Page 8 of Rush Turner
“I might have. How old are you?”
“I’m old enough. I’m twenty-seven. How old are you?”
I’m thirty-two.”
“There you go, I’m not too young for you to have the hots for me.”
I watched as her face turned red, and that plump bottom lip went into her mouth. I had to look away my I didn’t want her to see how hard my cock was.
JESSA
I gave up pretending to be brave after twenty minutes of tossing and turning. I couldn’t stop picturing that dark SUV. Couldn’t stop picturing him —my sister's talker— waiting for the right moment to remind me we’d never really be free.
How the hell did we get into this mess? The bastard had already attacked me for hiding the kids. I called the police after my neighbor ran him off. I had a restraining order, but he didn’t pay any attention to it. That’s when I decided I needed to move away and get busy working. Money didn’t grow on trees.Did he find me?
I tiptoed out of the bedroom. Rush didn’t stare at me this time. He just tracked me with that slow, steady gaze as I padded barefoot to the couch, clutching my blanket like a security shield.
I curled up right there — close enough to him that I could hear his breathing over the tick of the old wall clock.
He arched a brow. “What’s this?”
“I can’t sleep in there alone, I keep seeing that black SUV.” I grumbled, hiding my face in the blanket. “If you tell anyone I said that, I’ll deny it.”
“Fair.”
Silence settled — not awkward, but warm. Heavy with something I didn’t want to name.
RUSH
She fell asleep halfway through, threatening me. Her breathing evened out, her hand loose against the couch cushion like she’d been waiting her whole life to finally rest.
I reminded myself not to stare. To concentrate on the window. The street. The threat I knew would come for her sooner or later.
But my eyes kept drifting back. The stubborn curl falling over her cheek. All that beautiful golden hair, and those dark green eyes. The soft hitch in her breath when she dreamed. The way she murmured my name, just once, barely there.
I didn’t move all night. I didn’t dare.
Protect her. That was the mission now—my only mission. Call me crazy, if you want, but I feel like I was put in the right place at the right time so I could save Jessa.
She stirred just before dawn,blinking sleepily at me through tangled hair.
“You didn’t sleep.”
“Didn’t need to.”
She pushed herself up on her elbows, blanket sliding to her lap, revealing a tank top that didterrible thingsto my focus.
“You’re gonna make me coffee, right?” she rasped, half teasing.
I leaned forward, bracing my elbows on my knees, voice low and hoarse from staying silent too long.
“I’ll make you anything you want, sunshine.”
Her breath caught. For a heartbeat, neither of us moved. Then she whispered, “Rush…” like my name was the only safe thing she had left.
I watched her eyes slowly shut, and she went back to sleep. I wanted to pull her into my arms — because holding back around Jessa Monroe was a losing game I’d stopped playing the moment I found her on that road.
7
