Page 75 of Shelter from the Storm

She was in love with him.

Gretchen sat there and let that fact set in, waiting for… Well, she didn’t know what she was waiting for. Maybe panic or fear or self-doubt.

None of it appeared.

Instead, all she felt was how right it was.

For the first time in her life, all the pieces had fallen into place, none of them feeling askew, or jammed in, or wrong.

Gretchen stood as well, quietly helping Theo clean the kitchen. Once they were finished, he flipped the towel he’d been using to dry the dishes, over his shoulder. “Should we change into our comfortable clothes and meet on the couch in five?”

Another part of their nighttime routine included pajamas—both of them trading their jeans for lounge pants and soft cotton T-shirts.

Gretchen shook her head, her response obviously surprising him.

“No?”

“No. I don’t want to meet you on the couch.” She took a deep breath and decided confronting Briggs wasn’t going to be her first act of bravery.

This was.

“I want to meet you in the bedroom.”

Theo’s eyes darkened with desire. “Gretchen.” He wanted her, she could see it, but he needed to hear more from her.

“I want to sleep with you,” she added.

“Sleep?”

She laughed. “Fuck,” she clarified.

“Fuck,” Theo breathed, using the word as a prayer and a curse rather than a verb. Then his eyes narrowed. “You and I are never going to fuck. We’re only ever going to make love.”

Gretchen liked the sound of that. Liked it enough that she rose on tiptoe, kissing his cheek. “You coming?” she asked, as she turned toward her bedroom.

Theo was hot on her heels.

“Hell yeah, I’m coming.”

Chapter Thirteen

Theo followed Gretchen into her bedroom, feeling like the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet. And while he could see she truly wanted him and her invitation was sincere, there was something that had been weighing heavy on his mind ever since she’d told him about Briggs.

He didn’t want to bring her abusive ex into the bedroom with them, but he needed one more answer before he proceeded. Because Gretchen had confessed a couple days earlier that her panic attack in the barn hadn’t been driven by the storm or his kisses or even his proclamation that she was his.

He’d inadvertently triggered it by grasping the back of her neck to pull her in for another kiss. It reminded her of Briggs choking her. Theo felt physically ill, knowing he’d put that memory back in her head, even though she reassured him that she knew he would never hurt her that way.

Gretchen led him straight to her bed before turning and wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

Theo gripped her waist, holding her back.

His hesitance confused her. “Theo?”

“I have to ask, kitten.” He paused for a second, searching for the right words. “I need to know if Briggs ever… If when you were together…”

Understanding dawned on her face and she quickly shook her head. “No. No. He never hurt me that way. I guess if there’s a small mercy…it’s that. His preferred violence was by using his fists. Not sex.”

Knowing her asshole ex had never raped her was a relief, but that didn’t mean he agreed with what she said. “Nothing he did was merciful.”

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