Page 102

“I got you,” I murmur again, this time into her temple, letting my lips linger against her skin. Her scent is all rain and salt and something so inherently her that it punches through my ribs and grabs hold of my soul. The weight of her against me is all-consuming. Everything else fades into static behind the sound of her breathing near my ear.

Her legs tighten around my waist as I carry her further inside. She’s still trembling. Still clutching me like if she lets go, I might disappear, and that alone undoes me.

I cross the foyer to the living room and sink onto the ottoman with her in my lap, her face buried in my neck, her fingers gripping the soaked collar of my jacket. I let my hand drift up and down her back, the rhythm slow. Her tears seep into my skin, and I let them. I let them soak through the fabric, let them mark me, because if I could, I’d carry every one of them for her.

She finally pulls back, just enough to look at me. Her eyes are red-rimmed and glassy, lashes spiked with tears and rain. Her lip trembles before she catches it with her teeth.

“I didn’t know what to do,” she whispers. “He showed up and started trying to kick the door. I’ve seen him angry, but never like that. I don’t...”

I cradle her jaw, my thumb brushing across her cheek, catching the tears. “It’s over. He’s gone.”

A small sound leaves her, half sob, half laugh. “I was actually so scared.”

“I’m sorry,” I say softly, pressing my forehead to hers. “He’ll never get that close to you again. I swear to God, Evie.”

Her fingers curl into my hair, tugging just enough to make me meet her eyes again. There’s something in her expression so raw and aching I struggle to focus when she speaks.

“Thank you.”

Without a shred of consideration, I skim my lips to hers. “I don’t need it. I won’t ever let anything hurt you.”

A soft creak has our heads lifting to find Lachlan in the doorway leading into the foyer. Water drips off him, forming a puddle across the hardwood. It drips off the ends of his dark locks and traces paths down his set features. His gaze is rooted on Everly with a mix of guilt and concern.

“Are you okay?” he asks her softly.

Without an official answer, Everly slides off my lap and runs the five feet straight into his arms where she’s scooped upagainst his chest. Her legs tangle around his hips and he crushes her to him.

“Fuck, sweetheart, I’m sorry,” he breathes into the side of her neck. “I’m so sorry. I swear he will never come near you again.”

I don’t hear her response, my attention distracted by the smooth, round curves of her ass bared where her T-shirt has lifted. Lachlan has one hand clamped over her cheek for support, but he doesn’t seem to realize it, nor do I feel the punch of arousal I would have felt any other time when my mind is firmly shackled to how pale she looks. How big and dilated her eyes are. She’s doing a pretty good job of hiding it, but I know she’s scared and I hate it.

“I’m sorry.” She lifts her face off his shoulder to peer into his face.

With one arm still hooked around her middle, he raises his free hand to smooth back her hair. “Why, sweetheart? You have no reason to apologize.”

She takes a breath. “For you to have to see that.”

Lachlan’s lips thin. “I’m the one who should be sorry. Bron is my kid. He’s my responsibility.”

“He’s a twenty-four-year-old grown ass man. At his age, you were running your dad’s construction company and I was getting ready to get deployed for my second tour,” I stress through a tense jaw.

“It’s no one’s fault,” Everly cuts in. “Bron is his own person. He’ll do what he wants. I just feel like this is my fault.”

She ignores our joint disagreement and nudges Lachlan to get put down.

It’s only at that moment that I realize she’s clad in nothing but an oversized t-shirt with a fluffy, orange cat wrestling with a ball of yarn. It’s soaked and clinging to every perfect curve like a second skin. Her nipples are sharp, pink points perched high on her chest, unshielded and stiff.

I drag my eyes away to study her face.

“I couldn’t sleep after you left. I started overthinking everything and I worked myself up thinking I owed him a chance to explain himself.” She sucks in a slow breath. “I texted him. Said we should talk. I didn’t think he’d try to break down the door.”

Piece of shit.

I force a hand back through my hair and turn my gaze away. Too pissed not to show it if she looked at me.

“The sheriff said he was on the phone when Bron was acting like an idiot. What was he saying?” I ask, knowing it’s a bad idea; I’m already seconds away from skinning him.

But rather than respond, she glances from me to Lachlan.