a third teller,” I said as someone pulled up to the drive thru.
Megan sighed. “Believe me, I know. I had to fight to get them to agree to hire someone.”
She might have been the manager, but she was beholden to the executives who worked in a
building far away from customers, and who spent their days golfing with their friends and having long
business lunches. I didn’t know anything about golf, but I was sure that I could learn if I would get
paid six figures a year to play it.
I thought about what Karissa had said, and how unhappy I was here. When we’d been working
together, it hadn’t been nearly as bad. Now that I didn’t have my sidekick, it was just all the worst
parts of the job, every single day. For miserable pay.
“Please pick someone good,” I told her, and she laughed.
“I’ll do my best. I know how important it is to have a solid team behind the line.” I knew she
couldn’t make any digs about Carol-Anne, but she gave me a look and I knew what she was thinking.
Megan was the one who had to deal with Carol-Anne dramatically calling out or leaving early or
pulling her aside to tell her that she had to spend more time working and less time doing other things.
I didn’t envy Megan at all.
The van was in my driveway when I got back, and I couldn’t help but be excited.
The door slid open as I got out of the car and grabbed my stuff. I’d called in an order before I left
work and picked up pizza at Nick’s.
“Hey, neighbor,” Sterling called, hopping out and walking over to me as I swung my bag over my
shoulder.
“Hey,” I said, ignoring the little flutters in my stomach as I saw her.
“Need any help?” she asked as I grabbed the pizza box and the bag with salad, garlic knots, and
mozzarella sticks, juggling them so I didn’t drop anything.
Another random document with
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se manifester, et déjà un grand nombre de pèlerins affrontaient les dangers
d’un voyage long et difficile pour visiter le tombeau du Sauveur. L’abbé du
Mont-Saint-Michel, cédant à l’attrait de sa piété et à l’élan de sa foi, quitta la
Normandie avec plusieurs religieux et s’embarqua pour la Palestine. Le
navire qui les portait aborda dans l’île de Chypre, où une épreuve sensible
leur était réservée: l’un des chefs de la caravane, l’abbé Théodoric, épuisé
par l’âge et la fatigue, mourut dans un monastère dédié à saint Nicolas; en
expirant, il dit qu’il allait faire son entrée dans la céleste Jérusalem au
moment où il se proposait de pénétrer dans la Jérusalem terrestre. Après lui
avoir rendu les honneurs de la sépulture, les pèlerins normands continuèrent
leur voyage et arrivèrent dans la cité sainte, en juillet 1058; le 29 du même
mois, Radulphe de Beaumont fut atteint d’une maladie mortelle qui
l’emporta en quelques heures. La nouvelle de ce décès ne parvint que
longtemps après au Mont-Saint-Michel; ce qui explique pourquoi deux ans
s’écoulèrent avant la nomination de son successeur.
Ranulphe de Bayeux, qui avait gouverné le Mont pendant l’absence de
Radulphe de Beaumont, fut élu par les religieux en 1060. Cette prélature est
l’une des plus longues et des plus glorieuses que nous offre l’histoire du
Mont-Saint-Michel. Ranulphe développa une grande activité pour continuer
les travaux que ses prédécesseurs avaient entrepris. «Pendant le temps qu’il
fut abbé, dit dom Huynes, il fit faire la nef de l’église, laquelle plusieurs fois
a esté réédifiée tantost d’un costé tantost de l’autre, et fit plusieurs autres
belles choses qui ne se voyent plus.» Il disposa dans les cryptes un cimetière
pour l’inhumation des moines, et, comme à cette époque la Normandie était
sans cesse exposée aux attaques du dehors, il fortifia l’abbaye surtout du
côté du septentrion. De plus, à l’exemple des seigneurs féodaux chargés de
défendre eux-mêmes leurs domaines et de protéger la vie ou la liberté des
arrière-vassaux, il prit les moyens indispensables pour la sûreté du
monastère et de la ville. Son zèle ne s’arrêta pas à ces mesures de prudence.
Les clercs et les habitants du Mont, obligés de se rendre à Avranches pour
paraître devant l’officialité, étaient exposés à mille vexations et à mille
dangers, surtout de la part des Bretons. Ranulphe porta des plaintes à
l’évêque, Jean de Bayeux. Celui-ci accueillit sa demande avec bienveillance,
et lui conféra les pouvoirs d’archidiacre avec le droit de juger les affaires
litigieuses qui seraient dévolues à son tribunal, excepté les causes majeures,
par exemple la dissolution des mariages et les épreuves par le fer chaud. En
retour, l’abbé du Mont-Saint-Michel devait donner chaque année à l’évêque,
le jour de la Purification de la Vierge, un vêtement complet, trois livres
d’encens, autant de poivre, et six tablettes de cire avec trois cierges; les
religieux s’engageaient aussi à porter tous les ans le chef de saint Aubert à la
cathédrale d’Avranches. Les annalistes rapportent que dans ces processions
Dieu se plaisait à manifester la gloire de son serviteur par des prodiges
éclatants. Un jour, disent-ils, les religieux, après avoir célébré la messe dans
l’église de Saint-André, parcoururent selon la coutume les principales rues
de la ville, avant de reprendre le chemin du Mont; parmi les fidèles qui se
pressaient sur leur passage pour vénérer les précieuses reliques, une femme
paralysée fut guérie par l’ombre de saint Aubert. Ce miracle, opéré à la vue
d’une grande multitude, servit encore à augmenter la vénération qui
entourait la mémoire de l’illustre fondateur du Mont-Saint-Michel.

Fig. 29.—Le duc Guillaume et son armée viennent au Mont-Saint-Michel. Fragment de la Tapisserie
de Bayeux.

La dignité, conférée à Ranulphe, fut transmise à ses successeurs, et,

comme l’attestent les actes et les sceaux qui nous ont été conservés, les
abbés du Mont rendirent longtemps la justice, et possédèrent plusieurs
privilèges ou exemptions, qui suffisent pour nous prouver toute l’influence
dont ils jouissaient, soit auprès des évêques, soit dans les cours de
Normandie et d’Angleterre. Cette influence se manifesta surtout dans les
graves événements qui accompagnèrent et suivirent la conquête de 1066.
Pendant les premières années de la prélature de Ranulphe, l’Angleterre
vécut en assez bonne intelligence avec la Normandie, et les deux princes qui
devaient bientôt se mesurer dans les plaines d’Hastings firent ensemble le
voyage du Mont-Saint-Michel. On les vit à la tête des guerriers normands
chevaucher côte à côte dans les chemins qui conduisaient d’Avranches au
mont Tombe. Leur entretien était amical, et ils égayaient leurs compagnons
d’armes par des saillies vives et spirituelles. Ce défilé est représenté sur la
fameuse tapisserie de Bayeux, dite de la reine Mathilde (fig. 29). Le Mont-
Saint-Michel y apparaît dans le lointain sur une éminence; les seigneurs de la
suite de Guillaume portent un casque muni d’un nasal immobile et sont
couverts d’une cotte de mailles qui descend des épaules aux genoux; les
autres soldats sont coiffés d’un bonnet et vêtus d’une tunique: tous ont pour
armes des boucliers, des épées et des lances, à l’exception d’un seul qui tient
une massue à la main; la croix est figurée sur l’étendard, et une inscription
en latin porte ces mots:

HIC: VVILLEM: DVX: ET EXERCITUS: EIUS:

VENERUNT: AD: MONTE: MICHAELIS.

«Ici Guillaume et son armée vinrent au Mont-Saint-Michel.» Quand ils

eurent fléchi le genou dans le sanctuaire de l’Archange, Guillaume et Harold
marchèrent sur la Bretagne pour soumettre Canon II; ils franchirent la rivière
à côté de Pontorson, atteignirent leur ennemi à Dol et le forcèrent à prendre
la fuite jusqu’à Rennes où il rallia ses forces. De Dol les vainqueurs se
portèrent sur Dinan dont ils se rendirent maîtres après une lutte opiniâtre. La
paix une fois conclue avec le duc de Bretagne, Guillaume revint à Bayeux,
reçut d’Harold le serment de fidélité et lui promit la main de sa fille. Cette
bonne entente ne devait pas être de longue durée. A la mort d’Édouard le
Confesseur, les deux princes qui convoitaient le trône d’Angleterre prirent
les armes et se déclarèrent une guerre d’extermination. En 1066, Harold périt
à la bataille d’Hastings, et après de brillantes victoires, qui méritèrent à
Guillaume le titre de Conquérant, l’héritage de saint Édouard passa aux
mains des ducs de Normandie.
Le Mont-Saint-Michel et surtout le puissant Archange ne restèrent pas
étrangers à cette expédition. Les guerriers normands, qui franchirent le
détroit, abordèrent sur les côtes de la Grande-Bretagne la nuit de la fête de
saint Michel. «Guillaume, dit dom Huynes, l’an mil soixante six passa en
Angleterre avec une grande et puissante armée pour la subjuguer. Là, ayant
pris terre la nuict de la feste st Michel, ange gardien de la Normandie, il fit
mettre le feu à tous ses navires pour faire entendre à son armée qu’il falloit
vaincre ou mourir.» Avant le combat, les Normands se confessaient à leurs
prêtres, et se recommandaient à leurs saints protecteurs du paradis; les
Saxons, au contraire, passaient les nuits qui précédaient les batailles à
chanter et à vider des cornes remplies de bière et de vin. Le frère de
Guillaume, Robert de Mortain, se distinguait par sa confiance envers le
belliqueux Archange non moins que par sa bravoure militaire; il montait un
superbe coursier et portait un étendard sur lequel était gravée l’image de
saint Michel. A la journée d’Hastings, le vaillant guerrier tenait ce drapeau
d’une main, et de l’autre combattait à la tête des lignes. A ses côtés on voyait
Taillefer, célèbre entre tous les Normands. «Pour provoquer les Saxons à la
lutte, dit Augustin Thierry, il poussa son cheval en avant du front de bataille
et entonna la chanson de Charlemagne et de Roland; en chantant, il jouait de
son épée, la lançait en l’air avec force et la recevait dans sa main droite.»
Plus tard, Robert de Mortain aimait à rappeler qu’il avait combattu les
Saxons à l’ombre du drapeau de l’Archange; il s’exprimait ainsi dans une
charte que le Cartulaire du Mont nous a conservée: «Moi Robert, par la
grâce de Dieu, comte de Normandie, embrasé de l’amour divin, ayant porté
pendant la guerre l’étendard de saint Michel, je confirme toutes les donations
que le roi Édouard a faites aux religieux sur le territoire anglais.» Par cet
acte de générosité, ajoute dom Huynes, Robert, qui avait «tousiours porté
l’enseigne sainct Michel» pendant la lutte sanglante des Normands contre les
Anglo-Saxons, «voulut, la victoire gaignée,» en rapporter l’honneur «à ce
prince de la milice céleste.» Guillaume lui-même disait plus tard qu’il avait
remporté l’un de ses succès les plus décisifs le jour de la fête de Saint-
Michel; aussi se montra-t-il pénétré de reconnaissance pour le glorieux
Archange.
Saint Michel avait protégé les guerriers normands sur le champ de
bataille; les moines du mont Tombe allaient leur prêter un puissant secours
pour introduire la civilisation française en Angleterre et assurer le succès de
la conquête. Ranulphe envoya au vainqueur six navires équipés aux frais du
monastère et lui députa quatre de ses religieux: Ruault, prieur claustral,
Scoliand, trésorier de l’abbaye, Sérle et Guillaume d’Agon. Cette générosité
était digne de l’abbé du Mont-Saint-Michel et de Guillaume le Conquérant.
Les pieux enfants de saint Benoît usèrent de leur influence pour opérer la
réforme des mœurs, rétablir la discipline ecclésiastique et corriger les abus
qui s’étaient introduits dans toute l’étendue du royaume. La réputation de
sainteté dont ils jouissaient, plutôt que la faveur du prince, leur mérita
l’honneur d’occuper une place dans l’assemblée des prélats et leur ouvrit la
porte des dignités: Ruault fut choisi pour gouverner l’abbaye fondée à
Winchester: Guillaume d’Agon monta sur le siège abbatial de Cornouailles;
Scoliand fut nommé à saint Augustin de Cantorbéry, et Serle succéda au
célèbre Westan, abbé de saint Pierre de Glocester. Scoliand dit le Vénérable
s’appliqua surtout à faire revivre l’amour de la règle dans les monastères les
plus relâchés, et les chroniqueurs ont pu dire de lui qu’il «remit en
Angleterre la discipline régulière en sa pristine splendeur.» Serle, que le
martyrologe de Hugues Mainard place au nombre des saints, fut comparé par
Guillaume de Malmesbury aux hommes les plus remarquables pour leur
science; il obtint même un rang distingué parmi les écrivains de son temps.
Défenseur du droit, ami de la vérité, il sut faire entendre de graves
avertissements aux princes et mérita d’être appelé par l’auteur de son
épitaphe le mur de l’Église, le glaive de la vertu, la trompette de la justice.
Faut-il attribuer la Chanson de Roland à l’un des Avranchinais qui suivirent
Guillaume en Angleterre? Le souvenir constant de l’auteur pour «Saint-
Michel del Péril,» la place d’honneur que la fête de l’Archange occupe dans
cette Iliade, et l’autorité de plusieurs savants de nos jours, permettent de le
croire et de l’affirmer.
Guillaume, non content de prodiguer ses faveurs aux moines bénédictins,
voulut aller en personne remercier l’Archange de la protection qu’il avait
accordée à ses armes; c’est pourquoi, après avoir repassé la Manche sur les
vaisseaux du monastère, il se rendit au Mont-Saint-Michel, où il eut la joie
de converser avec son ami Ranulphe pour lequel il professait un respect et
une affection qui ne se démentirent jamais.
La conquête d’Angleterre nous offre donc une des pages les plus
glorieuses de l’histoire du Mont-Saint-Michel. L’étendard de l’Archange a
flotté à la tête des armées qui ont triomphé des Anglo-Saxons; Ranulphe est
devenu l’ami et le conseiller de Guillaume; le souverain pontife et l’évêque
d’Avranches ont accordé des privilèges insignes au pèlerinage; la
construction de la basilique a été poursuivie avec activité, et le monastère,
comme plusieurs abbayes du moyen âge, a pris l’aspect d’une forteresse
inexpugnable. Des légendes pieuses et des épisodes intéressants ajoutent
encore un nouveau charme à l’histoire, et contribuent à dévoiler la véritable
physionomie de l’époque à laquelle nous sommes arrivés.
Il est rapporté que, vers le milieu du onzième siècle, un religieux, nommé
Drogon, vit dans la basilique trois anges sous la forme de pèlerins; ils étaient
prosternés dans l’attitude de la prière, et tenaient de la main droite un cierge
allumé, voulant par là donner un avertissement à Drogon, qui en sa qualité
de sacristain, s’était familiarisé avec les choses saintes et marchait dans
l’église sans «respect» ni «révérence.» Le religieux ne se corrigea pas; mais
bientôt, au moment où il passait devant l’autel sans faire de génuflexion, il
reçut d’un personnage invisible un soufflet qui le renversa sur le pavé du
temple. Drogon fut envoyé dans l’île de Chausey où il pleura ses péchés le
reste de sa vie: «Ceux qui liront cet exemple, dit dom Huynes, apprendront,
s’il leur plaist, à se comporter sagement dans l’église et à ne s’y pourmener
comme ils feroient dans des halles ou places publiques, de peur qu’il ne leur
arrive un semblable chastiment.» Souvent on entendait les esprits
bienheureux chanter les louanges du Seigneur dans la basilique de Saint-
Michel. Un moine d’une grande piété, connu sous le nom de Bernier, affirma
qu’il avait entendu lui-même pendant plus d’une heure le chant du Kyrie
eleison; les voix qui répétaient cette belle prière étaient si harmonieuses que
le religieux pensait être ravi au troisième ciel. Enfin, on affirmait que saint
Michel apparaissait de temps en temps sous des formes sensibles: tantôt il
avait l’aspect d’un guerrier redoutable; tantôt il ressemblait à un globe de feu
plus étincelant que le soleil. Ces récits poétiques exprimaient les fonctions
de gardien des sanctuaires et d’ange de la lumière, que le moyen âge
attribuait à saint Michel; en même temps, ils alimentaient la foi et
entretenaient le zèle des pèlerins.
Tandis que les fidèles se plaçaient avec confiance sous la protection du
chef de la milice céleste, les coupables redoutaient sa colère ou venaient à
ses pieds implorer leur pardon. Pendant la conquête d’Angleterre, un
gentilhomme nommé Roger, tua un pâtre de l’abbaye dans une forêt du
voisinage; après avoir erré longtemps, poursuivi par les soldats de
Guillaume, il vint se jeter aux genoux de Ranulphe et obtint le pardon de son
crime.
Quelques années plus tard le Mont-Saint-Michel fut le théâtre d’un
événement qui peut être regardé comme l’un des épisodes les plus curieux de
l’histoire de Normandie. Les poètes l’ont chanté tour à tour et les historiens
l’ont raconté avec ses plus petits détails.
Ranulphe, après une prélature de vingt-quatre ans, s’endormit dans le
Seigneur et fut vivement regretté de Guillaume qui l’avait toujours estimé
«comme son père, respecté comme son prélat, et révéré comme un saint.» Le
roi choisit pour lui succéder son propre chapelain, nommé Roger, homme
d’une grande valeur, mais dont l’élection parut toujours irrégulière. Deux ou
trois ans après, en 1087, Guillaume le Conquérant descendit lui-même dans
la tombe, et laissa ses États entre les mains de ses fils, Guillaume le Roux,
Robert Courte-Heuse, et Henri Beauclerc. Le premier se fit couronner roi
d’Angleterre, le second prit le titre de duc de Normandie, et le plus jeune
employa les trésors qui lui étaient échus en héritage à se procurer de riches
domaines; il prêta une somme considérable à Robert qui lui donna en gage le
Cotentin et le pays d’Avranches. Bientôt la discorde éclata entre les trois
frères. Henri Beauclerc, poursuivi par Guillaume le Roux et Robert Courte-
Heuse, se réfugia au Mont-Saint-Michel, où Roger l’accueillit avec
empressement et lui promit sa protection: ce prince, dit dom Louis de
Camps, se voyant abandonné de tous les siens, rechercha «l’assistance du
saint Archange dans son extrême nécessité. Ce qui luy réussit selon ses
désirs. Car outre plusieurs grâces inespérées qu’il y reçut de ses frères, il en
sortit par une honorable capitulation.» Vers l’an 1091, les deux alliés
envahirent les domaines du jeune Henri avec une armée nombreuse de
soldats anglais et normands; le roi Guillaume établit son quartier général à
Avranches, et le duc Robert se fixa dans le village de Genêts à une petite
distance du Mont-Saint-Michel.
Wace, dans son roman de Rou, nous dit que les deux armées ennemies en
venaient souvent aux mains sur les grèves, à la marée basse, et se séparaient
quand les flots montaient et menaçaient de les engloutir. Un jour le roi
chevauchait sans aucune escorte. Tout à coup les défenseurs de la place se
précipitent à sa rencontre le glaive à la main et engagent avec lui une lutte
acharnée. Les sangles du cheval se rompent et Guillaume tombe, la selle
entre les jambes. Le cheval effrayé prend la fuite. Le roi se relève, et se
défend avec une telle bravoure que ses ennemis ne peuvent le désarmer, ni le
faire reculer d’un pas. Les alliés étant venus à son secours le délivrèrent, et
comme ils le blâmaient d’avoir exposé ses jours pour une selle, il répondit
qu’il aurait été «moult courroucié» si les Bretons avaient pu lui enlever sa
selle, et qu’il se serait rendu indigne du titre de roi. Wace était Normand; il
l’a montré dans ce récit.
La guerre se prolongea longtemps et Henri repoussa tous les assauts de
ses ennemis; mais l’eau vint à manquer dans la place et les assiégés furent
livrés en proie aux ardeurs de la soif. Dans cette extrémité, le jeune prince fit
appel aux sentiments de la nature: il pria son frère, le duc Robert, de lui
donner de l’eau pour étancher la soif qui le dévorait. Cette prière fut
exaucée. Robert accorda un jour de trêve pour renouveler les provisions de
pain et d’eau; de plus, il fit passer à son frère un tonneau de vin. A cette
nouvelle, le roi Guillaume s’irrita contre Robert et lui dit d’un ton railleur:
«Vous êtes habile dans l’art de la guerre, vous qui fournissez des vivres à vos
ennemis!»—«Eh quoi! répondit le duc, j’aurais refusé à boire à mon propre
frère! Et s’il était mort, qui nous en aurait donné un autre.»
Après cette scène, les trois combattants déposèrent les armes: Guillaume
regagna la Grande-Bretagne; Robert se retira dans son duché, et Henri
demeura possesseur de ses domaines, en attendant le jour où la couronne
d’Angleterre devait être déposée sur son front. Il attribua toujours sa victoire
à une assistance visible de saint Michel, et, comme gage de sa
reconnaissance, il se montra le reste de sa vie le protecteur des pèlerins qui
visitaient le mont Tombe.

IV

SAINT MICHEL ET NOTRE-DAME-LA-GISANTE-DE-TOMBELAINE.

armi les événements qui remplissent la fin du onzième siècle et la
première partie du douzième, nous pouvons détacher trois faits
importants dans l’histoire de saint Michel: les croisés choisissent
l’Archange pour leur céleste protecteur, les moines l’invoquent contre
l’oppression de certains seigneurs féodaux, et les fidèles dans leur dévotion
l’associent à la Vierge connue sous le nom de Notre-Dame-la-Gisante-de-
Tombelaine (M. Corroyer) (fig. 30 à 32).
A l’intérieur de l’abbaye, Roger déployait un zèle actif pour rebâtir «une
bonne partie de la nef» de l’église; les bénédictins jouissaient à l’extérieur
d’une grande renommée, et l’un d’eux, appelé Hugues, fut choisi pour
gouverner le monastère de Saint-Sauveur-le-Vicomte. Foulques d’Anjou, le
duc Robert et Sybille son épouse, un grand nombre de prélats et de seigneurs
firent des donations aux religieux, ou entreprirent le voyage du Mont-Saint-
Michel. Cette dévotion pour le belliqueux Archange revêtait alors un
caractère spécial. L’Église favorisait l’élan religieux qui portait nos
populations vers l’Orient, et, par un acte de sage politique, elle prêchait les
croisades qui devaient faire cesser, du moins en partie, les guerres
continuelles dont l’Europe fut le théâtre aux dixième et onzième siècles. Les
guerriers qui partaient pour ces expéditions lointaines se mettaient sous la
garde de l’ange vainqueur du paganisme, et venaient en bon nombre prier
dans le sanctuaire du mont Tombe. Il n’en pouvait être autrement; car il
existe une sublime harmonie entre les deux cris de guerre «Qui est semblable
à Dieu» et «Dieu le veut.» Saint Michel était aussi pour les croisés le modèle
de la bravoure, et nous lisons dans la légende de sainte Hiltrude que le sire
de Trelon, avant de quitter sa Bretagne, promit à l’Archange d’être un preux
sur la terre comme il avait été lui-même «un preux dans le ciel.»
Le héros de la première croisade, l’immortel Godefroy de Bouillon,
voulut placer son entreprise sous la protection du prince de la milice céleste.
Dans ce but, il établit à Anvers une collégiale de plusieurs chanoines dont la
principale occupation devait être de prier pour le succès de nos armes en
Orient. La cathédrale de cette ville, dédiée à saint Michel, conserve encore
un vitrail où le duc est peint avec les chanoines qu’il avait institués. D’après
de pieux récits, l’Archange exauça les vœux des croisés; dans les grandes
batailles, il les conduisit à la victoire, et dans les dangers extrêmes, il les
préserva d’une ruine totale.

Fig. 30 à 32.—Enseignes ou images en plomb de la Vierge de Tombelaine, trouvées à Paris, dans la

Seine.

Toutefois, malgré la renommée dont le sanctuaire de l’Archange jouissait

dans le monde, Roger ne parvint pas à faire oublier le vice de son élection;
enfin, ne voulant pas s’obstiner davantage à garder une dignité à laquelle il
n’était point parvenu par les voies ordinaires de la Providence, il se retira
dans l’abbaye de Cornouailles où il mourut en 1112. Sous cette prélature, un
accident vint encore éprouver les enfants de saint Benoît: la partie de la nef
nouvellement bâtie s’écroula en 1103 et renversa la moitié de la grande salle
qui servait alors de dortoir, sans blesser aucun des religieux qui étaient
couchés, «ce qui fut tenu pour chose miraculeuse,» dit dom Louis de Camps.
Dès l’année 1106, peu de temps après le départ de Roger, le prieur claustral
de Jumièges fut désigné aux suffrages des moines qui l’acceptèrent pour
abbé. Celui-ci connu également sous le nom de Roger, était un homme d’une
grande piété et d’une science remarquable, non moins habile dans le
gouvernement spirituel que dans l’administration temporelle d’un monastère.
Il mérita par son zèle d’être placé au nombre des plus illustres serviteurs de
l’Archange.
Roger II exécuta des travaux considérables au Mont-Saint-Michel; non
content de réparer les ruines occasionnées par l’accident de 1103, il fit élever
de nouveaux bâtiments aussi remarquables pour la pureté du style que pour
la hardiesse et la solidité. Un incendie, allumé par la foudre en 1112,
n’abattit pas son courage; il se mit à l’œuvre, et, à la fin de sa prélature, il
avait achevé ces beaux édifices qui existent toujours au nord de l’abbaye et
dont M. Corroyer nous a donné la description.
Le désastre causé par le feu du ciel ne fut pas la seule épreuve réservée
aux religieux. Un seigneur, appelé Thomas de Saint-Jean, se mit à dévaster
les bois du monastère pour élever un château sur les falaises de son fief; il
refusa de payer les «vingt sols» qu’il devait au Mont-Saint-Michel, et
s’empara de plusieurs terres que les Bénédictins possédaient à Saint-Pois et à
Genêts. Roger II, incapable de résister par la force à un voisin si redoutable,
employa contre lui les armes de la prière. Chaque jour, devant l’autel du
«très-saint Archange,» on chantait le Miserere mei Deus et le Kyrie eleison
«d’une voix triste et lamentable.» A cette nouvelle, Thomas de Saint-Jean ne
peut maîtriser sa colère; vite il accourt au Mont avec ses frères et plusieurs
autres seigneurs; puis, s’adressant aux religieux, il leur dit d’un ton
courroucé: «Vous êtes bien osés, vous qui ne craignez pas de faire des vœux
pour que la vengeance du ciel s’appesantisse sur ma tête.» Eux de répondre
aussitôt avec courage: «Oui, nous supplions Dieu et son puissant Archange
de prendre notre défense, et nous ne cesserons point tant que vous exercerez
contre nous vos injustes vexations.» Thomas se laissa fléchir, et, converti par
une action subite de la grâce ou poussé par la crainte, il se jeta aux pieds des
moines et demanda pardon. A partir de ce jour, il fut un des plus généreux
bienfaiteurs du monastère. En même temps, de riches seigneurs, parmi
lesquels on cite Robert d’Avranches, Raoul Avenel, Robert de Ducey et
Robert de Saint-Denis, offrirent au Mont-Saint-Michel des églises, domaines
et revenus, jurant par le bras de saint Aubert et le glaive de l’Archange de
respecter leurs donations. L’illustre
Fig. 33.—Galerie de l’Aquilon.
 Baldric, évêque de Dol, vint lui-même, peu après l’incendie, visiter les
religieux et faire son offrande à saint Michel; c’est dans ce voyage qu’il
décrivit les armes apportées d’Irlande au huitième siècle.
L’exemple de Thomas de Saint-Jean nous révèle un des traits saillants du
culte de l’Archange sous le régime féodal. La piété des moines envers saint
Michel prit sa source véritable dans le respect et le culte des morts; mais la
crainte des vivants et le désir de se soustraire à leurs violences par
l’intervention d’un auxiliaire puissant ne furent pas étrangers au succès de
cette dévotion. Comme la prière était en honneur au milieu de cette société
profondément chrétienne, les opprimés appelaient le ciel à leur secours, et
invoquaient saint Michel à l’heure du danger. L’Archange donna son nom à
plusieurs abbayes, prieurés et chapelles; son image orna la crosse des
évêques; son nom seul était une menace contre les spoliateurs. Sans cette
connaissance de la société féodale, le culte du prince de la milice céleste,
l’histoire du Mont-Saint-Michel, en particulier, ne pourrait être comprise et
appréciée; son influence véritable resterait inconnue.
La prélature de Roger II, et plus spécialement celle de Bernard le
Vénérable permet aussi de mettre en tout son jour un point que nous avons
signalé plus d’une fois dans le cours de cet ouvrage: saint Michel a toujours
été associé à la Mère de Dieu dans la croyance et la dévotion des fidèles. La
poésie est pleine de cette idée. L’Archange a sa place en plusieurs mystères
de la Vierge Marie: on le trouve terrassant le dragon au moment de la
Conception Immaculée; à la naissance de Jésus, il dirige les chœurs
angéliques; à l’heure de l’agonie il soutient le Fils et console la Mère; il
reçoit l’âme de Marie au sortir de son corps et la conserve jusqu’à
l’Assomption; il introduit la Vierge au ciel et la présente devant l’auguste
Trinité. Il fallait un esprit aussi pur pour approcher de près et toucher la plus
sainte de toutes les créatures sorties des mains de Dieu. Dans les plus
anciennes églises érigées en l’honneur de Marie, l’Archange avait souvent
son autel; quelquefois même son sanctuaire s’élevait à côté de celui de la
Vierge. A Roc-Amadour, saint Michel, ange justicier, a donné son nom au
plateau où siégeait autrefois le tribunal de l’abbé; de plus, sur un arceau
élevé se dresse encore une petite chapelle romane dédiée à l’Archange et
placée tout près du sanctuaire miraculeux de la sainte Vierge; on y parvient
par un escalier taillé dans le vif, dont les anciennes marches usées par les pas
des visiteurs et des pèlerins attestent la vénération des peuples pour le prince
de la milice céleste.
 Au Mont-Saint-Michel, cette union est plus intime et ces rapports plus
frappants. D’après l’auteur du manuscrit intitulé: La Vie et les Miracles de
Notre-Dame, les femmes qui allaient en pèlerinage au Mont pour obtenir une
heureuse délivrance s’adressaient à la Mère de Dieu. Hildebert et Richard
construisirent la chapelle de Notre-Dame-sous-terre, et plus tard les abbés
multiplièrent les autels et les oratoires consacrés sous le vocable de Marie.
Un accident qui se rattache à l’incendie de 1112 nous révèle l’existence
d’une image miraculeuse, placée dans l’ancienne chapelle de Notre-Dame-
des-Trente-Cierges.

Fig. 34.—Enseigne de la Vierge et de saint Michel. (Quinzième siècle.)

Il est rapporté que, dans ce désastre, le feu n’épargna pas même les
cryptes souterraines; il y consuma tout, à l’exception d’une statue en bois de
la glorieuse Vierge, Mère de Dieu: cette image, dit dom Huynes, ne reçut
«aucun dommage des flammes, voire mesme le linge qui estoit dessus son
chef et le rameau de plumes qu’elle avoit en sa main furent trouvez aussy
entier et aussy beau qu’auparavent.»—«Cette image, ajoute le même auteur,
se voit encore sur l’autel de Notre-Dame-sous-terre.» Un autre moine, appelé
Gingatz, écrit à son tour: «Le lundy dix-neuvième jour d’avril de l’an mil six
cent quatre-vingt-quatorze, je trouvay, derrière la boiserie de l’autel de la
Vierge en la chapelle sous terre, une ancienne image de bois, représentant la
sainte Vierge avec le petit Jésus, qui fut miraculeusement préservée lors de
l’incendie général tant de l’église et de l’ancienne chapelle dite des Trente-
Cierges, que de tous les lieux réguliers, arrivé par le feu du ciel, l’an mil cent
douze.»
 Le principal sanctuaire de la Vierge, honorée sous le titre de Notre-Dame-
la-Gisante, était bâti sur l’îlot de Tombelaine, à une petite distance du Mont-
Saint-Michel. Les Bollandistes en attribuent l’origine aux ermites qui
élevèrent les deux oratoires de Saint-Étienne et de Saint-Symphorien; en
effet, les plus anciens annalistes, à l’exemple d’un auteur du neuvième
siècle, le moine Bernard, désignent le pèlerinage Normand sous le nom de
Saint-Michel-aux-deux-Tombes, et Gautier rapporte que saint Anastase se
retira sur le rocher de Tombelaine dans la basilique de la Mère de Dieu, où il
vécut de jeûnes et de prières. Bernard le Vénérable fit rebâtir cette église,
comme nous allons le raconter après avoir dit quelques mots du successeur
de Roger II, Richard de Mère.
Roger avait la science et les vertus d’Hildebert II, mais il eut une
existence plus éprouvée; l’un trouva l’amitié de Richard quand il jeta les
fondements de la basilique, et l’autre fut arrêté au milieu de sa carrière par
Henri I, roi d’Angleterre et duc de Normandie. Ce monarque, pour plaire à
un officier de sa cour, intima l’ordre à Roger de se retirer à Jumièges, après
avoir renoncé à tous ses titres et à toutes ses fonctions. Le pieux abbé se
soumit. Le 16 octobre, fête de Saint-Michel, il déposa le bâton pastoral sur
l’autel de l’Archange et dit adieu à tous les moines qui fondaient en larmes.
Il ne devait plus les revoir ici-bas; car le 2 avril de l’année suivante il rendit
le dernier soupir et fut inhumé dans le cimetière de Jumièges. C’était en
1123; un religieux profès de Cluny, Richard de Mère, homme d’une haute
naissance, fut choisi pour succéder à Roger II. Sous cette prélature, un
bénédictin du Mont, appelé Donoald, monta sur le siège épiscopal de Saint-
Malo; deux autres, Guillaume et Gosselin, furent élus abbés de Saint-Benoît
de Fleury et de Saint-Florent de Saumur. Richard avait trop de goût pour le
luxe et la magnificence; il indisposa contre lui tous les religieux qui
n’avaient jamais regardé son élection comme légitime, et n’approuvaient pas
ses dépenses excessives; le roi d’Angleterre, Henri I, et le cardinal Mathieu,
légat du souverain Pontife, le blâmèrent eux-mêmes de sa conduite peu
conforme à la simplicité de la vie monastique, et lui enjoignirent de se retirer
dans le prieuré de Saint-Pancrace où il mourut le 12 janvier 1131.
Le 5 février de la même année, Bernard, religieux profès de l’abbaye du
Bec et prieur de Cernon, prit le gouvernement du Mont-Saint-Michel;
comme son prédécesseur, il fut désigné par le duc de Normandie qui refusait
aux Bénédictins le droit d’élire leur abbé; toutefois ses qualités brillantes
firent oublier bien vite ce qu’il y avait d’irrégulier dans son élection. Il
montra une grande sagesse dans l’exercice de ses fonctions; en outre, il était
fort habile dans l’art de la parole et mérita la réputation d’un homme très
éloquent; mais il se distinguait avant tout par l’éclat de ses vertus, et sa piété
lui valut le titre de Vénérable. Pendant les dix-huit années de cette prélature,
la régularité la plus parfaite régna au sein de l’abbaye; Henri V, roi
d’Angleterre, Turgis, évêque d’Avranches, Osberne d’Évrecy, Raoul de
Colleville et autres seigneurs féodaux recherchèrent l’amitié de Bernard le
Vénérable, enrichirent le monastère de plusieurs domaines, et montrèrent
une grande dévotion à l’Archange saint Michel; quelques-uns même à la
suite de Richard de Boucey, de Jean et Radulphe de Huisnes, revêtirent
l’habit de saint Benoît et cherchèrent dans la solitude le bonheur que la
gloire des armes ne leur avait point donné.
Vers cette même époque, un pénitent célèbre, Ponce de Lavaze, du
diocèse de Lodève, fit un pèlerinage au sanctuaire de saint Michel, l’ange du
repentir. Le gentilhomme, après avoir déshonoré son nom par ses
brigandages, embrassa toutes les pratiques de la vie la plus austère, vendit
ses biens pour soulager les pauvres ou réparer les injustices dont il s’était
rendu coupable, et, avec six compagnons, qu’il avait gagnés à Dieu, il
entreprit nu-pieds le voyage de Saint-Jacques en Galice. Au retour, ils
visitèrent tous le Mont-Saint-Michel et plusieurs autres sanctuaires vénérés;
puis, s’étant retirés dans la solitude de Salvanès, ils y fondèrent une maison
religieuse qui fut affiliée à l’ordre de Cîteaux.
Avec la piété, les sciences et les arts florissaient dans la cité de
l’Archange. Bernard «fit réediffier la nef» de l’église, «du costé du
septentrion;» il construisit sur «les quatre gros piliers du chœur» une haute et
belle tour, qui s’écroula dans la suite; il enrichit la basilique de plusieurs
vitraux et acheta pour le culte des ornements précieux; il fit placer dans la
tour des cloches «à la voix harmonieuse et sonore.» Elles servaient à
rassembler les fidèles pour la prière, ou à prévenir les vassaux de l’approche
des ennemis. En même temps, le chef de saint Aubert fut enchâssé dans un
reliquaire en vermeil ciselé avec art et arrondi en forme de dôme; sur la
châsse on lisait l’inscription suivante: «Ici est la tête du bienheureux Aubert,
évêque d’Avranches, fondateur du Mont-Saint-Michel. Cette cicatrice est la
preuve d’un fait miraculeux; crois-le sur la parole de l’Ange.»
Le zèle de Bernard franchit les limites du cloître, et, semblable à une
flamme ardente, il communiqua au loin la lumière, la chaleur et la vie. Les
églises, les chapelles, les prieurés qui dépendaient du Mont furent en grand
nombre restaurés ou rebâtis; par exemple, à Brion, entre Genêts et Dragey,
Bernard le Vénérable fit élever une belle église et des bâtiments spacieux; en
Angleterre, il reconstruisit et dota le monastère de Saint-Michel de
Cornouailles, dont le prieur ou un autre religieux devait chaque année
accomplir le pèlerinage du mont Tombe, soit le 18 juin, fête du bienheureux
Aubert, soit le jour de la dédicace de Saint-Michel.
Le pieux abbé tourna ses regards vers l’antique monastère de Tombelaine.
Sur ce rocher solitaire, dont l’histoire est intimement liée à celle du mont
Tombe, il existait sans doute encore des vestiges de l’ancien oratoire dédié à
la Mère de Dieu; peut-être aussi les cellules habitées jadis par les gardiens de
l’îlot et par saint Anastase lui-même avaient-elles résisté aux injures du
temps et aux tempêtes si fréquentes dans la baie du Mont-Saint-Michel.
Bernard, après avoir rebâti l’église et les anciens édifices, y plaça un prieur
et deux autres moines bénédictins. Heureux sort que celui de ces hommes
dont la vie s’écoulait partagée entre la prière et l’étude, la culture d’un petit
jardin avec la garde d’un sanctuaire de Marie et la contemplation de l’Océan
qui déroulait à leurs yeux l’immensité de ses flots!
Le règne de Bernard fut fécond en grandes œuvres; mais, comme tous les
saints, le vénérable abbé se vit plus d’une fois en butte aux attaques et aux
persécutions du monde: les uns essayèrent de jeter le trouble parmi les
religieux; les autres, portant une main sacrilège sur le domaine des pauvres,
revendiquèrent une part dans les biens du monastère; à la faveur des troubles
qui suivirent la mort du roi d’Angleterre, Henri I, plusieurs habitants
d’Avranches mirent le feu à la ville du Mont-Saint-Michel, et, au
témoignage de Louis de Camps, ils réduisirent en cendre «tous les lieux
réguliers et logements des religieux,» excepté toutefois «ce grand corps de
logis où est maintenant le réfectoire: l’église ne fut pas non plus
endommagée.» De son côté Gelduin, comte de Dol, profita des troubles qui
agitaient l’Avranchin et accourut avec ses troupes ravager les terres de
l’abbaye. Bernard le Vénérable triompha de tous ses ennemis, imposant le
silence aux uns par l’énergie de sa parole, et domptant les autres par le
charme de sa vertu; mais le huitième jour de mai 1149, il s’endormit dans la
paix du Seigneur et sa dépouille mortelle reçut la sépulture dans l’église du
Mont-Saint-Michel, au bas de la nef. Un pieux et savant évêque, Étienne de
Rouen, célébra dans une pièce de vers la mémoire du saint abbé; il loua sa
prudence, sa charité, son zèle, son éloquence, son dévouement, son humilité,
sa science, son amour de la vie cachée. Bernard était digne de restaurer
Tombelaine et de mettre en honneur le pèlerinage de Notre-Dame-la-
Gisante. Dieu bénit son œuvre; car, malgré l’occupation étrangère et les
guerres de religion, le prieuré existait encore en 1666, quand le gouverneur
de la Chastière reçut l’ordre de le démolir avec le fort élevé par les Anglais.
La bonne et miséricordieuse Vierge, honorée sous le nom de Notre-
Dame-la-Gisante, tendant la main au faible et à l’affligé, surtout à la femme
en danger de mort, et le belliqueux Archange à l’armure de trempe divine,
terrassant les ennemis de Dieu et de l’Église, sont unis, confondus pour ainsi
dire dans le même culte, les mêmes prières, les mêmes chants, et représentés
ensemble sur les plombs et les enseignes du moyen âge; le symbole de la
douceur et le type de la bravoure sont proposés comme modèles à cette
société féodale, à ces chevaliers admirateurs de la force et protecteurs de la
faiblesse; les deux sanctuaires normands deviennent si célèbres que la seule
ville de Paris donne naissance à une confrérie nombreuse dont le but est de
venir en aide aux pèlerins de Saint-Michel, et consacre dans la sainte
Chapelle du Palais un autel en l’honneur de Notre-Dame-la-Gisante-de-
Tombelaine, afin de satisfaire la dévotion des femmes qui ne pouvaient pas
entreprendre un long et difficile voyage à travers un pays éprouvé par des
luttes sanglantes; enfin, l’Archange vainqueur du paganisme et l’auguste
Mère de Dieu sont l’objet d’un culte spécial dans ces contrées où le
druidisme rendait à la fois des hommages aux terribles divinités de la guerre
et à la Vierge innocente et pure qui devait enfanter; n’est-ce pas là tout un
épisode, disons tout un poème de notre histoire religieuse et nationale?

LE MONT-SAINT-MICHEL ET ROBERT DE TORIGNI.

la mort de Bernard le Vénérable, les moines bénédictins essayèrent de
revenir aux anciennes coutumes en procédant à une élection sans
recourir au suzerain; leurs suffrages se portèrent sur un religieux du
Mont, appelé Geoffroy, homme de grandes qualités et fort estimé de
tout le monde. Le nouvel élu, muni des bulles du pape Eugène III, alla
recevoir la bénédiction de l’archevêque de Rouen; mais le duc de Normandie
se crut lésé dans ses droits, et, sans égard pour les lettres du souverain
Pontife et la fidélité que le Mont-Saint-Michel lui avait gardée dans les
derniers troubles, il fit saisir le temporel du monastère et ne consentit à le
rendre qu’en échange d’une forte somme d’argent. Geoffroy mourut l’année
suivante, 1150, et reçut la sépulture au bas de la nef, à côté de son
prédécesseur. Pour ne pas s’exposer une seconde fois à d’injustes vexations,
les bénédictins demeurèrent un an sans procéder à une élection nouvelle;
mais à l’instigation de Richard de Subligny, évêque d’Avranches, ils
choisirent en 1151 le parent de ce dernier, Richard de la Mouche, religieux
profès du Mont-Saint-Michel. Aussitôt Henri II députa des satellites pour
piller l’abbaye et enlever les objets précieux dont Bernard avait enrichi le
trésor de l’église; il fit chasser Richard de ses États et confia l’administration
du mont Tombe à des laïcs et à des clercs dont la principale occupation fut
de dilapider les biens qui restaient encore aux religieux. Dans une pareille
extrémité, ceux-ci annulèrent l’élection précédente et portèrent leurs
suffrages sur le favori du prince, Robert Hardy, cellérier de l’abbaye de
Fécamp. Richard de la Mouche partit pour Rome, où il fit approuver son
élection, revint en Normandie et reçut la bénédiction des mains de son ami,
l’évêque d’Avranches, en présence d’un religieux qui l’avait suivi et lui était
resté fidèle; de son côté, Robert Hardy, voulant plaider sa cause auprès du
pape Eugène III, prit le chemin de Rome avec ses conseillers: «Et certes, dit
dom Huynes, ces troubles n’eussent si tost finit si Dieu par l’intercession de
son St Arcange n’y eust mis la main appelant de ce monde, sur la fin de l’an
mil cent cinquante deux ces susdits abbez et l’évesque d’Avranches.»
Comme Richard et Robert n’avaient jamais présidé au chœur, ni au chapitre,
ni au réfectoire, ils furent rayés de la liste des abbés.
Ces actes de violence dont les suites avaient été si fâcheuses pour le
Mont-Saint-Michel, inauguraient l’ère de persécution qui devait attirer tant
de calamités sur la Normandie et l’Angleterre, et rendre le règne de Henri II
si tristement célèbre; mais, selon la pensée de dom Huynes, l’Archange ne
permit pas que son sanctuaire fût plus longtemps profané par les satellites du
prince, et, au moment où le péril semblait plus difficile à conjurer, la
Providence suscita un homme qui devait porter à son apogée la gloire du
mont Tombe.
Le 27 mai 1154, les bénédictins procédèrent à une élection régulière dans
la salle du chapitre; Robert de Torigni, ou Robert du Mont, fut élu à
l’unanimité des voix. Il devait être le plus illustre des abbés qui ont gouverné
le Mont-Saint-Michel: Dieu «le destinoit, dit dom Louis de Camps, pour
reluire en ce Mont comme un soleil après tant de ténèbres, comme un astre
favorable après une si furieuse tempeste, pour estre le restaurateur de cette
abbaye, le miroir des prélats, et l’ornement de son ordre duquel les plus
doctes escrivains de son temps ont pris plaisir d’escrire les louanges et
particulièrement Estienne, évesque de Rennes, son grand amy et confrère de
profession monastique, et cela certes avec beaucoup de raison veu qu’ayant
en soy si parfaitement allié l’humilité religieuse avec la grandeur de la
naissance, il mit en admiration tous ceux de son siècle tant pour l’excellence
de son esprit et pour sa rare doctrine que pour sa prudence dans toutes ses
entreprises qui le firent estimer des papes, chérir des roys, révérer des reines
et généralement aymer de tous.»
Robert de Torigni, né de parents illustres appelés «Tédouin et Agnès,» se
consacra jeune encore à la vie religieuse et revêtit en 1128 l’habit de Saint-
Benoît dans l’abbaye du Bec, gouvernée à cette époque par le sage Boson,
digne héritier des vertus de Lanfranc et de saint Anselme. Il se forma de
bonne heure à l’étude des lettres divines et

Fig. 35.—Sceau de Robert de Torigni, conservé aux archives nationales.

humaines, et fit des progrès si rapides que, dès l’an 1139, un historien
anglais admira l’étendue de son savoir et le représenta comme un ardent
chercheur de livres. Il remplissait la charge de prieur claustral quand il fut
nommé à l’abbaye du Mont-Saint-Michel. Ce choix étant confirmé par le
métropolitain et hautement approuvé du prince lui-même, le nouvel élu dit
adieu à la chère solitude où il avait coulé les meilleures années de sa vie et se
rendit à Saint-Philbert de Montfort pour y recevoir la bénédiction des
évêques d’Avranches et de Séez, Herbert et Girard.