Page 1 of Beneath the Scars
Chapter 1
Michael
I’m not looking for her. I’m simply seeing who made it to the family barbecue and who didn’t.
Although she should be at this one—she graduated from vet school last weekend. I figured she’d be home by now.
So where is she?
Nope.
Not thinking about her. I don’t care what she’s doing.
“You okay?” Ryan asks, handing me a beer. I normally only let myself have one. Having bio parents who were addicted to everything possible, I refuse to risk falling into the same trap.
Ryan’s light brown hair is a mess on top of his head like usual, but his smile is wider than I’ve seen it in a while.
“Fine.”
He gives me a look that says he knows I’m full of shit. Thankfully, he doesn’t push. He’s gotten pretty good at reading when he can get away with forcing me to talk. Tonight is not one of those nights.
I’m restless.
My skin is crawling with the need to do something.
Anything.
I might take my bike out tonight. I don’t ride it a lot. Being a police officer, I’ve seen my fair share of motorcycle accidents. But when I start to itch with impatience, I’ll ride around for an hour to help ease the restlessness.
“Did you hold baby Nina yet?” Ryan’s voice cuts through my straying thoughts.
I look across the room, where our best friends, Carson and Ginny, are snuggling with their baby girl. Our other best friends, Lottie and Gia, are standing with them, mooning over the tiny thing. The last I heard, they were waffling over a couple of different names. It shouldn’t surprise me that they went with the name Ginny loved the most. Carson would walk over hot coals to give her whatever she wanted.
“Not yet. I’m not sure I’m cut out to hold a newborn.”
Ryan gets a soft look in his eye as he stares at the couple. “They’re not so bad. It’s sort of like holding a potato.”
I snort. “Interesting comparison.”
“Shut up. I just meant that they don’t really do anything other than sleep.”
“I’ll probably wait until she’s a little sturdier.” Maybe. I have a hard time with people touching me and touching them in return. I’m not sure how I would react to holding a baby, and I don’t really want to risk it. Over the years, touching others has gotten easier, but it still makes my skin crawl when I’m not ready for it. Even when I am, it makes me uncomfortable.
This family is a bunch of huggers, so I didn’t have much choice but to get used to it. Although that’s not entirely fair. They’re always careful not to touch me unless I initiate the contact. And I try to do it when I can. I don’t like seeing their understanding faces when I’m not up for a hug.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out, expecting to see dispatch trying to get in touch with me. I’malways on call, since I don’t have a wife or kids or anything. I don’t want the other deputies in town to give up their family time when I’m capable of taking the call instead.
My stomach flips when I read the caller ID. I walk up the stairs of Lottie’s parents’ basement to find a quiet place to talk.
“Adalaide.”
“God, just listening to you say my name makes me hot.”
I frown. “What?”
“There’s something about your deep, sexy voice that gets me every time.”
“Are you drunk?”
