Page 33 of The Hero's Bride
He chuffed. “That title is reserved for you. I’m a goofy-looking bastard at best.”
“No. You are beautiful on the outside, and the inside.”
He sat forward, leaning closer so their noses touched. “So are you,” he murmured with his lips against hers. The friction sent a delicious jolt from her mouth to her core.
“Will you share the guest bedroom with me?” She felt her blush deepen.
“Is that what you want?” he countered.
She nodded, and if he noticed her red cheeks, he was sweet enough not to mention them.
He searched her face and must’ve been satisfied with what he found, because he dipped his chin. In one fluid motion, he was standing with her in his arms. She crossed her knees behind his back and let him carry her into the bedroom. He placed her down gently on the bed and reached for the duffel bag he’d bought to carry her clothes.
“Go change, baby.” He gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “Don’t take too long though. I don’t know how I feel about Iron’s parents staring down at me when I’m in my skivvies.”
A full-bodied laugh tumbled from her lips. “Maybe you should turn the lights out to preserve your dignity.”
“Then I’d miss watching you get into bed with me. Dignity be damned.”
She giggled and shook her head, reaching into the bag to pull out the shorts and camisole set. In truth, she’d worn and slept in the same clothes at the Day estate. She’d had exactly two uniforms that she rotated in and out every few days and that was far more clothing than she’d had on the streets of Colima. She brought her things to the bathroom and shut the door. What a strange concept to have items of her own. Ones that belonged to her. Just her. Yes, Mason had bought them, but she knew his heart well enough to know they were given freely without strings attached, even if she was determined to pay him back.
She stripped out of her clothes, neatly folding them before putting on the soft cotton pajamas. They felt so comfortable that she sighed at the feel of them against her skin. Another luxury was socks. She loved how they made the floor beneath the soles of her feet cushioned and warm, and she’d taken to sleeping in them, too. Thalia had noticed that Mason didn’t wear them when he slept, but he would never make fun of her to be cruel. After brushing her teeth, she padded back to the bedroom and opened the door. Mason had pulled back the covers on her side and was lying propped up on his elbow. He let out a long breath and shook his head.
“Fucking perfect.” His guttural tone sent a shiver of pleasure through her. She slid under the sheets, and he turned to click off the bedside lamp before enveloping her in his embrace, tucking her close so her head rested on his chest and their legs were intertwined.
“Night sweet girl.”
“Good night, Mason.” Although she wanted to kiss him and more, Iron’s home wasn’t the time or place. Cocooned in his warmth, she signed deeply, melting against him. She felt his chest rise as he buried his nose in her hair and breathed her in, right before she fell asleep.
Chapter Sixteen
Holding Thalia throughthe night and waking with her in his arms had penetrated the hollow void in his heart, infusing it with warmth and another emotion he wasn’t ready to name out loud. He’d learned to live with a sense of emptiness that had left him lacking something essential: the part of him that craved the belonging and acceptance that his careless parents had failed to provide. Now, as he sat beside her eating scrambled eggs and French toast, the underused organ in his chest was replete with her mere presence. He could tell Iron felt the same about Vivienne by the way the hardened veteran smiled at her, even when she wasn’t looking.
“As much as I want to keep you to myself,” Vivienne said reaching across the table to take Thalia’s hand, “there’s a whole bunch of people who are either dying to meet you or want to thank you. The men wanted to be here too, but they got called out on a mission. Everyone but Joker, because his wife Sam is going to have their first baby any day now, so Sully took his place.”
Thalia jerked beside him. “Thank me?” Her nose scrunched in an adorable expression. “Why?”
His gaze moved back and forth between the women as Vivienne gaped at Thalia from across the table. “Because without you, Hannah never would’ve known how desperately I wanted to get away. You gave me the opportunity to escape and the strength to actually follow through.” Iron’s arm wrapped around Vivienne as her eyes overflowed. Tears coursed down her cheeks as Iron swiped each one away. “And then because of my family, you were kidnapped. Held for over a month. I thought I was never going to see you again.”
“None of that was your fault. You are not your parents and both of us were prisoners in our own way. I may have gotten your sister that note, but you sent Mason and Sully after me. Without you, no one would’ve known I was missing—or cared.”
His gut twisted at the thought of Thalia being lost to him forever. Of the pain she would’ve endured. Thalia’s eyes glistened with the sheen of unshed tears, and he gave her knee a squeeze beneath the table. Moved by the emotion on her face, Mason placed his fingers under her chin and tilted her head up to him. “You have a whole network of people who care about you now. You’ll never be alone again.”
“Before you leave, we’ll program everyone’s number into your phone,” Iron said. “Any of us are just a call or text away.”
“I don’t have a phone, but if we could write them—”
“You have a phone, sweetheart.” He couldn’t stop himself from leaning forward and kissing her temple. When Vivienne had texted him earlier to let him know she’d purchased Thalia a cell phone, he was frustrated with himself for not thinking of it sooner.
“How else am I going to keep in touch with my best friend?” Vivienne sniffled, then smiled, sudden enthusiasm flooding her face. “I’m going to get it!” She scrambled over Iron’s lap and raced out of the room. Before Vivienne came back, there was a knock on the door.
“I knew they’d never be able to stay away,” Iron grumbled and paced down the hall. A long shriek echoed through cottage and a lanky teenager with a shock of red hair ran through the home. He skidded to a halt, nearly sliding past the breakfast nook.
“Collin!” Vivienne yelled equally as loud as she wrapped the boy in a hug. “This is my nephew.” She beamed up at Collin and gestured to him and Thalia. “Collin, this is my best friend Thalia and her friend, Red.”
The teenager’s eyes hadn’t left his face as he stared at his hair and beard. “Mr. Red has red hair! Red like firetrucks and cherries. Red like Collin and Hannah Day!” Collin wiggled his fingers by his left eye, taking his gaze off Red to regard the movement of his hand closely. A woman on crutches with a leg brace came into the kitchen to stand by her son. Their features were so alike, they couldn’t be anything but members of the same family.
“Collin has red hair. Hannah has red hair. Red has red hair.” The teen laughed and raced out of the room.
