Page 57 of Erik's Salvation
“I love you, Erik. And I need to know that you’re okay.”
He swallowed and dipped his head. The word okay felt foreign to him. “Vicky and I were young. We barely knew what love was.”
“But she was still yours to protect.”
His father said the words quietly, but they were like tiny little bombs detonating around him. How the man saw into his damn soul and pulled every crumb of guilt into the light, he had no idea.
“And it wasn’t just her who died.”
The familiar pain dug into his gut, almost making him keel over.
“Worse, it came straight off the back of losing half your team in the Middle East.” His father clenched his shoulder, and he felt that touch right down to his bones. “I’m here. We’reallhere for you. And we’ll be whatever you need us to be. Okay?”
He felt like a damn kid again. Fuck, he loved his dad. “I appreciate it, Dad.”
His father nodded and dropped his hand.
Erik looked back to the dance floor. When he saw men encroaching on the circle of women, his fingers tightened on his beer bottle for a second time. His eyes narrowed on a particular guy who started dancing beside Hannah.
Too. Damn. Close.
Erik had no fucking right to be jealous, but he was. Every part of him wanted to tear the guy’s arm off for a simple graze of her shoulder.
Stay still, Erik. Don’t cross the fucking room.
The words were like shouts in his head…
Shouts that went silent when the asshole touched her hip.
Erik was moving before he could stop himself, weaving through the crowd, never taking his gaze off Hannah. When he reached her side, he wanted to tug her away. Pull her into the protection of his arms.
He only just stopped himself, instead touching her elbow and tugging her away from the guy before leaning down so he could whisper into her ear. “Can I see you home?”
He had no damn clue what time it was, but they’d been here long enough.
The other guy stepped forward. “Hey. What are you—”
One look from Erik and the guy stopped, swallowed, then turned and wove through the dancing crowd.
Good. He wasn’t in the mood for a damn fight.
Hannah tilted her head, her bottom lip disappearing between her lips. Without even thinking, he reached up and pulled that lip out with his thumb before sliding the pad over it.
So fucking soft.
“Yes.”
He was so transfixed by her mouth, he almost forgot what the question had been. He slipped an arm around her waist and tugged her toward the door. It was raining outside, and when she leaned into his body, he shielded her as they moved to his Corvette.
The ride home was quiet but charged. His hand twitched to touch her. Graze her thigh or slip his fingers through hers.
Silently, she checked her blood sugar as he drove. Had she eaten?
He leaned over and opened the glove box, then pulled out a granola bar.
Her brows shot up as she slipped it from his fingers. “Thank you.”
When they finally reached their street, the rain was still heavy, so he drove down her long drive and parked close to her door. Even though they ran to the house, the rain still blasted them.
