Page 19 of Bred By the Mercenary

“Well, it’s a bit of a story, really,” I start, picking at the remaining Chinese food. “I was pretty desperate when I firstwalked into the bar. I had no experience in bartending or anything like it, but Roger, he saw something in me, I guess. He hired me on the spot.” I pause for a moment, lost in the memories.

“I lost my parents and ended up moving in with my aunt. It was a tough time, you know. I was trying to find my feet, figure out where I belonged.” I let out a small laugh, noting two boxes of Chinese food were now empty because of me. “I must be starved,” I say, trying to lighten the mood, but my mind is still spinning from the revelations about Daxton’s past.

He’s listening to me, his gaze never wavering from me. After I finish, there’s a moment of silence before he speaks.

“I’m sorry to hear about your parents, Amelia. Life throws us into deep waters sometimes, doesn’t it? But it sounds like you’ve been swimming pretty well, despite the currents.”

I laugh. “It feels like the opposite to me.”

He leans back, his eyes narrowing on me. “It’s impressive, you know, how you’ve handled everything.”

“Thanks. No one’s ever said something like that to me before.” I start packing up the remains of my meal. “I can’t thank you enough for everything, but today has been too much... and I might crash.”

“Your room is the first at the top of the stairs. Make yourself at home.”

I stand up, uncertain whether I should hug him or not, fearing that if I get too close, I might not be able to stop myself from kissing him. So, I rush upstairs, and once in the room, I finally feel like I can breathe again.

“I’m in a mercenary’s home!” The thought hits me as I yawn, exhaustion taking over. I find an ensuite and head in for a quick shower. Clean and wearing an old, long tee I packed, I switch off the light and climb into bed. It’s so crisp and fresh that I melt into the mattress and pillow.

Lying there in the dark, the day’s events whirl through my mind. I’m in Daxton’s home, a man whose life is far more complex and dangerous than I ever imagined. Could things get weirder? As sleep begins to pull me under, I realize that despite everything, I feel safe here.

The quiet of the room is broken by a soft knock at the door.

“Enter,” I call out.

The door opens, and Daxton’s large frame fills the doorway, backlit by the light from the hallway. He steps in, his presence immediately filling the room.

“I just wanted to make sure you found everything all right,” he says, his voice low and reassuring. “And to let you know that you’re safe here. I give you my word. This room is yours for as long as you need it.”

His offer overwhelms me, and I quickly reply, “Oh, no, I can’t impose.”

“It’s not negotiable,” he states firmly, but there’s a soft smile on his face.

A silence falls between us, and it strikes me how, despite everything he’s told me, I’m still incredibly attracted to him.

“Good night, Amelia.”

As he turns to leave, I find myself calling out to him. “Daxton.”

He pauses instantly, turning back to me with a questioning look. “Yeah?”

I don’t have the words at first, so I just stick out my hand to him. He looks at it for a moment, then gently takes it in his.

“I don’t want to be alone right now,” I admit breathlessly. “And besides, according to my account, you still have a long way to go to make it up to me for vanishing those three months.” I smirk at him.

He nods in understanding, saying, “I feel like shit for doing that. And I’ll do anything until you forgive me… sorry, little dove.”

Then he kicks off his shoes and closes the door behind him. After throwing his shirt off and remaining just in jeans, he climbs into bed behind me under the blankets. His powerful arms wrap around my middle and drag me over to him. I have my back plastered to his chest, my head resting on his bicep. His leg scoops over mine and drags them between his, where he holds me.

His presence brings an immediate sense of adrenaline, of arousal, and of safety that I didn’t realize I was craving until now.

“Is this okay?” he asks, his breath on my head as he’s got me tucked under his chin. As encased as he’s got me, I might think I wouldn’t like it… except I don’t want to be anywhere else but here.

“Yes, this is super close and…perfect.”

One of his hands is on mine, and his fingers are drawing a small circular pattern on my skin, the sensation both a real turn-on but relaxing. Is he doing that on purpose?

“So,” I say. “You never told me why you bought the bar.”

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