Page 22 of Whatever It Takes

Visions of the way Jameson walked out of Steffanie’s apartment replay over and over in my mind, which spills into the way he spoke to me and how he grabbed me.

The sad part is…it was nothing unusual compared to my life before the massacre. The bullshit arrangement my father forced me into with Avan Barrett would have been a thousand times worse.

The more I think about it, the more Jameson reminds me of Avan.

Avan laid it on thick in the beginning, likely to ensure I stayed compliant and willing to go through with the wedding—like I had a choice. But in the few days leading up to the ceremony, the cracks started to show.

One of his men mentioned someone named Brooklyn. I knew better than to ask, but I did, and my husband-to-be backhanded me for it. I had a busted lip on our wedding day, and both my parents knew who was responsible for it.

They did nothing to stop the union.

Not that a conversation would have put an end to his bad behavior, but at least it would have made it feel like they gave a shit about my well-being.

Then again, I never had any illusions of that.

“Okay,” Keir says softly. “You need to rest.”

I scoff.

It can’t be later than four or five p.m.

I still let Keir guide me to the bed. He tugs back the blanket before bending to help me out of my shoes and kicking them away. Once that’s done, he helps me out of my coat.

“In you go,” he says, holding up the blanket.

My chest gets tight. He’s going to tell me to get some sleep, and he’s going to leave.

But I don’t want to rest.

I want to snuggle with Keir.

Even his presence convinces my system that I’m safe. And I should know better than to trust any man, but something inside me says that logic doesn’t apply tothisman.

“Lie down, Briar.” That wasn’t a bark, but it rolls through my system like one. I scramble onto the bed, rolling until my head hits the pillow. Keir’s head tilts. “Are you going to make room for me, or do you want some privacy?”

I scoot over faster than I ever have. He drops the blanket, kicks off his shoes, and climbs onto the edge of the mattress.He’s so tall that his feet hang to nearly the end of the bed, even though he’s leaning against the headboard. He stretches an arm around the top of my head and teases his fingers through my hair.

“You are safe here. Don’t let fear tell you otherwise,” he murmurs in his thick accent. “I’ve got you. You have my word, nothing will hurt you on my watch.”

My heart thumps against my rib cage.

Why, exactly, did I waste years of my life dating guys my age? Sexy older Scottish men are obviously the way to go.

There’s basically no chance I’ll fall asleep with everything I’ve got running through my mind.

It takes a few minutes, but I find myself gravitating toward Keir’s smoky hazelnut scent, and when his chest begins to vibrate with a steady purr, I don’t even try to keep my distance. I snuggle right over until my face rests on his chest.

Now that I’m closer, it makes it harder for him to work his fingers through my hair, but his hand lands on my hip.

I shudder out a breath at the feeling of safety that comes from being wrapped up in his warmth.

Goddamn.

Keir is dangerous as fuck, mostly because he’s so easy to trust. That means the fall will hurt a thousand times worse when he drops me.

Chapter Ten

Easton

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