My skepticism isn’t lost on him and his eyes narrow. “Don’t.” His voice is firm, telling me I’m entering dangerous territory. “Don’t do that. Don’t think I’m gonna bail every time the road gets rough. Don’t think you’re not good enough for me or some bullshit like that.”
Georgia arrives with our burgers and fries and sets the plates down on the table. “Need anything else?”
“We’re alright, Georgia, thank you.” I nod and pretend I don’t feel the irritation coming from the other side of the table.
He waits for her to move out of earshot before speaking again. “Look at me.” My eyes meet his and he continues. “You matter. You understand? You’re more than enough. I don’t know how many times I gotta tell you that before you believe me.”
“I was almost married once.” It feels safer to change the subject than acknowledge what he’s saying. I start eating to avoid the emotions he’s drawing out of me. “He cheated on me. I didn’t know the girl, but he did get her pregnant. Luckily, we had only set the date so I didn’t have to cancel venues or lose any deposits. I was twenty-three.”
Griffin schools his face into that familiar controlled mask of neutrality. But I can tell what I said pissed him off. “Who was it?” He tries to sound nonchalant. “Just so I can find the asshole and punch him in the dick.”
I let out a surprised laugh. “That was twelve years ago, Griffin. I’m sure life has already punched him in the dick a few times by now.” I shake my head and continue eating.
“Anyway, five years later after a ton of failed dates and no one really hanging around for more than a few weeks, I met a guy. He looked amazing on paper. He was charismatic, had a good job, owned his own home, but he wore two faces. The one he showed the world and the one he saved for me when we were alone. The one he saved for me eventually put me in the hospital with a broken arm and a busted jaw. My parents decided that was enough. I moved in with them after that. It was two years before their accident.”
Griffin’s grip on his fork tightens with enough force to bend the metal. He sets it down and takes a deep breath, the rage in him barely contained. “You tell me who that bastard was.” His voice drops lethally quiet. “And I’ll make sure he never breathes easy again.” He gets it back under control and straightens up in his seat. “But you’re right about one thing. Life did punch the first guy in the dick. ‘Cause I’m here now.”
This line of conversation could end up with someone hurt, so I change the subject. “So will you be going back to the cabin tonight?” He agreed we’d take it slow. Regardless, I really want him to say no. I like sleeping next to him way more than I should.
“Only if you’re kickin’ me out,” he drawls. “Otherwise, figured I’d stick around. Make sure the new security system works. Test out those fancy deadbolts.” He leans in. “Maybe, see if your bed’s as comfortable as mine.” Then he pops a fry in his mouth with a shrug like he didn’t set my entire nervous system on fire.
I almost choke on my burger. The idea of him in my bed makes my body respond and my face flush. “Stay as long as you want,” I breathe out.
He arches a brow at my reaction and smirks when he figures out what caused it. He leans back, arm slung over the back of his booth. “Good to know,” he responds smugly and takes another bite of his burger.
~ Griffin Colson ~
ON THE WAY BACK TOthe jeep, I shoot off a text to Jax, telling him to dig up everything he can on her exes. She may not have wanted to give me their names, but that’s not going to stop me. We had already assumed from the medical records that it was domestic. But having her confirm it felt like I swallowed a hot fucking poker. My palms itch with the need to make him regret ever touching her. It doesn’t matter that it happened years before we met. Any amount of her pain should be paid back tenfold. And these shitheads are walking free after making her feel like she doesn’t matter. They left her wounded to the point she doesn’t believe she deserves happiness. That somehow her size makes her less of a person. I will fix that. And I will make them suffer for it.
Her mood shifts on the stairs before we make it into the loft. Today took so much out of her. She had to face things that anyone would struggle with but she did it with grace. She didn’t break down once. She got quiet, more reserved. The fire in her dulls a little when she’s actively trying not to think about it. She received good news today but it isn’t over until she gets the lastof the results. And even then she will have scars you can’t see. I plan to stand by her no matter how much time she needs.
She pauses near the door, lost in thought. Toeing off my boots and coming up behind her, I slide my hands on her shoulders, massaging lightly.
“Hey.” I press a soft kiss to her temple. “You’re okay. You’re clean. That’s what matters right now.”
I wonder briefly if I should tell her I get tested every three months like clockwork because of the amount of blood I come in contact with in my line of work.
I turn her to face me. “Want me to run you a bath? Or we could crash on the couch and watch somethin’ stupid until you forget today even happened.”
“I don’t know,” her response is empty.
I’m right in her face but she’s not focused on me. She’s buried under the weight of the day, the mental and emotional exhaustion. I bend down and scoop her up bridal-style and walk to the bathroom.
“Both it is,” I mutter. “We’ll use whatever fancy shit you’ve got in here that smells like rain or vanilla or whatever.” I nudge the door open with my foot.
“Shit! Griffin! You have to stop picking me up! I can walk. You’re going to hurt yourself!” She clings to my shoulders, afraid I’ll drop her.
I scoff, not even winded and adjust my grip, carrying her with ease. “Wildflower, I’ve hauled unconscious men twice your size over my shoulder through active warzones.” I sit her down on the counter beside the sink, flicking her playfully on the nose. “You’re fine,” I reassure her and turn on the faucet.
“Sometimes I worry about your eyesight. That you miss what the rest of the world sees when they look at me.” Steam is already fogging the mirror behind her.
She’s referencing her weight again, and I stop mid-motion, my hand under the running water, checking the temperature. I shut it off with a sharp twist and turn back to her. I’m angry, not at her, but at whoever fucking taught her that she’s not perfect the way she is.
“The rest of the world?” I step closer, caging her between my arms. “Let me tell you what I see when I look at you.” I run my hand over her hip, tracing my fingertips over the offending softness she thinks I should hate. “I see a body I want to spend years mappin’ with my hands.” I move up to her waist. “One that fits against mine like we were made for each other.” I flatten my palm over her stomach, warm and possessive. “And a woman who damn near broke me just by existin’.”
My eyes burn into hers, unshakable and raw. “So no. My eyesight’s fine. It’s everyone else who’s blind.”
I capture her mouth in a kiss, gentle, careful. She leans into it and I deepen it. My fingers slip under her shirt, caressing supple skin. I only let up to come up for air, my forehead pressing against hers.
