Page 20 of Butcher's Honor

This should feel too fast, too soon. But somehow, it just feels right.

When Tommy's finally settled back in bed, dinosaurs arranged protectively around him, Joey and I stand in the hallway, neither quite ready to say goodnight.

"Stay?" I ask softly. "Just to talk," I add quickly when his eyes darken. "I think we have a lot to figure out."

He nods slowly.

"Yeah, we do." His hand finds mine again, fingers intertwining naturally. "But whatever happens, I promise you this—you and Tommy are under my protection now. Both of you."

And despite all the reasons I should be wary, should take things slow, should protect my heart and my son's, I believe him completely.

Sometimes the most dangerous choice is the right one.

Chapter 9 - Butcher

Her bedroom is small but neat, moonlight spilling through thin curtains. I watch from the doorway as Ruby moves nervously around the space, straightening already-straight items.

"Sorry it's so tiny," she says, gesturing to the room. "I never expected to have someone your size in here."

The double meaning in her words makes heat pool in my gut. She blushes, realizing what she's said, but doesn't look away as she reaches for the hem of her sweater. The blue fabric rises slowly, revealing curves that have haunted my thoughts since yesterday.

"You don't have to—" I start, but my voice dies as more pale skin appears.

"I want to," she says softly, letting the sweater fall to the floor.

Her bra is simple cotton, practical rather than seductive, but somehow that makes it even more arousing. She's real, not some club girl playing dress-up. My hands itch to touch her, but I force myself to stay still, letting her set the pace.

Her jeans follow, and she stands before me in her underwear, vulnerability and trust written across her face. The moonlight plays across her curves, highlighting the slight tremor in her hands.

"Your turn," she whispers, fingers trailing over my cut.

I shrug it off, then pull my shirt over my head. Her sharp intake of breath makes me tense—my torso is a map of violence, bullet wounds and knife scars telling stories I'd rather forget.

But when she touches me, it's with reverence rather than fear. Her fingers trace each scar like she's learning their history, and something in my chest tightens painfully.

"We should sleep," I say softly, catching her hand before this goes further than either of us is ready for. "Tommy's just down the hall."

She nods, looking both relieved and disappointed. I strip down to my boxers while she pulls on an oversized t-shirt, and we climb into her small bed. She curls into my side immediately, her head finding a perfect spot on my chest.

"We need to talk about something," I say quietly, running my fingers through her hair.

"Hmm?"

"I want you to learn to shoot. Properly." I feel her tense slightly. "I know your dad taught you basics, but this is different. You need to know how to protect yourself and Tommy if I'm not around."

She props herself up on an elbow, looking at me seriously. "You really think it might come to that?"

"I hope not. But my world... it's dangerous. The Outlaws aren't going to back down easily, and if they ever found out about you and Tommy..." I trail off, not wanting to voice my fears.

"Okay," she says simply.

"Okay?"

"I'll learn. Whatever it takes to protect Tommy. To protect us." Her hand finds mine in the darkness. "Just... be patient with me?"

I pull her closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Always."

She settles back against me with a contented sigh, her breath warm against my chest. Soon, her breathing evens out in sleep, but I lie awake longer, watching the moonlight play across her peaceful face.

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