Page 26 of Resist

The two of them ate in silence, and Ainsley appreciated the fact Coulton wasn’t one of those people who felt like he had to fill the quiet with meaningless chitchat.

“Thanks for the shirt and boxers,” she said after a few more bites. There was no way she was going to be able to eat the entire bowl. She wondered if it would be rude to ask for a doggie bag, because she hated the idea of wasting such delicious, expensive food.

Coulton must have noticed her slowing down. When she tried to hide a yawn, he put his fork down. “Had enough?”

She knew he was asking about the salad, but her nod covered a hell of a lot more. Because she’d had more than enough of so many things.

This day.

This life.

Coulton reached out, and she took his hand without even thinking about it. He walked her back to the guest room, keeping her hand tucked in his the whole way. He stopped at the door.

“Want anything else? Tylenol?”

She shook her head. “I’m okay.”

He pointed down the hall to a closed door at the end. “I’ll be right there if you need me.”

“Thanks, Coulton. For everything. Tonight was…” She stopped.

“It was shitty, horrible, the worst,” he finished for her. “And you and I are going to talk about it. But not tonight.”

She would be fine with never talking about it, but Coulton didn’t seem like the type of person to let things lie. No doubt he resided in that camp that thought talking made shit better.

Ainsley, in the meantime, was a firm believer in burying all the bad stuff deep and never looking back.

But she didn’t get a chance to let him know the conversation about tonight was off the table, because her brain short-circuited and every sore part of her body redirected its pain to her pussy when Coulton kissed her bruised cheek.

“All better,” he teased with a wink. His lips were soft and warm and touching in the wrong place, because she really—REALLY—wanted him to kiss her for real. In fact, it was on the tip of her tongue to remind him that her lip was hurt too.

She huffed out a soft laugh instead, exhaustion overpowering even her hormones. It really had been a shitty day.

“Good night, Ainsley.”

Coulton waited as she walked into the room and closed the door. It didn’t occur to her that she hadn’t locked the door until she’d climbed under the sheets. That fact drove home just how safe she felt with Coulton.

She didn’t even sleep in an unlocked room in her own home, not trusting her brother not to rifle through her stuff to steal, or her dad not to come in and whale on her if he got pissed. Mick had a hell of a temper, and she’d been woken up more times than she could count by him slapping her after discovering some transgression, like she hadn’t done the dishes or had forgotten to buy something he’d asked for from the store.

Ainsley shoved those thoughts away because she didn’t want them tainting this single perfect moment.

Her stomach was full.

She was clean and warm.

And this was the most comfortable bed she’d ever been in.

She burrowed deeper under the soft covers and drifted into the best sleep of her life.

CHAPTERFOUR

Coulton lifted the griddle,giving it a quick swish with his wrist to flip the pancake. He kept an ear out for his overnight guest, anxiously waiting for her to join him.

Last night had started out as a waking nightmare. Walking into that tavern and seeing those two men attacking Ainsley had stolen ten years off his life.

She’d been fighting with everything she had—and as much as that impressed him, he’d known she wasn’t going to win.

He had tossed and turned most of the night, thinking about what would have happened if he hadn’t stopped by Mick’s.

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