Page 55 of Breaking Conviction
It wasn’t Dean. He’s out of my life. I’m safe.
“You okay?” Wes asked, concern furrowing his brow.
“What? Oh yeah. I’m fine—”
“Don’t do that.”
Naomi stopped and widened her eyes. “Don’t do what?”
“Lie. You’re safe with me, Naomi. You don’t have to lie with me.”
She bit back a growl. “What makes you so sure I was gonna lie to you?”
Wes groaned before swiping his face under his glasses and repositioning them. “How about this? Let’s just pretend for one second that I get where you’re coming from. And let’s also pretend this is a safe, judgment-free space and I’m a good listener. So in that world, if I asked you if you were okay, what would you say?”
Naomi bit the inside of her lips together, fighting back the habitual need to lie to protect her secrets. Instead, she trusted her instincts. “I was afraid it was Dean.”
Wes nodded. “Thought so.”
“But I don’t even know where my phone is...” The realization made her pause. “And I’m not sure I’ve been able to say that for the past five years. My, uh, Dean… He works security, too. With AIE—”
“AIE Securities?” Wes interrupted before widening his eyes and winced like he’d given himself away. “I might’ve, uh, run a background on him.”
Naomi snorted. “Honestly, I’d expect nothing less. Anyway—as I’m sure you know—he used to be a cop. I-it’s one of the reasons why I stayed so long. He’s got a lot of friends on the force still. Anyway, he is kind of obsessed with makin’ sure I’m ‘available’ at all times.”
A grim anger seemed to radiate from him, but to his credit, he closed his eyes and when he opened them again, they were clear. She noticed his hands tighten and the impulse to flee or fight tried to shout at her to get up.
But Wes wouldn’t hurt me.
The truth in the statement rocked her and she blinked back the sting in her eyes. She was close enough to see the calluses on his knuckles and without thinking, she reached to trace them. Instantly, he stilled as if she was a wild animal eating from his hand and he was afraid if he moved, she’d run away. Which wasn’t that far off, if she was honest.
“Where’d you get these?” She’d seen injuries on knuckles before, but she knew without a doubt Wes hadn’t gotten them from hitting a woman. “You been gettin’ in fights, troublemaker?” She forced a laugh as she teased him, hoping he hadn’t earned them actually hurting anyone.
He stretched his fingers under her hand and looked down at them before clearing his throat. “They’re, uh, from boxing.” Naomi felt her eyes narrow at his hesitancy before he continued. “Every crew member was military, special forces. We’ve all been taught expert fighting techniques. Boxing and mixed martial arts are the ones I’ve stuck with the best.”
She relaxed at his explanation and nodded, following the divots and hardened peaks of each knuckle. “See, I knew you were trouble,” she joked again, this time with a genuine smile of relief.
After a few more strokes, she felt Wes’s heated eyes on her. She stopped and reluctantly moved her hand so slowly that Wes had plenty of time to grab a hold of it and keep it between his.
He’d done that before too, held her hand in both of his. It felt natural, and an unexpected feeling of safety came from the simple act, unfurling something deep in her belly that she had been afraid to explore before she’d left Dean.
She’d ‘lost’ her engagement ring months ago, and ever since Wes had guided her and Thea to her car, Dean’s touch had felt like betrayal, not Wes’s. It was one of the reasons why she’d been so persistently against Wes for so long. If she’d given in to how good it’d felt when he was around, she would’ve done much worse than what they had in the BlackStone war room.
One of Wes’s hands left hers and stroked her cheek. “What’re you thinking over there, love?”
She rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “Just... I haven’t felt this way in... a long time.”
He tilted his head in question, but his eyes were intense and kind. “And what way’s that?”
“Mommy! I’m done.” Thea’s singsongy voice echoed toward them, bringing them out of the moment.
“Sorry, I have to go—” Naomi shot up off the couch, but Wes stood with her and tugged her elbow.
“Tell me, Naomi. Don’t run. What do you feel?”
Naomi thought through all the feelings roiling inside of her chest and chose the least risky one.
“Safe.”
