Page 24 of All of Me

I wasn’t fazed at the change of subject because I’d been expecting us to get around to it. Was I going to go home with him? Should I? “I thought you might have changed your mind about me staying there.” I gripped my mug, but it was empty. “I’m not coming if you’re going to do that. I need somewhere settled.” I shrugged. “I can keep out of your way.”

“Not here, but at home,” Drake said. “We can talk,” he clarified.“Please,”he added which surprised me.

Brew refused to take any money, and Cynthia refused to take a tip. She was as stubborn as her dad. Brew just folded his arms across his massive chest, and Cynthia disappeared into the kitchen after a second round of hugs. Brew walked us to the door and changed the sign to closed, then after telling Drake to make sure he brought me to poker night, he locked the door behind us after we’d left.

I couldn’t help looking at every car and listening out for the sound of revving engines as we walked past to get to Drake’s. Not that I was surprised it was on my mind. In the last few days someone had tried to burn the house down, and then one or both of us had been shot at.

Drake was right because as escalations went, they were stepping up.

But I was nervous for another reason now. Drake wanted totalkand I had absolutely no idea what he was going to say.

Chapter Ten

Please be warned this chapter contains a scene of animal cruelty (not by the MCs) that you might find distressing. I’ve marked a break in the chapter. The first half is important to the plot, and you should read it, but you can skip over the part I’ve marked until the point at which I say it’s safe to continue reading should you wish.

Drake

So, my plan to help Shae get a little confidence had backfired and I nearly lost him. That was the trouble with all this relationship shit. It was harder to navigate than a blown out road in Baghdad.

I spent ten minutes panicking, knowing I was going to have to say something, but I didn’t know where to start, and after catching another look from Shae I just forged ahead. “Dad threw an ashtray at me when I was nine. I was told to clean it up so I picked it up, but it was like a brick and I fumbled it, spilling ash on the floor. He lost it, as usual.” I pointed to my cheek. “Lotsof blood so Mom took me to get it stitched, but she said I’d been climbing trees and they believed her.”

Shae blinked at me stupidly because that probably wasn’t on the list of things he’d imagined I’d say.

“I’m telling you because…” I trailed off, then swore and pulled over. We were on a quietish road and Shae’s eyes widened at the abrupt stop, but then I turned to him. “Christ, I have no idea why I told you that, but I’m old. I will fuck up all the time.” I waved a hand in frustration. “I know I’m second-guessing myself. One minute I want nothing more than to take you home and lock the world out on the other side of the door, and the next I’m expecting you to want to run. Every reminder of my fucked-up parents screws with me, but I’m usually better than this. I got all twisted up because I don’t want you to pity me, and I’m toofucking old.” I nearly growled the last words.

But before I’d managed to take another breath, Shae was sitting on top of me, legs astride, facing me. His hands cupped my face. Shock kept me immobile long enough for him to lower his head and fasten his lips on mine.

He kissed me like it would be his last. As if he expected to get shoved out of the car, but what he got was a deep rumble that morphed into a groan before my arms came up to trap him there. I took over the kiss and slanted my lips against his. He tasted as good as he looked. Coffee, with a slight hint of the mint he’d grabbed when we got in the truck. He was just trying to reach to get his fingers under my shirt when I realized where we were and pulled back. He leaned forward because I was sure he didn’t want to stop, but my hand on his cheek stopped him. I tried to adjust my jeans and winced. “Long fucking time since I came in my pants but you’re in danger of sending me there,” I groused.

I met his gaze, fixed on mine. I knew he was trying to work out if I was rejecting him, but he was so wrong, he had no idea. I wasn’t hiding. I wasn’t trying to look away.

“I have to see to the dogs, and you have to talk to Albert,” he said.

“Yes,” I agreed.

“But then can we go home and lock the world out like you said?”

His smile was hesitant, hopeful. Mine was slow and made a shit-ton of promises. He climbed off me at normal speed and sat down as he put his seat belt on.

“Never been into BDSM,” I remarked, “but if you use your speed for one more thing that isn’t an emergency, I might have to tan your ass.”

The smirk I got was adorable.

An hour later, I’d watched Shae for a few moments with the dogs and noticed one of the two pitties was missing and the large hound, and hoped that meant they’d had families adopt them. I wasn’t sorry to see what I thought of as Shae’s puppy still here. Shae hadn’t said a word to me about him, obviously, but you’d have to be blind to miss how he was with the little guy.

Shae got started on the pens, letting all the dogs out, and then mixing their food. I realized I was just standing there instead of doing what I was supposed to be doing, so I turned and headed for the house.

I knocked and opened the door as they had both instructed me to do, finding Moira up to her elbows in flour. She tilted her cheek for my kiss. “Everything good?”

“Shae’s in the barn. I thought I’d come and see how Albert’s doing.”

Moira smiled. “He’s in the den. Go on through.”

Albert was in what Moira often called his cave, but more politely referred to as the den. It was a small, cozy room full of books. He was sitting in a leather armchair with his feet up, glasses perched on the end of his nose, and looked up as I camein. “Perfect timing.” I shook my head as he gestured to the small drinks trolley.

“Thought the doc said you had to cut back?” Pretty sure the doc had told him to cut it out completely.

“Those cigars,” he pointed to the glass case, “stay in there now. I have a finger of Redbreast three times a week before supper.” He paused. “One of the earliest memories I have. Grandad pouring some and letting me have a sip.” He grinned. “Choked and nearly spat it out, but Grandad always used to say he’d watched his father do the same, and it was something we did in this family. Of course, that was when they owned a healthy chunk of Texas and before…well, you know.”

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