Page 292 of Branded
“No,” I said, patience finally snapping. I was exhausted…and I was capable. Of a lot of things, but most certainly of walking the ten feet it took to make it into my own apartment. “I played along with the caveman thing because that was easier at the bar,” I told him. “But I won’t do it in my own home.”
His teeth clicked together.
I braced for an argument.
But, to my surprise, he just stepped back, let me get out of the car (and get to my own feet). “Keys,” I said, softening my tone because he was listening and because…apples and cinnamon and peanut butter, gentle fingers smoothing bandages on my arm, soft lips coaxing mine open, a hot, slick tongue dancing along mine.
He held them out.
I took them.
And look at that. Those ten steps up to my front door took no time at all, and then I was unlocking it, turning the handle and quietly letting myself into my apartment.
Cas followed me, but I didn’t protest that particular development.
First, I had to make sure Mary got safely into her apartment. Then I would call Cas a Lyft so he could get back to his car at the bar.
Then I would sleep.
Glorious, glorious sleep.
Flicking on the hall light, I moved to where Mary was sleeping on the couch, knelt at her side, and gently woke her.
It took a few minutes because Mary was a deep sleeper, but eventually, I managed to get her up off the couch, to gather her things, and to get her into her own apartment next door, Cas making the task a bit easier by unlocking it for me (always the hardest part of the task since Mary’s body seemed to suddenly be full of sand rather than bones).
“Thanks,” I murmured. “Can you wait outside?” I whispered when he went to lift Mary off me. “She’s a little nervous of new people. I know she’s asleep, but I don’t want?—”
“Of course.” He touched my cheek, slipped back outside.
I closed the door, hauled Mary down the hall. My sitter roused herself enough to kick off her shoes and stumble toward the bed, and I supervised, making sure that she didn’t crash into any other piece of furniture (or any of the crap that was littered around the bedroom floor). Yawning as I tugged the covers up and tucked her in, I hoped like hell that Matt and the police and Cas got the shit that Chelsea was pulling settled down so there were no more nights like this.
I slipped from the bedroom, down the hall, and stepped out onto Mary’s porch.
Cas was sitting there. Not on his phone. Not looking impatient or annoyed. Just waiting and watching for me.
I inhaled.
Apples and peanut butter and cinnamon.
Gentle touches and scorching hot kisses.
Was I sure I didn’t want more of those?
Because just thinking about not having them made me feel real dumb. Who turned down a man like Cas, who was nice and thoughtful and sexy and strong and kissed me until I stopped thinking? And who wanted me. Me.
No one really wanted me.
No one had ever really wanted me.
And I knew that because I’d been wooed and wowed before. Because I’d thought a man was all of those things before.
And while I’d gotten Ethan out of it…I’d also had Nate.
Who’d left my heart in tiny little shards, who’d broken me until I couldn’t trust my heart with anyone.
Because I’d laid that unprotected organ at his feet and he’d…
Stomped on it.
