Page 59 of Never Fear (Whiskey Ridge)
Brynne sent her a small smile before McKenna left the room, heading down the hall. And when Booker glanced at me, a knowing look on his face, I didn’t have to tell them where I was going.
The whole fucking town of Whiskey Ridge could’ve seen it on my face.
Sliding out of my chair and nearly tripping over my feet in my rush, I cleared my throat and ignored the arched brows at the table. They could judge me all they wanted—I was feral for the woman.
The door to the bathroom upstairs was open, so I didn’t waste any time stopping there. I knew exactly where she’d gone.
When I made it to my room, I stopped, noting the inch gap in the door. As I quietly shoved it open, my heart stuttered. McKenna stood in the middle of the bedroom—my bedroom—with her bare back to me and her dress bunched at her waist. She was trying to shimmy out of it, but without loosening the corset properly, there was no chance it would make it over her ass.
I leaned a shoulder against the door jamb, crossing my arms. “Need some help?”
She jumped, spinning around with her arms barely covering her tits. She moved her fisted hands from the material to plop them on her hips. I silently swore at the sight ofher breasts on full display solely for me to see. Something about her standing there like that made all my doubts float away. She was giving in to this the same way I was.
Fucking finally.
She scowled at my smirk, which quickly fell away as my eyes roamed over every curve and indent on her beautiful skin. “You tied it too tight.”
“With the intention of being the one to take it off you.” I crossed the room, our gazes locked. My fingers hooked in the thin material of her dress and tugged it upwards. “Arms out.”
“I’m not a child,” she retorted, though it held no bite. She obeyed my command.
I worked the dress back up her torso, and once it was situated back in place, my hands roamed to her back, finding the bow. I easily undid the double knot, the meticulous work falling away. Then, with one small tug, the dress fell to the floor. To no surprise, she was completely bare. And I…I was fully clothed andsuffocatingunder her beauty.
“Is that drool?” she teased, squinting her eyes and cocking her head.
Without hesitation, I scooped her up and tossed her on the bed. The one that no longer felt like my own becauseshehadn’t slept in it.
She let out a small squeal, breasts bouncing as she perched up on her elbows. So achingly slowly, I crawled over her until she lay flat on the comforter, her bright blonde hair fanning out around her.
“You’re breathtaking, McKenna.” Holding in the words felt criminal.
“Don’t start getting sappy on me now, cowboy.” She ran a finger down my cheekbone, and I leaned into it. “I like your mean side.”
“I could never be mean to you.” Stalking? Sure. Getting irritated when she put her life in danger? Yeah. But mean? To her? I’d rather get kicked in the head by a horse. And if I ever was anything but ruthlessly caring toward her, I’d hope that was my fate.
She rolled her eyes, and I lowered to my elbows. “I mean it.”
Her expression sobered with my words, worry creasing her brow. “You’re scaring me.”
“I already told you, McKenna. You never have to fear when I’m around.Especiallyme.”
“Not like that.” Her throat bobbed with a swallow, her heart beating rapidly against my clothed chest. “You just… You’re looking at me like you?—”
“Like I what?” I asked when she didn’t continue.
She shook her head, ruffling her hair with the movement. “Like something changed.”
I brushed a strand out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Something did change.”
The crease in her brow deepened, but she didn’t speak.
“We don’t have to talk about it now—” I started.
Her head shook again, quickly. “No. I…” Her lashes fluttered. “I want to.”
My hands grew hot. I wasn’t expecting her to saythat. Wasn’t expecting her to be so okay with talking about what was happening between us. This entire time, she seemed to be dodging it. “You do?”
She nodded. All her little movements displayed hernerves on a blinking neon sign. “I’ve been avoiding it. I know I have. And I’ve been thinking a lot. I just—I’m good at running from how I feel. Good at pretending I can live my entire life the same way for the sake of keeping my happiness. But the last few weeks of being forced by your side”—I frowned at her phrasing—“have kind of proven that’s not logical.”
