Page 35 of Braving the Storm

Christ, she’s so beautiful, and I don’t know how the fuck I’m going to get through this next part.

“You have to promise me something,” I say.

“Not to rage chop a mountain of wood?” Her eyes stay closed, but her lips tug into a wry smile.

I swallow down the avalanche of inappropriate sensations, vying to occupy my chest. Batting back all thoughts of how this girl is funny, and sweet, and sinfully gorgeous. As much as I’m supposed to, I can’t deny the reality to myself anymore, even though I can’t andshouldn’tacknowledge the truth.

She’s every inch my dream fucking girl.

“What I’m about to suggest. You have to promise you’ll be reasonable.”

“You’re the stubborn bull around here. I’m the most reasonable person you’ll ever meet.”

“I’m serious, Briar.”

That makes her lashes flutter. Dark eyes tilting toward me at the heaviness in my tone.

“You aren’t allowed to fight me on this.”

“Okay…” She wets her lips once more and gives me a highly suspicious glance.

“I can’t leave you on your own tonight.” Swallowing that rock determined to occupy my throat, I let my hand drop away. “Not while we need to be sure you’re in the clear after taking such a heavy knock to the head.”

Briar’s chest rises and falls a little faster.

My pulse races loudly in my ears.

“You’re saying…”

“I’m saying that you need someone to be there for you—in case something happens during the night, you know—and both of us ain’t gonna fit on that couch.”

Her throat bobs. “Sure.”

The air damn near vibrates with the words I haven’t yet said, but that we both know are coming.

“It’s fine.” She adds quickly. Removing the need for me to actually say it out loud and risk confessing to every depraved second I’ve imagined sayingfuck itand following her in there at night.

Briar shifts her weight and slides off the counter. “We’re both adults. We can share a bed. Besides, you’ll sleep better than torturing yourself on that couch.”

And that’s precisely the problem.

As I step back and watch her walk away, I know it.

As I build up the fire for the night, I know it.

As I hear her rustling around in the bedroom, I know it.

And when I make my way down the half a dozen, short, familiar paces in the dark, drawn like a moth to the soft spill of light coming through the open bedroom doorway, my pulse jackhammers in my throat.

While that couch might have been physical torture to endure, as I ease myself into the other side of the bed, with every dip of the mattress beneath my bulk, I’m certain of one thing.

This… this is going to be a brutal punishment of an entirely different kind.

Chapter 12

It’s extra cozy this morning.

The weight of my blanket feels like utter perfection, as if I’m safely cocooned. Warmth seeps through every part of me, radiating down to my toes.