A little while later, after I’d ridden him hard, we collapsed onto the bed again. I knew we were done for the night because Ramsay whistled for Akiva. We heard her pads hit the wooden floors before she appeared in the bedroom door. Ramsay’s bed was huge, so it accommodated the large Malamute. She jumped onto the foot of the bed and spread out to go to sleep.
Before Ramsay could roll over to switch off his light, I asked, “What was your life like before you came here?”
There were a million questions I wanted to ask him. About his past. His life. If he’d ever been in love. We’d steered clear of how he knew about Hugh, what he knew about Michelle, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want to know more. To give him the chance to confide whatever information about himself he was happy to share.
Ramsay was silent for a few seconds, and I shifted onto my side, tucking my hands beneath my cheek as I stared at him. Waiting.
He flicked me a look before staring at the bedroom ceiling. “I was in the marines. I moved around a lot.”
“Why did you retire?”
“It’s a young man’s job.”
“You were only thirty-four when you retired, though, right?”
“I was done.”
At his flat, almost snippy response, I sighed internally. “Where did they deploy you?”
“All over.”
My God! Frustration roared through me. It was like we were back at day one when he’d barely string three words together. I kept my frustration to myself. “Did you … did you inherit your books from your birth parents? You mentioned before they were an inheritance.”
His head whipped toward me, cutting me a narrowed-eyed look. “Silver.”
The word held a gentle warning.
Ramsay’s eyes spoke for him too.
The hope that had been building since he’d shown me the dresser turned cold and brittle and crumbled into dust. I clamped my lips shut.
He turned onto his side, giving me his back, and reached out to switch off the light.
As the room descended into darkness, I turned from him, not wanting to see his back in the shadows.
We’re not that, his eyes had said.
Tears burned in mine, and I cursed myself for letting my emotions go there in the first place.
Ramsay was merely escapism.
Yes, the sex was phenomenal.
But it was only sex.
He wasn’t a safe place to land after a couple of years of hell.
He was just … a distraction.
The bed suddenly moved and I tensed, thinking he was going to get up and disappear into his barn like he always did when I tried too hard to get close to him.
It was such a shock, then, when I felt his grip on my hips. He pulled me into the middle of the bed, curling his body around mine. Spooning me. His strong arms held me close, and he leaned in to confess in my ear, “I don’t like to talk about them. My parents. If … I’ll talk about them when I’m ready.”
This time the tears that burned my eyes were from relief. I nodded and whispered, “Okay.”
“You ever want to talk about yours, though … I’m here.”
“Ramsay …” I was confused. So confused. One second we weren’t that and now …
