Page 21 of His White Moonlight (Dominant CEO Shifter Romance #1)

Once Bennett left, I dropped my act of indifference and made all the sad faces as I checked my scrapes. They weren’t that bad, but they throbbed with every heartbeat. I knew rinsing the dirt off wouldn’t be fun.

Every move hurt something, and I silently cursed Storm. But honestly, it wasn’t all her fault. I hadn’t been paying attention. If I had, I might have heard her. Maybe not. It was hard to say because I hadn’t been focused. I’d thought I would be safe off the pack land.

As I’d expected, the water burned. So did the soap. I gritted my teeth and muttered curses under my breath as I cleaned one scrape after another. Once I was sure I’d gotten them all, I turned off the water and carefully towel-dried.

Two steps from the door, I heard Bennett say, “I’m waiting in your room.”

“Well, don’t. I need to get dressed.”

“Open the door, Wrenly. I heard you swearing.”

“You’re going to hear me swear again if you don’t leave.”

My bathroom door opened, and I glared at Bennett as he came in. I would have tried closing the door in his face, but I knew not to start a battle I couldn’t win.

“Do you mind? I’m in a towel. You could at least let me get dressed.”

He picked me up. Again. Rather than fight it, I put my hands in my lap as he started walking.

“Which ones hurt the most?” he asked.

“My palms. I put them out to catch myself as I fell. I’m lucky I didn’t break a wrist. I should have ducked and rolled; then I could have come up on my feet and broken my wrist hitting her in the face.”

“No hitting shifters. Storm will be handled.”

I snorted. “Like she was handled the last time I was home? Or the time before that? Talking does no good when neither party is listening.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s just acknowledging the same thing you did from the beginning.”

“Which is what?” he asked, entering his room.

“That I don’t belong here.”

“You don’t belong anywhere else but here, Wrenly.”

I wasn’t sure if he was saying that because I didn’t have any blood relatives left or if he was speaking for Mom and Dad and the rest of the family. My guess was the former, which made him a dick.

He set me on the edge of his bed and took a knee in front of me as he looked at the scrapes on my legs. It was a tempting pose.

“Do you know how much I really want to push you over right now?”

“I can smell your frustration and anger. Is it all for me?”

“Most of it. Some of it is for the rest of the family, then Storm and this place.”

He dabbed salve on a scrape and then gently blew on it.

This wasn’t the first time he’d doctored me. I had a fuzzy memory of him helping me with another knee scrape when I’d been younger. After that, the tattling had started.

“Does this mean I lost my freedom to run?” I asked as he dabbed salve on the other knee.

“If I ask you to promise only to run with me, would you see it as limiting your freedom or an attempt to keep this from happening again?” He bent his head and started blowing on my knee as the salve melted into the wound.

“Had you not asked, probably the first thing. Are you saying you’d run with me to keep me safe and not to restrict me?”

“All I’ve ever wanted to do is keep you safe.”

I stared down at his dark head of hair and let my doubt show on my face. He looked up then, his pupils blown wide as he took in my expression.

“It’s the truth,” he said.

“Well, there are better ways to keep me safe than by making me feel like a prisoner.”

He took my hand and applied the salve to it as well.

“Let’s make a deal,” he said.

My skin tingled when he blew on my palm.

“What kind of deal?” I asked to distract myself from the sensation.

“When you feel like you’re being restricted, tell me. Let me try to find a solution that won’t break any rules, will keep you safe, and will give you a way to feel free.”

My chest ached, and my eyes started to water. He noticed and blew on my palm a second time.

“And what do you want in return for helping me?” I asked after swallowing hard.

“No more running away from me.”

Technically, I’d never run away from him; I just avoided him as much as possible.

“Okay. You have a deal.”

He finished with my second hand and brushed my wet hair back from my face. His pupils were still fully dilated.

“So if running away isn’t allowed, what do we do when we’re annoyed with each other?” I asked. “Fight it out?”

His lips twitched like he found that the funniest thing ever, and he started placing the large bandages he’d brought.

“I’d never win,” he said.

I snorted. “Only because Mom and Dad would have your hide when I break my hand hitting you.”

“You’ll have to find a way to fight without hitting, then,” he said. “To keep things fair.”

Since I was creative when angry, I nodded in agreement.

“Do you need help dressing?” he asked after he placed the last bandage.

“If I did, I wouldn’t ask you, Bennett,” I said, waiting for him to move so I could stand. “That’d be more of a Mom thing.”

He nodded after a moment and rose with a fluid grace I envied.

“Give me twenty minutes, and I’ll be ready to head into the office,” I said.

“You want to go?”

I shrugged. “At least there, I can walk to the park with less chance of being purposely tripped. With my face and neck bruises and whatever stern lecture Mom gave everyone at the office yesterday, I’m sure the women there will leave me alone for a while at least.”

“When you say things like that, it makes me want to put you in a bubble.”

“Putting me in one won’t keep me safe. It’ll just stop me from learning the skills I need to survive once it pops. Because bubbles always pop, Bennett.”

I walked out of his room, pinning the towel to my torso with my forearm to hide a minor scrape he’d overlooked. Once I was in my room, I dropped the towel and added a few more adhesive bandages.

Dressing wasn’t fun. I chose lightweight, loose clothes that wouldn’t aggravate anything. My hair was a mess. Holding the hairdryer hurt. Attempting to comb out my tangles was extra hard, and…it hurt. Trying to tie my hair back hurt.

Giving up, I left my bedroom with my hair down and partially wet.

Bennett was waiting for me in the hallway. He wore his usual suit and tie for the office, but he looked a little less uptight this time. I looked at his hair and checked his tie, but both looked as precise as they always did.

While I was studying him, trying to find the difference, he took in my wet, mostly uncombed hair and the extra bandage on the underside of my forearm.

“What kind of deal would we need to make for you to come to me when you have a problem? From the minor stuff like you have a hangnail to the major stuff like someone hurting you?”

“I wouldn’t need a deal for that. I’d need to trust you.”

He nodded, grabbed the tips of my fingers, and led me back into my bathroom.

I didn’t protest when he picked up the hairdryer. It felt really nice to have someone run their fingers through my hair without trying to pull it from the roots. I closed my eyes and let myself enjoy the moment.

The hairdryer shut off, and he ran the brush through the strands, carefully gathering it all back to tie at the base of my skull.

I opened my eyes and caught him staring at my neck.

“Is it another bruise, or did I miss some dirt?” I asked as I started to reach back and wipe the spot.

He caught my hand. “No. You just…” He leaned in as he breathed deeply.

Did he smell Storm? She hadn’t touched me other than to trip me.

His nose brushed my skin, and a jolt of awareness struck straight through me, sending me into a confused panic.

I whirled away from him, but I didn’t get far. He caught me around my waist and had my ass on the counter before I registered he’d touched me.

With his hands gripping the counter on each side of me, caging me in, he crowded close.

“I thought we agreed, no running. Why did you panic? Do you think I’m going to hurt you, Wrenly?”

My heart was beating fast in my chest as I stared at him with wide eyes.

“Breathe, Wrenly. You’re not in any danger. You’re safe.”

Safety was a relative term in this situation.

“You’re too close,” I managed to say.

“You said you didn’t like it when you can’t move your arms, and when something was too close to your face. I wasn’t holding you at all.”

I glanced away as my mind raced for a truthful reason for my panic that wasn’t the truth: I’d felt something when I’d thought Bennett would kiss me again.

No, not again. He hadn’t kissed me ever.

That time at the museum, he’d just checked what I’d been drinking.

And what he’d done in his bedroom had been revenge. Maybe a test. I still wasn’t sure.

“Don’t you believe in personal space?” I asked.

“Not really.”

“I’ll be sure to tell the girls in the office that.”

He made an annoyed sound and plucked me off the counter.

“Is your hair all right?” he asked.

I nodded and let him lead me out of the bathroom.

When we reached the entry, he had my runners waiting. He helped me into them and tied them for me.

“You didn’t eat much for breakfast,” he commented as we walked through the kitchen. “Do you want to stop for something along the way?”

“No. It’s almost lunch anyway.”

As soon as we walked out into the garage, I noticed the grey sedan. It wasn’t anything fancy, so it definitely didn’t look like it belonged. I glanced from it to Bennett. He was watching me closely.

“Whose car is that?”

“Yours. Do you like it?”

I stared at it again, struggling with a storm of emotions, mostly hope.

“Are you serious?”

“I am. Milo dropped it off last night. I thought you might want to drive it to work, but with your hands?—“

“I can drive!”

His lips twitched. “Does that mean you like it?”

“Yes. I love it.” I loved it so much I couldn’t stop staring at it.

In all my planning, I never dreamed Mom and Dad would get me a car. They’d been so adamant that I didn’t need one. That there was always someone home to drive me anywhere I needed to go.

I looked at Bennett.

“Mom and Dad didn’t get this for me, did they?”

“No. I bought it.”