Page 71 of The Reborn

Then don’t, the last shred of rational mind I had left screamed at me. Get the fuck out of here the minute you can!

Getting out and away from the ultimate temptation was the answer. Of course it was. Not just this room, but this house. Her.

I had to make a plan, like yesterday, before I sank any further into something I couldn’t get out of.

I muttered a quick good night, then spun away and dashed to my room. After checking in with Kade by text, I called the security guys on the studio setup again to see if they had any updates on the parts coming in. I needed to make a solid exit plan ASAP.

Once she was safe in her home, vehicle, and place of business, there would be no reason for me to stay on her twenty-four seven. I could find a place close by to be readily available should she need me until we caught whoever was doing this, but...

I dropped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. “Jesus, Ashford. You’re running scared from one little woman? Get it together, man.”

But as I lay there for a little bit longer, the muffled sounds of Elizabeth’s sleepy cries followed by Olivia quietly soothing her were a direct shot—past my pain-hardened armor and into my soft underbelly, where I was most vulnerable.

I wasn’t running scared from one little woman, but two.

Eighteen

Olivia

We settled into a routine of sorts over the next two and a half weeks or so. A bit strained and fraught with sexual tension, sure, but a routine nonetheless. Nothing out of the ordinary happened, but Justin was my constant silent, broody shadow, always making sure Elizabeth and I were safe. He kept me in the loop on his investigation—or at least, I think he did. We ate dinner together, we watched TV together on occasion, and talked about nothing of consequence—though through all of that, I had come to learn so much about him, even if he didn’t mean to share. Things like he actually preferred seafood to steak, which surprised me. He wasn’t much for desserts, but he would never turn down a good cheesecake. I had already figured out he didn’t like breakfast much, and it turned out it was because of his time in the military. He puked up one too many breakfasts during those rough boot camp days, so he’d learned to keep it light. He preferred thrillers to action movies, had a soft spot for those who couldn’t defend themselves, and I was beginning to think the man lived on no sleep. He always went to bed after me and was up way before me.

When I asked him about it, he just shrugged it off. “SEAL habits die hard, I guess.”

But I could sense it was much more than that. Maybe it was my imagination or my desire to know him more, but I could just feel a dark sadness that seemed to haunt him, and I wondered if that was what was keeping him up at night. Of course I’d never ask him because I knew he’d shut me down.

But Elizabeth, she could always get him to smile.

And oh God, how she adored him. She took every opportunity to show off her pretty dresses and saved her biggest smiles for him, then glowed like the sun under any compliments he gave. It simultaneously melted and crushed my heart, knowing what she was unconsciously seeking but would never have in him—what she may never have in anyone—but what could I do? She seemed as helpless to his moody charm as I was.

But what I couldn’t put my finger on was the change I’d sensed since the night I shared my music with him. I wanted something special for my advanced girls recital piece, and I was sure I’d found it in the contemporary and classical mix of Beethoven and One Republic by The Piano Guys. Wrapped up in that feeling, I just wanted to share it with someone. For a split second, he’d seemed receptive, but that moment died a quick death, and he’d been distant, even cold ever since.

At least to me.

Well, it had been over a week now, and I’d had enough of the ice man treatment. As soon as I put Elizabeth down for the night, I gathered my courage and knocked on his bedroom door. It was time to confront the—

I lost all words... I think all sensation in my body too when the door swung open, and I was face to naked chest with said broody man. Scratch that. I was face to wet, naked chest.

Unable to help myself, my gaze dipped down to where he had one of my fairly dainty bath towels wrapped around his waist, showcasing that gloriously chiseled V that I had known would be there. I mean, of course I had...

He cleared his throat, and I snapped my gaze back up to his irritated face. Clearly, I’d startled him, and he thought something was wrong because I never knocked on his door like this. “Everything alright? Do you need something?”

Did I need something? No.

Want? Apparently, yes.

“I like your tattoo,” I said, blurting the first thing that came to my addled mind.

Of course, the man didn’t have basic tribal ink or military insignias. No. Instead he had a full black-and-white piece wrapping around his whole pec, bicep, and shoulder. It held so much beauty in one tattoo, I could hardly take it in—an abstract, ethereal landscape, a moon and stars, a compass, a rose, and bursting from what looked like heavenly rays in the middle was a dove with an olive branch in its mouth.

My heart shook because doves were such an emotional symbol in my family, with my cousin Claire, but I knew there was no way he’d know that, and I couldn’t help but wonder what made him get that tattooed on his body. I also wondered what was on the back, as it was obvious the design carried around, and I longed to ask him to turn so I could appreciate the full view.

“Thanks.” He didn’t move, but I could see him distinctly hardening behind the flimsy towel the longer I perused his half-nude body.

The air became warm and fraught with tension between us. The way his icy eyes cut like glass... I couldn’t take the distance anymore and something in me broke. Maybe I’d been alone too long, and I was just hungry for another person’s touch—a man’s touch—or maybe I was just going insane because of everything that had been going on, mixed with a case of terminal lust. Either way, I was done.

I tentatively lifted my hand, hovering for no longer than a breath, but I felt like I was suspended in a bubble, ready to pop and fly away. My pulse was rushing through my veins like a roaring wave when I finally touched his chest, oh so gently, right over his heart, next to the moon on his skin.

“Olivia,” he gritted, his voice a low growl.

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