Page 29 of Finding Haven (Haven #2)

Zack

Having her in my home and in my bed has brought about a sense of peace I haven’t felt in years.

After taking my time to clean every inch of her supple curves in the shower, she insisted on returning the favor.

The euphoric high from being inside of her was still hanging over my mind like a delicious haze, and I was so lost in the feeling of her hands roaming freely over my body that I forgot to keep my guard up.

Or maybe subconsciously, I didn’t want to hide anymore.

Either way, I didn’t miss the way her breath hitched when I turned around to give her access to my back.

My body had stiffened as her fingertips traced over the small scars littering my skin.

I held my breath and braced myself for questions that never came.

She simply continued to clean my body the same way I had hers, and in a way, it felt as though she was somehow cleansing my soul as well.

It’s an odd feeling to be both completely settled and an absolute fucking wreck.

I can’t remember the last time my body felt this relaxed.

There’s not a doubt in my mind that it’s all because of the woman whose body is curled up against mine, her head resting on my chest with her arm slung across my waist. Yet the comfort of her body is what has my mind spinning in every possible direction .

“How long have you lived here in Haven Beach?” she asks, her voice soft as her fingers trail over my bare skin.

“Just over five years,” I tell her. “My family’s from South Carolina.

” The full story is sitting on the tip of my tongue, begging to be told.

The words are right there. It would be such a relief to tell her, to finally let everything out and get the weight off my shoulders.

I don’t know where to even begin. Do I start from the beginning and tell her about my life as a police officer?

Do I tell her about how I spent years living a life I don’t think I ever even wanted, but one I chose nonetheless because it was the easier path?

“Why move so far away?” she asks softly, fighting back a yawn. Her fingertips follow the thin line of dark hair that runs from my navel down beneath the waistband of my boxer briefs before trailing over the dips of my abdominal muscles. As usual, Quinn isn’t deterred by my short, clipped responses.

When we met at the Elysian bar, the night I kicked her poor excuse of a date out of the hotel, I thought for sure she would be turned off by my inability to hold a conversation.

But not once did she shy away from attempting to carry on a conversation with me, despite how short and cold some of my responses had been.

The more time we spend together, and the more we get to know each other, the more I want to tear down the carefully constructed walls around my heart and lay myself bare at her feet.

She’s been slowly pulling them down, one stone at a time, but I’m damn near ready to demolish the entire thing and let her see parts of me that nobody else ever has.

“I…” My voice trails off as I toy with a strand of her blonde hair between my fingers.

“You don’t have to tell me,” she murmurs, her hand resting on my chest.

Fuck. How can a woman so much younger than me see me the way she does?

I drop the strand of hair and wrap my arm around her shoulder, holding her to me and pulling strength from the feeling of her body pressed tight against mine.

“I used to be a police officer. I was only with the Hartridge PD for a few years. My dad and grandfather were both officers, so… it just felt like what I was meant to do. I joined as soon as I could.”

Her hand moves to my chest, resting between the hard planes of my pecs. She doesn’t say anything, and her silence gives me the courage to continue.

“For a while, I got so lost in what I thought I should be doing, in the life I thought I was supposed to be living, that I never stopped to think about whether or not it was even the life I wanted.” My breath shudders with the last few words.

I spoke faster than I had intended, desperate to get the words out.

“What happened?” she asks gently, her thumb stroking over my skin.

Visions of Ryan trying to coax the stranger down flood my mind.

I squeeze my eyes shut, pinching the bridge of my nose as I fight back the moisture building behind my eyes.

You would think that after years of living with these haunting memories, I wouldn’t be so caught off guard when they come rushing to the surface.

Maybe I should have taken the time to speak to a professional, someone who could help me work through the trauma and find my way through the darkness without it becoming a debilitating factor in my life .

I feel Quinn's body shift beside me before her warm palm cups the side of my face. “Zack,” she murmurs.

Tears threaten to brim my eyes at her gentle tone. She’s soft and caring in a way I’ve never known. She’s not touching me or speaking to me like she thinks I’m weak. She’s touching me like she’s trying to lend me her strength, as if it could possibly flow from her body into mine.

“You don’t have to tell me, but whatever it is, I’m here for you, Z.

” Her thumb strokes across my cheekbone.

When I open my eyes to meet hers, I find only warmth and compassion shining back at me.

Nothing about the way she’s looking at me feels cruel or judgmental.

A single tear slips from the corner of my eye, and her gaze darts to it.

She gently swipes it away before she leans down to press her lips to my cheek over the tear’s path.

“Babe… Let me help you carry this,” she soothes.

“I couldn’t—” I inhale sharply, trying to force the words from my lips.

“I couldn’t save him,” I choke out, the words like bile rising in my throat.

My chest constricts with an all too familiar pressure.

It feels like a vice is wrapped around my body, squeezing tighter and tighter until the breath is stolen from my lungs, leaving me gasping for air.

I’m vaguely aware of Quinn grabbing my hand and pulling me up into a seated position against the headboard.

She swings a leg over my waist, straddling me as she settles her weight in my lap and wraps her arms around my shoulders.

One of her hands rests on the back of my head, her fingers combing through my thick dark hair as she presses my face into the crook of her shoulder. “I’ve got you, Zack,” she says softly.

She doesn’t tell me it’s okay or say everything will be all right. She simply lends me her strength and gives me a safe place to break.

And break, I do .

The tension building behind my eyes finally gives way as a sob breaks free, leaving me trembling as my arms wrap around her and pull her against me. Her arms tighten, and the added pressure brings me a sense of comfort as the shadows take hold.