Page 87 of The Marine

Am I making a mistake?

She’s broken. She’s wounded. She will need to heal and trust and learn what it feels like to be loved by a man who won’t hurt her.

It might be because of what happened between us, but I became a desktop shrink, reading up on abuse and what it does to people, in my spare time.

Victims associate pain with love.

They are not always comfortable being truly loved.

It’s like building a muscle.

You need to do it mindfully and be conscious of it every day.

I don’t even know if Briar is aware of this or wants it. For all I know, she might sabotage us if we got together.

Then there’s her fucking mother. And my parents, who were just as furious about the situation.

I’m leaping ahead.

It’s what I do.

I was ready to propose to Briar on our third damn date.

Combing my fingers through my hair, I climb out of the vehicle and head up the elevator to my meeting. For the first time in my life, I can’t wait for the workday to be over and to get home.

To have Briar back in my arms.

And work out a way to keep her there and for us to be together. Because I have a feeling she wants to run.

I’m not letting her.

I have a lot of questions, like why the fuck is her husband coming to the wedding?

Why did she run into my arms last night and not his? Not complaining, but I need to understand what the fuck is going on in her sexy little head.

I don’t want to see her and her husband together after what we shared last night. After knowing he’s hurt her.

She needs to uninvite the prick.

The elevator pings open, and I walk across the lobby to the front desk.

“Mr. Black.” The beautiful young receptionist who always flirts greets me as she stands and leads me toward the large boardroom. “Can I get you a coffee?”

“Extra large this morning, please, Karrisa.”

She winks at me, and I hesitate for a moment. I’m a good-looking man. Built, powerful, successful, and handsome.

There are a million women who would be easier to be with than Briar.

But she’s the one I want.

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