Page 37 of The Cold Ride

“You don’t have to keep on feeding me.” It rubbed me wrong that she was taking care of me this way. When it should be the reverse. I should be taking care of my girls.

My girls?

Jesus, we get naked once and have sex, and suddenly I turn into a girl painting hearts and roses around our names.

But it felt right. That’s what it felt like they were—my girls.

She held up a hand, stopping me. “James, think about it as payment for helping me with the inn. So I’ll ask again, any requests?”

“My mom always used to make meatloaf with peas and those tiny onions and mashed potatoes. It’s a meal I haven’t had in forever and would love more than anything to eat, but I can’t get to Tennessee during this leave.”

“Done. It might not be exact, but we’ll have it this week. I’m going to leave my list here on the table. If there’s anything else you think of that you want, just write it down, and I can pick it up.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” I wasn’t expecting to come here and be moved. I figured it would be pure, unadulterated torture. And it was, but only in the best way imaginable. Because Rory and Amelia had put their grappling hooks in me. The longer I was here, the less I wanted to go back.

Perhaps Wyatt was right. And I was being an idiot when it came to holding on to the past and my anger.

“Well, I’ll say goodnight.” The chair scraped against the tile floor as she stood.

“Are we going to talk about today?” I blurted. Jesus, I really had turned into the woman in this equation.

“What do you want me to say?” She looked at me without any walls. And her honesty almost did me in. “I’m not sorry it happened, James. But I don’t know where we go from here. And I know I initiated things, but we have to be careful. There’s a little girl down the hall who thinks you could lasso the moon. I don’t want anything we do to spoil the relationship you have with her.”

I opened my mouth to argue that it wouldn’t, but she cut me off.

“We can say it won’t cause issues down the line. We can make promises and agree to be civil no matter the outcome. But we need to be careful.”

“So then, you don’t want me to come to your room tonight?” I didn’t know whether I wanted her to say yes or no. Because a part of me wanted both options.

She blushed, her cheeks turning a becoming shade of pink. “I didn’t say that. Just that we need to be careful.”

“Noted.” I closed the distance and trapped her body against the kitchen table. My anger still simmered under the surface. But it had been overtaken by the startling amount of need I had for Rory. Although desire had never been lacking between us—honesty had been.

“I need to know if I’m trespassing on another man’s territory.” It was a bone of contention for me and likely always would be.

She scowled. “No. Do you really think I would—”

I cut her off with my lips. I hated that I had to ask. But I’d been burned before, believing she was a free agent when she hadn’t been. And I couldn’t start up with her again if she had another man waiting in the wings. I’d barely survived it the first time.

She moaned, then wrapped her arms around my neck. I growled and closed the distance. This woman did something to me, more than any other. Because one taste of her wasn’t enough. This afternoon had only whetted my appetite. From the moment we met, she’d emblazoned herself across my soul. And holding her in my arms again, it felt like a puzzle piece I’d been missing finally clicked back into place.

And all the horrors I’d lived through. All the firefights and raids, all the classified missions in remote locations, all slipped away. Holding her revived the soul I figured eighteen years of duty had stomped into dust.

I lifted my mouth long enough to ask, “My room or yours?”

“Yours.” And then she kissed me before I could respond. But words were no longer necessary. This was what we excelled at. Over the past decade, I’d done everything within my power to expunge the memory of her.

I spent months drinking far more than was wise. I tried fucking her out, cutting a swath through the ladies in Norfolk that had even made Evan jealous for a time. But nothing had made her go away. And I tried my damnedest. And it all failed. Because in a single night, she had wiggled her way into my fucking soul.

And I didn’t know if being with her again was the right thing to do. In that sliver of my soul she’d resurrected, I wanted it to be right. I wanted this to be my place for good.

But she was right in that we had Amelia to think about this go around. And I didn’t want to damage our relationship in its infancy. But there was no turning from Rory. Now that we’d ripped the bandage off, there was no stopping it. It was like trying to refold sheets and put them back in their original packaging. It couldn’t be done. At least not well and without a lot of wrinkles and cursing.

Holding her prisoner in my arms, I walked us toward my room, unwilling to lift my lips for a second. Because if all we would have were stolen moments, I didn’t want to waste any of them.

Ushering her into my bedroom, I flipped the light on. Then she surprised me by tearing her mouth from mine and shoving me toward the bed. “Clothes off, sailor.”

“You first.” She was the sexiest woman I’d ever known.

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