Page 42 of Covetous

“But what kind of man talks to his woman like that? He was out of line, and someone needed to put him in his place.”

“But it can’t be you.”

“I hear what you’re saying, but?—”

With a firm shake of my head, I cut in. “But nothing. It can’t be you.”

His head bows in defeat. He knows I’m right. “Leave him.”

“What?”

He narrows the gap between us, his hands coming to rest on my shoulders, his eyes searching mine with a silent plea. “Leave him.”

“No.” A tightness grips my heart. I press my lips together, struggling to contain the surge of emotions brimming beneath the surface. “I’m not leaving him. We’re getting married.”

A wince crosses his expression, but it disappears so quickly that I must’ve imagined it.

“And if he hurts you? What am I supposed to do?”

“You’re supposed to stay out of it.” The tears I’ve been fighting back slide down my cheeks. Damn it. What the fuck? “This is my life. My relationship.” I swipe at my wet cheeks.

At the sight of my stupid tears, Victor’s face falls. “Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to?—”

“It’s fine. I don’t even know why I’m crying. I’m just—” I fan my face, searching for the right word. “Overwhelmed.” I’m crying because my feelings for him are all tangled up with my feelings for Ian, and I’m drowning in guilt because of it.

Victor does the unexpected. “Come here.” He enfolds me in his arms, cradling my head, while I lean into the comfort of his chest. My tears fall faster now, no doubt leaving a wet spot on his shirt.

He holds me like that for a long time—maybe even too long—before we back up from each other. My arms wrap around myself, trying to make up for the loss of his touch. His hand reaches out reluctantly, and his thumb swipes against the wetness on my cheek. “You have a ton of people who care about you, who love you, and who will be there for you if you should ever need them. But if there ever comes a time that you come to me instead, for whatever reason—a place to crash, someone to talk to…or someone to beat Ian’s ass…I’m your guy.”

Laughter bubbles up in me unexpectedly, breaking the solemn moment as I wipe at my tears.

His lips ease into a smile, slow and reassuring. “I mean it, Sky.” I don’t think he’s ever called me Sky before—only Skylar. It hints at a familiarity that we aren’t supposed to have.

“I don’t doubt that you mean it.” The gravity of his unwavering support grounds me somehow, even though I know it shouldn’t.

“And I’ll try not to beat his ass this weekend if he disrespects you.”

My lip twitches. “Now you’re stressing me the hell out.” I let out an audible exhale and head toward the house.

“What did I say?” he asks innocently, grabbing my bags and trailing behind me.

Chapter Fourteen

As the sun begins to set over Cape Cod, our car service pulls to a stop at our destination. The Davenports’ beach house stands tall in front of us, its white walls and navy-blue shutters a stark contrast against the vibrant green lawn. After a long day of traveling, my exhaustion slowly melts away as we file out of the SUV.

“Welcome to our home for the next few days,” I say with a smile, gesturing toward the picturesque house.

“This is nice,” Esme exclaims, a smile spreading across her face with childlike glee as she rushes toward the house while the rest of us gather our bags from the trunk.

“I think you’re forgetting something.” I chuckle, lugging my duffle over my shoulder.

“Leave the rest of your bags.” Victor pulls mine from my shoulder. “I’ll get them.”

“Thank you.” Warmth rushes through me at his kind gesture.

“No problem.” A soft smile tugs at his lips.

“The weather is perfect here.” Liv hooks her arm through mine and leads me away from the car.

---