Page 28 of Baja
“Mornin’.”
“Morning,” she whispers back.
“How you feelin’?” I ask, brushing a stray lock from her bruised cheek.
Her hand comes up to rest against my chest. The warmth of her touch sends a jolt straight through me. “Safe,” she says softly, her eyes searching mine like she wasn’t sure she could feel that way.
“As long as there’s breath in my lungs, nobody is touchin’ you again.Ever,” I pledge.
Her smile falters.
“I mean it,” I say, leaning in, my forehead resting against hers. “You’remine, and I’ll tear the world apart to keep you safe.”
Her breath hitches, and I see tears pooling in her eyes. Alice looks away, but I’m not letting her hide from me. Not now.
“Look at me, baby.” I tilt her chin, returning her gaze to mine. “No more runnin’, remember? Talk to me.”
Alice sighs, her shoulders sagging as if the weight of whatever she’s been carrying is finally too heavy. “You shouldn’t want me,” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m olderthan you, Nash. I’ve been through things… things that make me… broken.”
“You think I give a damn about a few years? You think I see you as anything less than the strongest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met?” She blinks at me, stunned into silence, so I press on. “You’ve been hurt, baby. I get that. But you’re not broken. You’re here, aren’t you? You’re in my bed, in my arms. You survived. That’s strength, not weakness.”
Her lip trembles, and she shakes her head. “You don’t understand. My ex, he…” Her voice cracks, and she closes her eyes, forcing herself to go on. “He made me feel like I was nothing. He tore me down piece by piece until I didn’t even recognize myself. And when he wasn’t tearing me down with words, he?—”
The fire in my gut ignites, but I keep my voice calm and steady. “The bastard is dead,” I declare. “He doesn’t get to hurt you ever again.” I lean closer, letting every ounce of conviction seep into my words. “And if you let me, I’ll love you. I’ll remind you every damn day of the powerful woman you are until you finally feel it in your bones.”
Alice locks her gaze on me. I feel her processing my words, watching them burrow into her mind, setting off an internal battle. I witness the flicker of change, the shift inside her—the moment a new crack forms in the fortress she painstakingly constructed around her heart.
“Nash.”
How my name dances on her lips sends a rush through me, like a jolt of electricity. “Say you’remine.”
Alice hesitates, her breath catching, and then she whispers, “I’m yours.”
I pull her closer. “And I’m yours, baby. That’s how this works.”
Her lips part, and I kiss her before I can stop myself. It’s soft at first, tentative, like I’m testing the edges of something fragile. But the second she melts into me, it deepens and becomes raw and consuming. My hand tangles in her hair and her fingers grip my forearm like she’s holding on for dear life. She’s letting me in, dropping more of the wall she built, and it hits me harder than I expect. I’m about to lose myself in her completely when a knock at the door yanks me back to reality like a bucket of ice-cold water.
I groan, my forehead dropping to hers as I bite back a curse. Her breath fans against my lips, quick and uneven. Her frustration is as evident as mine.
“Breakfast is on, brother.” Mystic’s voice filters from the other side of the door, muffled but loud enough to kill the moment.
I close my eyes, exhaling sharply. “Fuck off!” I let out a frustrated growl, irritation bubbling beneath the surface.
There’s a thud—probably a boot against the doorframe—and Mystic adds, “Ma’s famous cinnamon rolls are disappearing fast, brother. She made them specifically with you in mind. Move it or miss out.”
My stomach growls loudly, causing Alice to laugh softly. “Jesus,” I mutter. Alice’s lips twitch into a small smile, the kind that makes my chest tighten in ways I’m not used to. “You hungry?” I ask, brushing my thumb along her jaw, carefully avoiding the bruise darkening her cheekbone. She winces slightly, and it brings everything crashing back to reality.
The bruises, the ribs—what she’s been through.
“Stop,” she says in a harsh tone as if she can read my thoughts.
The flush on her cheeks and the way her lips are still slightly swollen from the kiss are sights I can get used to.
I lean in and hover my mouth over hers.
Another thud hits the door.
“Fuck off!” I shout, followed by fading laughter and heavy footsteps. I shake my head, a low growl rumbling in my chest.
