But so did my best friend. The other man had all but stopped breathing. He watched her the entire night. I know because I did, too. But I realized in that moment that he was as in love with her as I was.
Pissed me right off initially. Of all the women in Jefferson, why her? But the annoyance became less and less as time went by. It vanished entirely when Bron got his hands on her. Lachlan having her would have been preferable to that rancid pile of trash touching her.
Now, I learned my lesson. I lost her once to the wrong guy because I let Jefferson dictate my feelings for her. I’m not letting them take her from me again. If that means sharing her with Lachlan ... I don’t hate that idea. I don’t love it, but if I have to share her, I’d rather it be him.
If he’d just get his head out of Jefferson’s ass.
“I’m hungry,” I decide, not entirely a lie.
I haven’t eaten and it’s so late in the afternoon.
I woke up this morning and reached for the soft warmth I’d been snuggled into all night to find her gone. The Everly-sized space between me and Lachlan jerked me straight out of the dream I’d been having of me and Everly in a remote home deep in the woods. Splayed across a picnic blanket with her knees around my head. I woke up needing to taste her only to find her place empty.
I don’t think I’ve ever been so panicked and infuriated in my life. I even rolled off the bed and went searching for her in case she was in the bathroom or in the kitchen.
That is a feeling I refuse to experience again. Everly stays in my bed, in my arms. I don’t give a shit about anything else.
“I can ask Bryan to drive me back if you want to go eat—”
“No!” Lachlan and I snap in unison; Lachlan’s right, that little turd stain needs to stay the hell away from her.
She blinks, startled. “It’s not necessary to drive me all the way home and then—”
“You’re coming with us,” I cut in, taking a step towards her. Just one because I do not trust myself any closer. “After your disappearing act this morning, you’re not leaving my sight.”
Her pouty little mouth parts, then thins to match the furrow of her brows. “You can’t stay with me all the time.”
She has no idea how wrong she is. I will handcuff myself to her if necessary. But baby steps. Don’t want to scare her until after I have her tied to my bed.
“Van’s right.” Lach shifts like he’s bracing himself. His hands plant on his hips in the most defensive pose I’ve ever seen on the man. “We should get food.”
She nibbles on her bottom lip, a hesitant gesture I get. Her gaze darts to the truck then somewhere past it in the direction of the path leading out.
I’m wondering if she’s thinking about running. If she thinks she can make it before I catch her, but she relents — much to my disappointment — and nods.
“Breakfast sounds nice,” she murmurs.
Is it a win? Maybe. It can definitely be considered one, I think, but I don’t gloat because I’m bigger than that.
Instead, I move to the passenger’s side of the truck and yank it open for her. I don’t miss her reluctance, but she moves forward and past me. Her shoulder brushes my chest as she reaches for the handlebars to hoist herself up, but my hands are already at her waist. Holding her. Pulling her until her back is at my chest.
Her face tips up, surprise and something unmistakable in her eyes when they meet mine. “Van?”
I love the sound of my name on her tongue. I love hearing it moaned as she’s breaking, her walls rippling around my fingers.
My hold reflexively tightens. My fingers press a little too hard.
I hear her breath catch in her chest. A beautiful sound of need I feel to my cock. Beneath my palms, her ribs expand, mirroring the tremor in her spine, melting in my hold.
She’s not fighting, though I can see it in the anxious nibbling of her teeth at her lip. She’s not running, but I know she wants to. It’s all a tangled mess of desire coming hot off her skin.
I lean in. Not for a kiss but still grin a little inside when her lips part willingly.
“Still love us, baby?”
Her sharp, shaky inhale snags in my chest. Soft pink colors her cheeks, highlighting the yearning in her gaze.
“Yes,” she whispers so low it’s no more than just a movement of her lips.