Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 155900 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155900 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
I never looked away from her as I did, our gazes tangled and our hearts locked.
When I covered her, I reached up and framed her precious face in both my hands. Gripping on tight. “I know, baby, I know. I won’t discount the pain and worry that you’re feeling. And I might not have really known your sister, but I have a feeling that she would have wanted you to be happy. If that’s what I make you.”
I wanted to.
I wanted to make this woman happy.
A flicker of guilt buzzed through my being. I also knew that my life could bring suffering. That it was dangerous and wrought with peril.
But I couldn’t imagine changing it. Couldn’t imagine stopping what I did.
Not when I knew it made the world a better place for them.
“I’m afraid that you might,” Emery whispered.
I reached up and caught a tear that slipped from her eye.
“I don’t think you need to be afraid of that. Not when I’m pretty sure it was what I was made to do.”
“We hardly know each other…and…I have to leave.”
Pain tore through her when she said it.
“Do you?” It was a soft grunt.
Uncertainty passed through her delicate features, and I pushed up to standing, hoisting her into my arms.
With one arm looped around her waist, I dragged down the covers with the other hand and settled her in the middle, then I crawled in beside her.
That gaze turned cautious and excited. “What are you doing?”
“Holding you.”
I tucked her close to me. Her body alight while mine was afire.
I blew out a contented sigh at the feel of her against me.
“I’m not sure this is a good idea.” She breathed it at the base of my throat.
I ran my hand down her back. “I think it’s a great idea. After holding you last night, I think it’s exactly the way I want to spend every night of my life.”
Silence hovered between us. Her qualms fluttering in the space.
“You know I’m going back to Wisconsin in three weeks.”
Every molecule in my body revolted at the thought.
Of her leaving. Of her walking out of my life.
How had I known her for such a short amount of time and already it felt like she had become intrinsic to who I was?
But some people came into our lives and changed everything.
I hesitated, before I asked, “Is that what you want to do?”
I could feel her answer in her hesitation, though she murmured, “That store was my sister’s dream.”
I kept my voice soft. Cautious. “Her dream. But was it yours?”
A few seconds passed before she spoke again. Her words hushed and filled with the loss. “It was until—”
She clipped off like she’d almost revealed something she was supposed to keep secreted. Whatever it was too fucking painful for her to divulge.
I eased back so I could see her face. That stunning face that pierced through me like an arrow every time I looked at her.
This woman with a hook in me.
“What happened?” Didn’t mean for it to come out a demand, but there was no keeping the rage from my tone. The fury that ignited at the thought of someone doing her harm.
The thirst for wrath thumped in the dark recesses of my psyche. In that place that sought vengeance and found no guilt in the drawing of blood.
No shame in putting those in the ground who didn’t deserve to stand.
Emery flinched, her whole body going rigid in my arms.
I smoothed my palm down the back of her head and back, again and again, trying to assuage the fear that she held. My Little Warrior always going on lockdown the second her past was mentioned.
But I had a hunch we had to get to it in order for her to fully put her trust in me.
“You started to tell me last night…” I murmured it quietly, close to her ear.
Her heartbeat accelerated a fraction.
“I don’t talk about it.”
She overwhelmed my senses. Her spirit and her heat and her sweet morning glory scent.
It was standing at the brink of a sunrise, waiting for the first rays to shine.
Wading at the edge of surrender for the both of us to topple over the side.
I’d catch her.
I’d be sure of it.
“But the scars still gape. I can feel them,” I told her.
“And somehow you’re the first person who’s ever reached beyond them.”
“Then maybe that means you can trust me with your pain.”
“I don’t think I’m ready yet. I’m not sure that I’ll ever be.” She wavered for the longest time, the two of us caught in the stillness, caught in each other, before she rushed on a breath, “I told you my sister fell off her roof…but…but I don’t know if I believe that.”
Disquiet tightened my insides, and I edged back so I could see her face better. “What do you mean?”