Page 65 of Love Finds Home

“Technology at its finest.”

“Enough show and tell,” Ranger growls behind us. “Let’s get out of here.”

I roll my eyes at Joker, who lifts his brow at the demand in Ranger’s voice.

“This is going to be a long night,” I mumble to myself as I stand.

I realize I wasn’t quiet enough when Ranger gets in my ear and whispers, “This is going to be an orgasmic night.”

Well. Okay, then. If that’s what he wants, who am I to argue?

Chapter 23

Ranger

I’m angry. At theworld. At douchebags named Stefon. At Elle. But mostly, I’m mad at myself. Fucking pissed off, actually. Because I should have seen this coming. I should have paid more attention to what was going on around me. Fuck, right under my own damn nose. Some creeper has been in my town, stalking my girl. Yes, I saidmygirl. She’s mine. I might not like it, but the truth never lies.

Elle gets in my truck as we all leave the gallery without complaining or saying something sassy. That’s not normal. She’s not even trying to cover up her unease, which makes me even more angry. Someone is fucking withmy Tinkand when I find them, they better hope I can’t get close.

At the hotel, I go to the desk and change out keys. They moved my stuff into the new room while we were at the gallery, and we have two new rooms. Ha! That was sweet. We won’t be needing two rooms. I plan on burying myself in her sweet, tight heat allnight long and making both of us forget there’s a psycho out there. I thank the front desk clerk and grab the bag off of Elle’s shoulder. She looks so small. Lost. Have to admit, I don’t like it. When I take her hand in mine, she does this whole-body shiver, and I see her body physically relax.

“It’s all going to be okay,” I whisper in her ear as I reach across her to push the elevator button. “Promise.”

She nods, but doesn’t talk. The woman looks like she’s carrying the world on her shoulders. I much prefer the freak out she had last week, when she just threw everything out there. It’s not healthy to keep everything bottled up inside. Ask me how I know.

When we step on the elevator, we’re alone. I pull her into my arms and kiss the top of her head, relishing in the feeling of her relaxing against me.

“I got you, Tink,” I tell her.

She looks up at me, tears in her eyes, and I almost break. I almost tell her everything I’m trying so hard not to feel. Instead, I lower my head and kiss her. This kiss is different from any we’ve shared before. This isn’t about the next step, it’s solely for comfort. It’s soft and gentle, not hard and punishing. It’s full of promises and tomorrows and a future that terrifies me.

When the elevator dings and the doors open, Elle pulls away and looks at me with fathomless eyes. There are questions in those eyes, and I wish I had the answers, but I don’t.

“Let’s go to bed, Tink.” I hear the gruffness in my voice, and so does she.

She clasps my hand again, and we walk silently down the hall to our rooms. I open her door for us and let her walk in first.

“This is nice,” she quietly says as she enters the suite.

It looks like a big hotel room to me, with a bed and separate seating area with a small table by the window. I don’t usually get the ones with extra seating, but Elle is used to this life. Tothe extras. It’s another layer in the reasons why everything about being with her is a bad idea.

“Get comfortable, Tink,” I tell her. “I’m going to make sure all my stuff is in the other room. I’ll be right back, okay?”

She nods and heads into the bathroom. I hear the shower turning on and almost follow her. But I think she needs a few minutes alone. To let out the emotions, to not worry someone is judging her—which I wouldn’t do, for the fucking record. I’ve just opened the adjoining room’s door when my phone rings. Joker.

“Hey, what’s up?” I ask, entering the room and sighing in relief at my bag sitting on the bed.

“I went to see our friend again. Wanted to make sure the message was received,” he answers with no warning.

I sink onto the edge of the bed, watching the opening between rooms to make sure Elle is still in the bathroom. “And?”

“And the dude is messed up. His apartment looks like a woman decorated it.”

“How so?”

“Throw pillows, man. You know women are the only ones who buy those.”

I chuckle. “There were throw pillows, therefore a woman must live there?”

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