Page 77 of Even if It Hurts

“Lainey,” he nearly begged. “Trust me.”

I grit my teeth because he already knew I did, but this wasn’t anI don’t trust you with my niecekind of talk. This was acoffee shopkind of talk.

“Jack Ryan?” I finally asked.

Asher’s eyes rolled and the corner of his mouth twitched. “Yeah. Jack Ryan.” He erased the space between us and sent my pulse into an absolutely frenzy when he cradled the side of my neck in his large hand. Pressing his thumb against my jaw, he tipped my head back as if this was normal for us—as if I wasn’t holding a screaming baby. “Everything,” he repeated meaningfully. “I’ll explain everything later. But Ihaveto go. Tell me if you’ll be okay.”

I wasn’t sure how to talk when I could barely form a coherent thought. But I somehow managed to ask, “Who’s coming?”

“Rush. You’ve met him,” he reminded me. “He’s my best friend. I trust him with my life, and he’s the only one I trust with yours.”

Something about that claim should’ve worried me; should’ve let me know I was in danger. But I was too busy trying not to swoon over this confusing, frustrating man to focus on that right then.

“’Kay.”

“He’ll stay out of your way,” he assured me. “Just do what you would normally do, and I’ll be back when we’re done.”

Uncertainty and shame dulled his eyes when he glanced at Kaia. With a gentle sweep of his thumb across my jaw, he released me and reached out to brush Kaia’s back, only to let his hand fall as he turned for the foyer just as the elevator arrived.

I stood there on unsteady legs, watching as he spoke with Cameron Rush in the time it took them to switch places on the elevator. By the time the doors had shut, the giant Viking was standing just beside it in a position that was too relaxed to be true.

“Miss Pearson,” he said in greeting.

“Will you be there all evening?” I asked as I rubbed soothing circles against Kaia’s back. “Rightthere?” At the dip of his head, those earlier warning bells I’d let slide started blaring.

Or maybe that was just Kaia.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on?”

“No, ma’am,” he said with a finality that was reminiscent of Asher, but Cameron was much nicer in his delivery.

I nodded absentmindedly as I wondered what could’ve happened for Asher to suddenly demand someone be here with usnow. And as Kaia smacked her hands against my chest in frustration, I wondered if this threat—or whatever it was—wasthe real reason behind Asher second-guessing if he was the right fit for his niece.

“It’s her naptime,” I said distractedly. “I’m gonna try to put her down.”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” Cameron told me, but I was already turning. My thoughts pulling in a dozen different directions because this day had been full of so many unexpected twists and turns, and I had a feeling it was only just beginning.

“This has to be why my parents cracked open the whiskey when we went to bed,” I said as I trudged into the living room that night, letting my exhausted voice carry to where Cameron had stood guard for hours.

His loud laugh bounced back at me, but I couldn’t find it in me to smile. Not just yet, anyway.

I needed a minute or two or sixty to decompress from the afternoon with Kaia.

She’d refused her afternoon nap. Had taken maybe two bites of dinner between the cries and screams that never seemed to end. Thrashed all throughout her bath and had fought sleep for an hour before finally giving in.

My nerves were shot. I was exhausted in a way I’d never known, which said a lot, considering the demanding work I’d grown up in. And I stupidly felt like crying because it felt like I’d gone ten rounds with a bull in the form of a baby...and lost.

But I just drew in deep, steadying breaths as I headed for the far corner of the kitchen, to where the espresso machine waited for me—note still attached.

“Cameron, do you want coffee?” I asked as I studied the machine as if it might miraculously turn on and make a drink for me.

“No, ma’am. Thank you,” he called back.

My head bobbed before I mumbled, “Do you know how to work this thing?” too low for him to hear.

Turning to the pantry, I searched through the things Asher had bought to go with the machine and found the instructions. And as much as my tired mind wanted to forget about it as soon as I opened the manual, I pushed forward until the smell of espresso was filling the kitchen and my soul.

By the time I had an iced caramel macchiato in hand, I had my playlist pouring through Asher’s speakers and was noticeably more relaxed than just minutes before.

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