Page 58

THIRTY-THREE
Kaitlyn
As soon as Abbey is settled in the front seat of Damien’s truck, I start to climb out of Went’s lap.
Or at least, I try to. Pushing against the arm he has secured around my waist, I glare up at him when it doesn’t move so much as an inch.
“You don’t have to ride back here,” I tell him, just as his brother start’s the engine. “I’m fine on my own. You don’t have to babysit me.”
One of Went’s straight, dark brows arches over his devil black gaze. “You think I put a pretty girl in my lap because I want to babysit her?”
In the cab of the truck, Damien shifts into drive. “Seriously, Went—” Trying again, I start to squirm, pushing against the arm he’s using to anchor me to his lap. “I don’t think this is a good idea. What if—”
“What if your fiancé is waiting for you when you get home?” He finishes for me, his tone making it obvious that’s exactly what he’s hoping for. Bottomless black gaze still hooked into mine, the corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk. “And I suggest you keep that perfect little ass of yours still, Sunshine, or this seating arrangement is gonna get very awkward for you.”
I stop pushing at his arm and go still in his lap while I stare up at him. “This is my mess, Went—I don’t want you involved.”
“Little late for that.” Giving me another smirk, he tightens his grip on me as Damien starts to drive.
“I never meant for…” Shaking my head, I feel my forehead crumple. “It’s not worth it. I’m not—”
“Yes, you are.” He says it quietly, his tone firm. Daring me to argue with him. “My only regrets about last night are that I didn’t get there sooner, and I didn’t hit him harder.”
I don’t know what to say to that. No one has ever put me first before. Made my safety a priority. My feelings have never been important. Have never been considered. “Can you at least put me down?” When he doesn’t respond, I try again. “Please. If Brock is there and he sees me sitting in your lap, all hell is going to break loose.”
“Brock is out of commission for a while—trust me on that,” he tells me. “Even if he is there, waiting for you, he’s not in any condition to cause much trouble.”
Forehead still creased in a frown, I shake my head. “Then why are you here?”
“Maybe I’m not ready to let you go, just yet.” Lifting the hand he has wrapped around my hip, Went brushes my hair away from my face, the pad of his thumb skimming across my cheekbone. “But if you really want me to put you down, Sunshine, I will.”
I want Went to do a lot of things to me but put me down isn’t one of them—not really. When I don’t repeat my request and instead, settle into his arms, Went’s shoulders relax. “I’m sorry too,” he tells me, arms tightening around my shoulders and waist while we climb down a series of switchbacks, carved into the mountain. “About the way I acted the last time we saw each other. I was—”
“Angry.” I finish for him, ready to dismiss his apology with a don’t worry about it, but he shakes his head.
“Jealous.” He shakes his head, dark gaze slipping away from mine to land on my mouth. “When Damien told me you have a fiancé, I got jealous.” His lips curves into a flat, humorless smile before his eyes lift again to find mine. “It’s not something I’m used to feeling and I reacted poorly.”
“It’s okay.” I shrug my shoulder against his chest. “I think if I found out you had a fiancé, I’d be pretty pissed off too.”
The generous curve of his mouth shifts into another smirk, this one making it nearly impossible to keep myself from squirming in his lap. “I don’t have any secret fiancés, Sunshine—scout’s honor.”
But you have secrets.
I put the thought away because I don’t want to know. Because it doesn’t matter. Whatever he’s hiding from me can stay hidden. I know everything I need to know about him.
“I don’t know much about you, but I know you’ve never been a boy scout,” I remind him while the road beneath us levels out and the BARR TT looms in the distance.
“You’re right.” The fingertips skimming along my jawline slip around the back of my neck while the rough pad of his thumb strokes the line of my throat, gently pressing against the underside of my chin. “But a boy scout isn’t going to be much help when it comes to working on that list of yours.”
“Went…” It comes out soft, the sound of voice worn thin by a confusing jumble of anticipation and trepidation. Trepidation because I know I can’t see him again and anticipation because seeing him, being with him, is the only thing I want to do. “I—”
“Come back.” The truck comes to a stop but he doesn’t look up. Doesn’t look away from me. Gaze still pinned to mine, Went strokes the line of my throat while in front of us, Damien opens his truck door and so does Abbey, the slam of them rocking the truck bed around us. “Even if it’s just to teach Two-tone how to count or to follow him around with a bucket.” He must see it on my face—that I’m seconds way from telling him no. That I can’t. That the only thing I want less than to marry Brock Morris is to cause him any more trouble than I already have. Before I can say it out loud, Went lifts something from the bed of the truck and pushes it into my hands. “Just in case this is it,” he says quietly.
Looking down, I see one of my notebooks. The red one. The one we used to pass notes to each other.
That’s the last thing he says to me before he stands to hand me off to his brother before vaulting himself out of the truck bed to climb into its cab.
Setting me on my feet, Damien gives my shoulder a squeeze. “Go on up to the house and rest—I’ll take care of your chores for the next day or two.” When I open my mouth to protest, he shakes his head. “This isn’t a negotiation, Kaity,” he tells me in an uncharacteristically firm tone. “You’re in no shape to do anything today—besides, I think it’s best if you avoid your mother and put off the inevitable for as long as possible, don’t you?”