Page 19 of Protected from Malice
It doesn’t erase all the things Iwantto say to her.
I’m sorry I wasn’t a better friend.
I’m sorry I let you down.
I’m sorry I wasn’t there.
Please. Don’t cry. I’ll do anything if you’ll stop.
Hearing you cry makes me feel like my heart is dying.
As I make my tenth? fifteenth? twentieth? circuit around the room, a flash of memory hits me.
Last year, coming back to the Blade and Arrow ranch in Texas after helping the team stop that sick monster and his fucked up dark web game, I stood in the background andwatched the tearful homecoming. I remember how Tate threw herself at Erik, sobbing in relief because she’d been so terrified he wouldn’t make it back safely.
I still remember Erik’s expression. So relieved to have her in his arms, but desperate to fix things. To take away her tears. To make her smile again.
Shit. That’s how I feel about Eden.
But Erik and Tate were a couple. In love. Now they’re married.
It’s not close to the same for me and Eden.
And I have no right to hold her unless it’s for her protection.
No right to go into the bathroom, where I might see her naked?—
Fuck.
Don’tthink about Eden naked.
Don’t think about her all wet, her skin flushed with heat, brushing her hair back from her face and kissing her damp lips?—
Fuck.
Desire surges, making my pants uncomfortably tight.
My hands itch to touch her. To trail my fingers across her skin, tracing the patterns of freckles that always come out the second she spends any time in the sun. To cup her sweet ass and lift her against me, feeling her heat pressing against mine. To hear her soft moans, capturing them in my mouth and?—
Dammit.
I slam my fist on the windowsill; welcoming the flare of pain that follows.
I deserve to feel pain, thinking about Eden like that. Thinking about her naked, about the things I’d like to do to her, when I should be focused on her protection instead.
She’s scared. Hurt. Crying, for fuck’s sake. And I’m out here like a horny teenager fantasizing about his first crush.
“Fuck,” I mutter. My jaw clenches.“Fuck.”
In the bathroom, the shower shuts off.
I pace back across the room, feeling more like a caged animal than human.
My phone is a weight in my pocket, getting heavier by the minute.
It’s a reminder of all the people Ishouldcall. Indy. Cole. My boss, to tell him to reassign my jobs since I won’t be leaving Portland until this situation with Eden is resolved.
At least the work part is easy. I pull out my phone and shoot off a quick text explaining I have a family emergency out on the west coast and that I’ll let him know as soon as I get back to Texas.
