Page 48 of Corey
She could eat breakfast for dinner with Corey every day for the rest of her life, and she’d be perfectly happy.
The sun had set, the animals had been fed, and now she stared at the man across from her who seemed too good to be true. He treated her with a kindness that made her want more. But they’d made no promises to each other. Despite that, he’d listened to her open up and share her trauma. And a part of her had healed because of it. Because of him.
She wanted to do the same for him—hoped she could, anyway—but first he had to trust her. Maybe he wasn’t comfortable enough yet, or maybe he didn’t feel what she was feeling. God, she hoped that wasn’t the case. Because if it was, she’d most likely be leaving Cielo Springs with a broken heart.
“You okay?” he asked, lowering his fork full of scrambled eggs.
Warmth suffused her heart. She’d never met a man as sweetly concerned as Corey. He was a provider and a protector, but also completely in tune with her, picking up on her emotionswith ease. She appreciated how much he seemed to care, and she wanted him to know she was there for him, too. Especially if he wanted to confide in her.
Nodding slowly, a smile curved her mouth. “Just thinking…”
“About what?”
God, that was a loaded question.A future with you?her heart whispered.
“About everything.”
The amazing, utterly mind-blowing sex. The way talking to him had been a balm to her soul. The way he held her and kissed her and made sure she was safe and always taken care of. And, of course, the way he and his team had flown to San Diego and found proof to take down Joel so he wouldn’t ever bother her again.
Her mind was on overload.
“I owe you,” she whispered. “You’ve helped me in so many ways and—”
“You don’t owe me anything.” He reached over and laid his big hand on hers. “Please, don’t think I’m looking for some kind of payment.”
“No, I know that. I guess what I mean is…” She swallowed hard, turning her hand and lacing her fingers through his. “If you ever want to talk about your past, I’m here for you.”
When he pulled his hand away, her heart fell.
“Thanks.” He said the word so quietly, she barely heard it. Then he picked up his fork and began eating.
And she wondered if she’d just messed up.
???
At the mention of telling her about his past, Corey shut down fast. He didn’t want to talk about it. For the first time in twenty years, he’d been feeling really fucking good. Almost like he might be able to reclaim his life and start living again. Maybe even find happiness. But bringing up the past would only put a damper on that.
There was no escaping the truth—his bad call had resulted in the death of Cassidy and two of his SEAL brothers. No matter how much he wanted to let the guilt go and move on, the heaviness of failure was his alone to bear. He’d fucked up and it was a burden he’d carry to his grave and beyond.
Not even amazing sex with an amazing woman could change that. Yes, he wanted more with Sera. So much more. But the idea of telling her how he’d screwed up made him lose his appetite. What if she didn’t look at him the same? What if she viewed him the way he saw himself? He couldn’t bear to see that kind of disappointment in her pretty eyes.
Bury it,he ordered himself. Now wasn’t the time to spill his guts and turn into an emotional basketcase.
“Sometimes, I still get triggered,” Sera said softly, and his head jerked up. “Loud noises…guns…dark, small spaces…feeling trapped.”
He hated knowing that. Would give anything to change it.
“You didn’t deserve what happened to you,” he gritted out.
“I think the guilt is the worst, though. Why did I live when so many others died? People who had husbands, wives, children. I had nobody. Not really.” Her voice caught and he scowled, hating the fucker who’d inflicted so much trauma on her andothers. “Guilt is like quicksand, always trying to pull you under and filling every crevice. Trying to suffocate you.”
Pushing his plate away, Corey stood, his chair scraping back. He rounded the table and held his hands out. “C’mere, sweetheart.”
She placed her hands in his, and he swept her onto her feet and into his arms, carrying her over to the couch. Sitting down, holding her on his lap, he pressed a kiss to her head. “I won’t let anyone hurt you like that again. I’ll protect you until my last breath.”
Then, against his better judgment, he added, “I promise.”
His last promise had ended in bloodshed and death, and he hadn’t made a promise to anyone in over twenty years. The possibility of not being able to live up to his word again made his heart twist.
