Page 37 of Fury
His arms tighten around me, and I feel him press a kiss to the top of my head. "Always, baby girl. Always."
When he finally pulls away, his eyes are suspiciously bright. "Tomorrow. Dinner. Six o'clock sharp."
"We'll be there," I promise as he and Mason head out the door.
The second they're gone, and their bikes roar to life outside, I collapse against the wall in a fit of laughter that makes my ribs ache.
"Oh my God," I gasp between giggles. "Did you see his face? I thought he was going to challenge you to a duel or something."
Greyson watches me with amused bewilderment. "You find your father threatening my life funny?"
"Not that part," I manage, wiping tears from my eyes. "The whole 'president or not' thing, like your patch is supposed to intimidate him. As if Wilder Bennett has ever been intimidated by anyone in his life."
Greyson's lips twitch as he crosses to me, bracing one hand against the wall beside my head. "I notice you're only laughing now that he's gone."
"Self-preservation," I admit, my laughter subsiding into hiccups. "But come on, you have to admit it's a little ridiculous. You've known each other forever. You've been friends with my brothers since you were kids. And suddenly he's acting like you're some stranger who might corrupt his innocent daughter."
"To be fair," Greyson says, his voice dropping to that low register that makes my stomach flip, "I do have some corrupting in mind."
Heat blooms in my cheeks. "Is that so, Mr. Reed?"
"Mmmhmm." He leans closer, his breath warm against my ear. "But not until those bruises heal. Doctor's orders."
I pull back to look at him. "Doctor? What doctor?"
"The one coming by in an hour to check on you," he clarifies, brushing a kiss to my temple. "I called him last night while you were sleeping."
The tenderness in the gesture catches me off guard. "You didn't have to do that."
"Yes, I did." His expression turns serious. "You took a beating yesterday, Livie. I want to make sure nothing's broken or worse than it looks."
I reach up to touch his face, tracing the strong line of his jaw. "Thank you for taking care of me."
His eyes darken as he turns his head to press a kiss to my palm. "Always."
The promise in that single word sends a shiver through me that has nothing to do with pain and everything to do with the future stretching before us—complicated, challenging, but undeniably ours.
"So," I say, changing the subject before I'm tempted to ignore my injuries and drag him upstairs, "what's the plan for today?"
Greyson steps back, giving me space to breathe. "Doctor first. Then rest. Maybe we can watch a movie or something equally non-strenuous."
"Sounds boring," I tease, though the idea of curling up with him on the couch holds more appeal than I want to admit.
"Boring is exactly what the doctor will order," he counters with a grin. "But I'll make it worth your while."
"How?"
He shrugs, eyes twinkling with mischief. "I make a mean chicken soup. And I've been told my back rubs are legendary."
"Is that so?" I arch an eyebrow. "And who exactly told you that?"
"Jealous, Bennett?" He laughs, the sound warming me from the inside out.
"Should I be?"
He closes the distance between us again, his expression suddenly serious. "Not even a little bit." His hand comes up to cup my cheek, thumb tracing my lower lip. "There's no one else, Livie. Hasn't been since the moment I realized it was you."
The simple honesty in his voice steals my breath. "When was that? When did you know?"
