Page 56 of Never Fear (Whiskey Ridge)
“Find what you were looking for?” Booker asked.
Brynne let out a cheery “Yep,” and set the pie ingredients in the cart he was pushing.
When I lifted my gaze from the cans to Austin, I knew he sensed it. His eyes tracked down my body, likely taking in how tense I was. And when his focus moved to where the stitches were hidden behind my hair, his jaw ticked.
His look alone told me he’d demand answers the second we got home.
Maybe it was the fluttering of my heart or the nerves making my fingers stiff, but I decided right there that when he’d ask, I’d confide in him.
There was no more hiding from the man.
He’d simply hunt me down if I tried.
Chapter 22
Austin
“Are you mad at me?” McKenna’s voice—smaller than I’d ever wanted to hear it—seeped into my soul and tore out the anger, the frustration, and replaced it with?—
“No, I’m not mad at you,” I gritted out.
Her gaze turned skeptical, eyes narrowed from where she stood against the wall in my hallway. She’d dragged me up the stairs and down the hall as soon as we got here. I’d barely let her make it halfway to my room before I stopped her and demanded to know what she needed to tell me. And yes, I assumed she wanted tospeakand notfuckbecause apparently, she only had the guts to sleep with me while I literally slept.
I would’ve demanded we go back to her place after the store so we could talk about this privately, but Brynne’s Friendsgiving was tonight.
She raised a hand to my cheek, tracing the line of my jaw. “Your teeth might crack, cowboy.” The nickname was a whisper.
“If yours haven’t from all that gum chewing, I think I’m safe.” I could barely focus on anything but the feel of her fingers on me.
“Gum is soft. Your jaw is hard,” she retorted. “That’s hardly a comparison.” Then she proceeded to tell me what had happened.
“Did he touch you?” My voice was gravel, every gritted word fueled by the thought of a man’s eyes on her without me there. I needed to know if his hands had been on her, too. If I should sharpen my knives and ditch dinner.
She blinked, like she wasn’t expecting that. I’d been holding back asking, hoping that if the man in the grocery store had touched her, she would tell me. But when she didn’t mention if he did or not, my fists clenched and my eyes saw red. She was probably right—I might break. Not because I was weak, but because the thought of someone doing something to her made me fucking insane.
“No,” she admitted.
Then where was the bite in her words? Where was the taunting McKenna, constantly pushing back at me? I wanted the war between us to start anew, for her to scowl at me, kiss me out of hatred, and let me bring her to the brink of orgasm so I could see those perfect lips form anO. I wanted to wrench my name from her mouth like it was my most important mission. Wanted to see every part of McKenna besides this one—the one that curled up into a ball and looked defeated. Like she would’ve held this information from me if it weren’t for the fear hidden deep beneath her blue gaze.
“Tell me again what he said.” I enunciated each word carefully, slowly.
“He was talking about cherries—” she started, but I plastered both hands on the wall beside her head, caging her in.
“Exactlywhat he said.”
Her eyes darted to my mouth, lingering for a second before she wrapped a hand around my forearm. I sucked in a breath, wanting nothing more than to close the distance and kiss the shit out of her. But that had to wait.
“Brynne and I were talking about the filling for the pie,” she said, repeating what she’d told me not five minutes ago. Rage had taken over, and I needed to make sure I hadn’t missed a single detail. “He came up behind us and told us we should do cherry.” She swallowed, lifting her chin higher. “That we can never go wrong with cherry. I told him it was boring”—she visibly noted the way my jaw clenched harder over the fact that she’d spoken to him—“and he said they were sweet. That everyone likes sweet.”
The innuendo behind his statement had me seeing nothing past the rage clouding my vision. Hearing nothing but the pounding of my heart as I ached to find the man and choke the life out of him. Even if he wasn’t the same one who’d run her off the road, I’d kill him.
A hand on my chest pulled me from my stupor. I looked down to find McKenna trailing a palm up my black button-up shirt. The top button was undone and the sleeves were rolled to my elbows. When her fingers brushed the sliver of my exposed chest, a chill shot down my spine. She dragged her entrancing touch to my neck, tugging me closer.
My gaze fell to the top of her white dress. Tiny strawberries were printed all over the fabric, and it clung to herfigure like it was made specifically for her. Her breasts were pressed together, cleavage on full display, and my tongue went dry at the thought of tugging it down and drawing her nipple into my mouth.
I let her pull me closer, one hand gripped on my forearm, the other looped around the back of my neck like I was keeping her grounded in this moment. I wasn’t sure how I could be a stable anchor as I was currently way the fuck above cloud nine, lying in the goddamn heavens with her hands on me.
It was a hell of a lot better than the paralyzing anger that had coursed through me moments ago.
