Page 75 of Make Me Trust Again
Ever since they moved here, I’ve not once seen the light on in the cabin this late.
Shadow brushes against my leg as I just stare at Rose Hathaway sitting on the porch in the darkness. Her legs are curled on the swing; her arms wrapped around her knees.
Did she fall asleep like that?
The position looks uncomfortable as hell. Besides, she shouldn’t be sleeping out on the porch anyway. Sure, we’re secluded out here, but you never know when somebody might stumble out of the woods, animal or person alike.
I curse inwardly at myself as I watch her. I should turn around and continue on my way. Let her be. But for some reason, I can’t look away. I can’t leave her alone. It’s like my feet are glued to the ground. I hold my breath as I just stand there and watch her.
Her head is pressed against her knees, hiding her face from my view.
Maybe she really fell asleep after a?—
Then I see it.
Her shoulders are shaking softly, and although I can’t hear it, I know she’s crying.
My fingers curl into a fist as a surge of anger rises inside me.
What the hell happened to make her cry?
I’m not sure if I made a sound or moved, but suddenly, her head snaps up.
The faint light coming from the kitchen illuminates her face, making the tears streaming down her cheeks shine brightly. She sucks in a breath, those doe-like eyes staring at me. They’re slightly red and puffy. Her lips move, her voice so low it’s barely reaching my ears.
I move closer, my gaze follows the tears running down her cheeks. Clenching my jaw, I focus on those pink lips. “What happened?”
If her ex is bothering her again, there will be no stopping me from making good on my promise. Not like it would be a problem. The guy’s an asshole of epic proportions.
“It’s nothing.”
Nothing, my ass.
“I’m calling bullshit on that one.”
“I’m fine.” Rose shakes her head and looks away, quickly brushing away her tears. “What are?—”
Before I even know what I’m doing, I’m closing the distance between us.
Considering the darkness, her soft voice, and having her face averted, I don’t catch the end of her sentence, although I can see her mouth moving.
I slip my finger under her chin. Her body freezes as I gently turn her toward me, my thumb rubbing over her jaw.
For a moment, time seems to slow down. Her lips part slightly in surprise as a jolt of electricity zaps my fingers. Those blue eyes widen, making me wonder if she can feel it too. This connection sizzling between us. The thread that seems to be pulling us together whenever our paths cross.
“What’s going on, sweetheart?” I ask again, my voice coming out gentler this time.
Once again, the endearment falls off my lips naturally, and I don’t allow myself to overthink it as I wait for her response.
I take her in, trying to see if she’s hurt in some way, which is the wrong thing to do because, for the first time since I got here, I actually look at her.
Her hair is loose around her shoulders, falling in soft waves. She took off her makeup, which makes her seem younger somehow, more vulnerable. Her cheeks are flushed, the soft rise and fall of her chest making the silky material of the sorry excuse for her shirt move, the light color shining in the darkness with each intake of breath. She lets her legs fall to the ground. The matching shorts are so damn small that they show off those long, tanned legs.
Stop staring at her legs, Williams.
It takes everything in me to return my gaze to her face and force my fingers on her chin to stay relaxed.
“You’re crying, so don’t you dare tell me you’re fine. Is everything okay? You’re not hurt?”
