The thought of losing him sparked a pain I never wanted to feel again. I’d come near enough that night in the graveyard, and it had terrified me. Care wasn’t a strong enough word.
I tipped his chin up and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’m not sure how I’d keep going without you,” I said.
He swallowed hard and stared at me with wide, guileless eyes. “You kissed me anyway. Even though I wasn't good.”
I chuckled and leaned our foreheads together. “I always want to kiss you, Pen. I’ll take any excuse to.”
He surged forward and pulled himself into my lap, then crushed his mouth against mine. It was the closeness I’d been craving since we returned to Ashpoint, the intimacy that had been thwarted by arguments and frustration and interruptions I’d had quite enough of. I missed the easy affections and constant contact we’d had on the road. If it weren’t for Merrick, maybe I wouldn’t be so hesitant to let us have that here, too.
But I was done thinking about the Shroud Warden. There were better things to focus on at the moment.
My hands slid up Penny’s thighs to settle on his hips as I leaned into the kiss. He melted against me, the tension of the evening easing as comfort took its place. His mouth was insistent, but it didn’t have the same heat as that night on the floor at the inn. This felt different, like it was about connecting and not a desire to take things further.
It was a bit of a relief, considering our last few slightly more intimate encounters had left me feeling overwhelmed. Penny was free with his feelings and so willing to act on them, but I wasn’t used to having anyone else’s hands on me, though I was trying. I’d already given him more of me than I had ever given anyone else. The thought of surrendering that last piece and opening up completely scared me.
Penny had scared me at Merrick’s, too. Seeing him like that sparked memories of the way my father changed bit by bit. His flares of anger had grown into violent infernos that consumed him and burned whoever happened to be around. I didn’t want to find similarities in them because Penny wasn’t my father. He wasn’t that kind of man, I was sure of it.
He clung to me with a desperation I recognized. It was the same as in the graveyard when he admitted how frightened he was so far from home. It was the same as at the mission when he begged me not to leave him.
He was afraid. We both were. The difference was, I handled my fear by getting smaller, and he handled his by making himself too big to hurt. Neither approach actually worked.
Penny’s hands slid under my shirt, and he dug his fingers into my back. I understood now what he needed, what we both did, and I let that contact ground me.
I shifted my grip to hook an arm around his waist and pull him closer while I tangled my other hand in his hair.
Getting lost in him was peaceful. For a while, I could forget where we were and the danger that was coming and just exist in the moment. Relish his warmth and the way his hands skimmed over the planes of my back, touching me gently, almost reverently. For a few seconds, I allowedmyself to imagine what it might be like to have this for the rest of my life.
I chased Penny’s lips when he pulled back, not ready for it to be over. But his hands went, too, and curled around the hem of his shirt. I caught them before he could pull the garment away. His eyes—still hazy from the alcohol—met mine, and I gave him one last kiss.
“Not this time.” I eased him out of my lap and onto the cushion beside me. “You need to get something in your stomach besides wine, or you’ll hate yourself in the morning.”
He sighed and sagged against my shoulder. “Okay.”
It was a stretch to reach the plate and mug from the coffee table without unsettling him, but I managed and handed him the water first. He guzzled it down before taking the slice of bread and cheese I offered next.
We ate in companionable quiet until all that remained was a piece of crust that Penny fiddled with in his lap. He seemed to know what was coming, even though I was sure all we both wanted was to curl up together and not worry about anything else until morning.
But, since he was settled, there were things I needed to address beforeIcould settle.
“You know, you don’t need to act like Merrick to beat him,” I said.
Penny tossed the crust onto the plate so he could wind his arms around himself. He looked simultaneously ashamed and defeated.
“Men like Merrick, men like my father, thrive on getting you off-balance and worn down enough that you don’t see any other solution but to resort to the same methods you’re railing against. All it does is fuel their fire and give them more power over you. And you’re not likethem, Pen. You can’t sustain their levels of vitriol without it hurting you too.”
He sniffled and squeezed himself tighter. “I’m sorry I scared you. I don’t ever want to scare you.” His teary eyes met mine sidelong. “Do you… Do you still fancy me?”
“Of course I do.” I sat back into the corner of the couch and pulled him with me so we could recline chest to chest. His arms crept around my waist when I pulled the blanket off the back cushions and wrapped him up.
Ultimately, I knew some of what he was going through. In the last few months, Penny had lost almost everything in his life. Not all of it was permanent, but what he had left was inaccessible. I’d felt that, too, more than once in my life. It had been lonely and terrifying to face down a whole new world without anyone around who understood. Back then, I’d wished Levitt had been there. Now, I could be for Penny what Levitt had never been for me: a link to his old life and a reminder that not all the good things were gone.
“I know you’re trying to protect me, to protect us,” I murmured against his hair. “So am I. We’re trying to keep each other safe, but our methods are at odds. We need to get better at talking about these things so we’re not working against each other all the time.” I chuckled softly. “And I hate it when we fight.”
He pulled back and propped himself up on his hands. “Iamtrying to protect you. Iwantto. And Merrick should bemyproblem, not yours. I know your father put you through awful things. That doesn’t mean you need to take them from my brother, too. I won’t let him treat you that way.”
“Your problemsaremy problems.” I moved to brush the hair back from his face, but he ducked out of reach.
“Not this one.” He shook his head, further unsettling his blond locks. “He was my problem long before I got here.”
