It’s a great way to be greeted.
So much better than coming home to an empty cabin.
“Hey, buddy.” I scratch between his ears. “Did you have a good day?”
“I did…”
I glance up at Lucky where she leans against one of the hand-hewn beams that supports the loft above the kitchen. Her gray t-shirt hangs off her shoulder, exposing her collarbone and the fact that she’s not wearing a bra. Casual. Relaxed. She looks happy. “How was yours?”
A lot fucking better now…
Allowing my gaze to rake over her further, I imagine a million ways I would love to spend tonight with her—most of them involving my head between her legs or my cock buried inside her.
I want to keep that contented look on her face, allow her to stay so relaxed, but this reprieve is only temporary, knowing what I have to do.
Even before talking with Killian and Connor, I knew. I just didn’t want to accept it because the fallout may be something I can’t fix.
Lucky isn’t a woman you push unless you want to get pushed back. And pushing her could make her grab her backpack and this little dog and hit the road again.
That isn’t an option.
But neither is ignoring what happened this morning and pretending it didn’t change everything.
I set Gizmo down and release a heavy sigh, reaching down to take off my boots and set them beside her shoes near the door. “Honestly?”
She raises a brow, concern suddenly darkening her eyes. “Of course.”
A little humorless laugh falls from my lips. “It was kind of shitty.”
“How come?”
I make my way past the couch, forcing myself not to glance down to the end table where the gun sat until Connor came and took it away before we left to drive up the mountain, and stop in front of her, allowing my eyes to roam over her.
She appears calm, not at all the same woman who was holding a gun on Connor this morning or trembling uncontrollably in my arms on Killian’s porch. So, apparently sending her off to work with Willow this morning was a good idea, despite my reservations about it.
“I’d really rather not talk about it.”
None of that matters.
My fears, my struggles, my nightmares are mine to deal with.
What does matter is finding out why she’s so scared so I can do everything in my power to make sure it never touches her.
She nods slowly, chewing on her bottom lip, almost as if she’s trying to force herself not to ask more questions even though she clearly wants to.
“Something in here smells good.”
Definitely her, but whatever she’s cooking, too.
Lucky glances over her shoulder, and her cheeks redden slightly. “So, you don’t know me well enough to know this yet, but I’m not any better at being in the kitchen than I am taking orders and delivering them.”
I grin at her and how fucking adorable she is when she’s shy and embarrassed. “I’m pretty hopeless myself, which is why we eat at Killian’s most of the time. Willow’s a pretty good cook.”
She nods. “I figured that after breakfast.”
“What are you making?”
“Grilled cheese and tomato soup.”
