Page 60 of Surrender

Bree gives a crooked smile that Whitney can’t see with her head buried in my chest. “You need to take care of yourself first. That means sleeping this off so you can be ready for what they might need from you tomorrow.”

“You’ll kiss them goodnight for me?” she sniffles.

“Of course.”

Whitney turns her face out of my chest, keeping her cheek pressed against me. “Okay. Thank you.”

“I’ll call you in the morning.” With a final brush of her fingers down Whitney’s shoulder, Bree joins the others at the end of the hall.

“Thank you,” I mouth quietly to Lee.

His gaze flicks down to Whitney tucked tightly in my arms, and a secret smile spreads across his face. “You’re welcome.”

I don’t answer because right when I get the urge to curl my fingers and punch the smug smile from his face, Whitney twists her fingers into the fabric at my waist, and her torso shudders against me.

I drop my lips to the shell of her ear. “Can I take you home?”

“Just a sec.” The raw anguish in her voice rips me to shreds.

A million questions swarm like angry bees while I hold her, but I dismiss them until later.

Once she’s home and tucked into my bed, sleeping off the shock and the potential hangover, I can analyze what this might mean.

One thing is for certain, I don’t plan to let that asshole get that close to her ever again. That means some adjustments are in order.

Minutes pass while we stand pressed tightly together, and I just hold her until her shakes turn into shivers and her sobs quiet to sniffles. When she lifts her head to gaze at me with those watery, red-rimmed eyes, my stoic mask nearly crumbles.

“I’m ready to go now.”

I brush the hair back from her forehead. Clasping her chin between my index finger and thumb, I press an unhurried kiss to her lips. Her wet lashes flutter closed to the tune of her breathy sigh.

“Let’s go home,” I whisper, brushing against her lips with each word.

I maneuver her around, my palm lingering on her lower back. The heat of her seeps through her dressy shirt. Touching her soothes that protective instinct in me that I’m fighting to keep in check. The entire way to the door, I study the faces we pass. I can’t promise I’ll be so restrained should we happen upon her ex again.

He’s been warned. And I’m not generous with second chances.

She stumbles a second time in the short trek to the door, so I tuck her into my side so tightly that I half carry her. Now that her crying has subsided, anger swiftly moves in to take its place.

“I can’t fucking believe him. Can you believe him?”

My mood flickers between amused and pissed like a light bulb during a thunderstorm.

“I need to call Alice.” She stops on the sidewalk and starts digging in her purse.

“Who’s Alice?”

“His sister.”

“I don’t think you should be calling anybody right now.”

Her head snaps up so sharply that she nearly catches me in the chin. The glare she pins me with sends blood rushing south to my cock. God, she’s hot when she’s pissed. I don’t know whether I should drag her to the car and get her home or press her up against the wall and kiss that angry look off her face.

The gentleman in me wins out as if there was ever a question. I’m not one to ever take advantage of a woman under the influence, no matter that I had her wrapped around me not even a week ago.

“She needs to know he’s alive.”

“She can know in the morning.” I open the passenger door and help her inside. She thrusts her ass in my face as she crawls up and settles herself on the seat. I reach across her stomach to buckle her in.

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