Page 102 of Ly to Me

“Sure did. Cock felt too formal.”

Lyra giggled. “What are you hiding, Mr. Roland?” I led her to the front door, then I dropped her hand to hold it open for her.

“Not much is hidden, sweetheart. You just aren’t looking in the right places.”

35

Lyra

The Sanctuary

The blood smeared over Jamie’s face, dripping from his nose and covering his shirt, hadn’t gone unnoticed.

The words that caused Carver to feel the need to do that to him hadn’t, either.

As much of a monster Carver appeared to be sometimes, I knew who he truly was. He was the ‘all-in’ kind of person, and didn’t believe in doing anything half-assed. He was the kind of person who’d defend anyone he cared about with everything he had. Having Carver Roland in your corner was about as good as you could get it.

It felt like years had gone by since I’d come back to town, saw the man he had become, and hoped he’d keep to himself. But I was wrong. As he opened the truck door for me and helped me up into the seat, a wave of guilt hurdled through me. When the goin’ got tough, I got goin’, and he…didn’t. And I’d never been more thankful for that attribute that made him unable to stop loving me for all those years. Because I hadn’t, either. We both just had real stupid, funny ways of showing it.

Carver got into the seat and fumbled for his phone, then pressed it to his ear, eyes glued to the Oak Heart Farms shirt I’d picked out. I didn’t know where we were going, so I started pulling the shirt down, stretching it to cover my thighs. He waved a hand, gesturing for me to stop as a male's voice cut through the phone.

“Leo. Back in today?” Carver paused as the guy spoke, then he said, “Yeah, got it. Clear Warehouse One for the next hour.” He started the truck, keeping the phone pressed to his shoulder, but spared me a glance that was more heated than the first, sweeping from the hem of my shirt down to my thighs. I snapped them shut, and he chuckled. “Make that the rest of the day,” he corrected, nodding his head against his shoulder as Leo finished talking. “Sounds great. Thanks.”

He pulled the phone from his ear and set it down in the space between us as he slowly steered the truck toward a path cut into the woods. The mossy oaks and tall pines blended together as we drove through. When we came up to a wooden bridge, he slowed and rolled the windows down. As the sounds of a steady streamfilled the silence, my cheeks heated. That had to be the same stream, right?

“Wouldn’t mind chasin’ you again,” Carver murmured, his fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel as he stared straight ahead, maneuvering the truck over the wooden planks slowly.

“In your dreams,” I snapped back, but couldn’t fight the smile his words put on my face, just like I couldn’t hide the way my thighs clenched together more at the thought.

“It definitely has been.” His hand fell to my thigh, thumb stroking over my skin, causing goosebumps to erupt.

“Why’re you taking me to the facility?”

“I promised you a tour, and I hate to think I’m keepin’ you cooped up in the house all the time.” His voice lowered as he said, “I wasn’t trying to keep you with me by tying you up, I just wanted you to listen.”

“I know.” I stared out the window, watching the trees sway above us.

His fingers made tapping sounds on the steering wheel as he added, “I also told you I’d be showing you what I do with the bar funds.”

“Does the facility not make enough to stay afloat? You didn’t have to show me that to prove it. I would’ve believed you just fine.”

He squeezed my thigh. “The facility makes more than enough to float itself, and nearly one-hundred employees, sweetheart.”

I swallowed. “Alright. So, what’s there?”

“Patience,wife.”

I sighed and propped my elbow on the door, resting my head in my hand. “How much lon—hey, why’re we stopping?”

He said nothing as he put the truck in park and hopped out, then ran around the front to open my door. His hand jutted out, begging me to take it. “C’mon. I wanna show you somethin’ else, first.”

Carver pulled a cap from his back pocket and fit it backward on his head while his other hand swayed back and forth, waiting for me to take it.

When I finally did, his hand closed around mine softly, like it’d scare me away if he showed any roughness, though my body seemed to love how rough he’d become.

Wanted more of it, actually.

He helped me down from the truck, then adjusted our fingers so they were twined, warming my chest instantaneously. I could see bits and pieces of large, grey buildings between the trees, but where we were heading wasn’t toward them.