Page 46 of Don't Let Go

Eyebrows raised, Remy gave a sharp, negative head shake. “None of us would ever harm you.”

The absolute conviction in that statement told me more about his trust in the other two men than anything else. In his opinion, they would never hurt me. They would protect me. They would keep me safe. Not him. Me.

They were so very dangerous for me.

Particularly when I wanted to lean into the devotion. I studied the way he stroked my palm.

“Too much?” The question tugged my attention upward once more.

“No. Yes. I don’t know.” Each answer came out definitive until the last. Amusement crinkled the lines at the corners of Remy’s eyes.

“As long as you’re sure.”

I chuckled. “I’m not sure of much. I’m struggling between what Iwantto believe and what Icanbelieve. Then there’s all of you.”

“What about all of us?” The steadiness in his voice eased away another of my concerns. Maybe it was the accent, the crispness in it just seemed refined and yet no nonsense. At the same time, I could listen to him all day.

“I do know you,” I said softly. “I’ve worked with all of you for years.”

“But?” he prompted, still drawing slow circles against my palm. The contact eased away the tension and left pleasurable shivers to trace through me.

“But that relationship has always been predicated by having a phone line and sometimes more than one ocean between us. It’s different to be with you now.”

That might be putting it poorly.

“Different bad? Or different good?” Before I could respond though, he nodded to my coffee. “And don’t let that get cold. You don’t like cold coffee.”

I wrinkled my nose at him. Not that he was wrong. I really didn’t care for cold coffee in the slightest. “Different, I’m not sure yet.” Still, I picked up my coffee with my free hand. The warmth penetrated my fingertips and reminded me of how chilled I’d grown. “But…”

I paused to take a sip, while also turning my answer over in my mind.

“Not bad,” I finally admitted. “Definitely not bad. I may not know what to do with all of this—all of you.” That wasn’t entirely true. After having sex with Locke, and Remy declaring he wanted me to enjoy having sex with him, I had a few ideas.

The problem, however, was that no matter how great sex was—it didn’t fix everything. It could only up your endorphins andmaybe give you time to figure things out. Worst case, it just delayed the resolution.

“You don’t have to make any decisions at the moment.” The gentle acceptance in Remy’s words and voice buoyed me.

“Not totally true,” I said, meeting his gaze.

“As true as it needs to be right now. No one is going to force you to make any decisions you don’t want to make or aren’t ready to make. No onewill.” Or they would deal with him.

I squeezed his hand in wordless thanks. “I need to get back to work.” As lovely as this discussion was… “We can’t let them keep setting the tone.” So far, I’d been fighting defensively.

“No, we can’t.” With that, Remy dropped a kiss on my head. “I’ll bring you more coffee in a bit. Two hours, no more than that. You also need to sleep.”

I made a face at him.

“Please,” he added. “You need to rest or we are all going to worry more.” All the fight went out of me.

Fine. “Two hours,” I promised, then pulled my hand from his grasp and turned to face the monitor once more. I could do a lot in two hours.

Chapter

Sixteen

REMINGTON

Three days after reuniting with Locke and Patch, we found a rest area along a desert highway to park and settle in. It was late, the weather outside had shifted from cold to considerably warmer. Though the temperatures would plummet when the sun went down. McQuade and Locke had alternated turns with the driving.

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