Page 52 of Trusting Skulls

“Jesse has a pair of hiking boots by the door. They’re your size too.”

“Um.”How does he know my size?“I guess I could try them.”

He takes the rinsed plate from my hand and dries it with a dishcloth. “We should go just before sunrise.”

“I don’t have an alarm. No phone, remember?” I doubt that it will get me out of this. The thought of anything remotely close to exercise sounds awful. Well, other than swimming. I do love to swim.

“Oh, shit. I bought you a new one.”

He leaves my side, and I turn to watch him search the cabin.

“I left it on the doorstep this morning. I’m sure Dirk set it in here somewhere.”

When he finds it, he holds it over his head triumphantly. He opens the box as he walks toward me. “I’ve already set it with everyone’s numbers.” Ash lays it down beside me on the counter. “It’s even waterproof. Equipped with a compass and a calculator.”

As he continues telling me all the phone’s features, I stare at him. This is so easy for him. How does he manage to ignore all of the ugly things about me? He doesn’t mention the reason I need a new phone in the first place, that Dirk stomped on it to cut my ties with the dark world I was so willingly living in. He’s relaxed and calm.

A boyish smile pulls the corner of his mouth up, distracting me.

He’s stopped talking.

Oh, he’s stopped talking!Why am I still staring at him?

I rip my gaze from his face, spinning around to go back to the table for more dishes. Jesus, he flusters me.

My eyes scan the windows, hoping Brody and Daisy get back soon. They catch on the painting in the corner of the room.

Ash’s warm hand presses against the small of my back. “Go take a look. I’ll finish.”

I rush across the room, excited yet terrified to see how a stranger sees me. Someone who hasn’t been witness to the destruction I’ve caused myself over the years.

My feet stop short when I get close enough to make out the darkness that surrounds Ash and me. Demons that are not just mine. Some belong to Ash. How do I know this? I have no idea. There’s nothing in the black smudge of paint that differentiates them.

It’s amazing. I’ve never been so moved by a piece of art, and I don’t think it’s just because I’m the centerpiece. “Wow.”

Ash slides his arms around my waist, startling me. I jerk away, but he holds me tight against him, resting his palm between my breasts.

“Shh,” he whispers against the shell of my ear. “Let me hold you.”

I’m stiff in his arms, but like always, he’s patient with me.

“I love this painting so hard,” he admits, giving me a gentle squeeze.

The woman in the painting is relaxed in her man’s embrace despite the darkness that lurks around every corner. It’s almost as if there is a protective barrier around them. That is exactly how it feels when I’m with him. Like there is this invisible bubble that forms whenever we’re together.

It feels so good, I’m afraid of losing it.

“Do you see how the sun lights over your hair? It’s incredible. The contrast of light and dark. I think we’ve been given a gift to have our portrait painted by her. She’s very talented.”

“Wow,” I say again, laughing slightly. “I can’t find any other word but wow.”

He laughs too, and that’s the combination that unlocks my muscles and allows me to relax against him. My mind wanders back to the moment frozen in time in the painting.

“She looks safe in your arms,” I whisper.

His warm lips press against my temple. “It’s one place she’ll always be safe.”

Chapter Twenty

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