Page 6 of Desert Loyalties
I finally look up at him, and the pain on my face is not just mine anymore. It’s his too.
He steps in closer, still holding my wrist, still watching me like I matter. “I didn’t stay away because I didn’t want you,” he says. “I stayed away 'cause I knew if I touched you, really touched you, I’d never let go.”
The swing groans behind him, the stars still glitter overhead, and for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel invisible.
I feelseen.
“Skye!” someone yells from the back door. “We need you in here, these hooligans are about to jump behind the bar!”
I blink, the sound cutting through the thick, breathless quiet between us. My heart's still hammering in my chest, loud enough I’m sure he can hear it. I swallow hard.
“Coming,” I call back, though it barely sounds like me.
Mandrake doesn’t move. Not right away. One of his hands is still wrapped gently around my wrist, grounding me. The other lifts slowly and deliberately until his fingers brush against my cheek.
Rough palm. Callused fingertips. Like a whisper he traces along my jaw, then ghosts his thumb across my lower lip. Barely there. Just enough to make me forget how to breathe.
His eyes don’t leave mine. Not for a second.
“Go,” he whispers.
But it doesn’t feel like a dismissal. It feels like a promise.
And I walk back toward the door with his touch still lingering on my skin, like it belongs there.
Chapter 3
MANDRAKE
Dirty.
Unclean.
That’s what she thinks the reason is.
Not that I’ve been too much of a coward. Not that I’ve been too stupid to see what’s been right in front of me for over a goddamn year.
No. She thinks it’sher. Thinks I stayed away because she’s used goods. Because she made the mistake of warming my brothers’ beds when she first showed up, before she figured out how this place really works. Before either of us figuredusout.
Truth? I’ve had my head shoved so far up my ass I can taste regret. I thought I was giving her space, letting her grow.
Yeah, I pulled out of the fog long enough to stop screwing around with the clubwhores, started turning them down, even when they were practically begging. That part was easy. What wasn’t easy was admitting what I’d known for a while.
I’d already met my old lady.
Her.
Skye.
And if I could go back and rewrite history? I’d scrub the memory of her with anyone but me. Especiallymybrothers. That shit burns deeper than I’d ever say out loud.
But it isn’t like I’m clean either. I’ve left a trail of broken, clawing, desperate women behind me. Some of them are still here. Still watching. Still waiting for me to slip back into old habits. Women who’d rip her to shreds if they thought it’d give them one more night in my bed.
So, if I have to swallow my pride and let that part of her past slide, I will.
But what Iwon’tlet slide?
Her dragging herself through the dirt like she’s not worth a damn.
