But I’ve been given a single taste, a small tease, so how am I meant to stop wanting more?
Chapter 21
I’m getting whiplash. We’re dancing around each other, pulling too close and then pushing too far.
It’s been four days since his accident, and three since I was chased in the woods. They sent a few deputies from the department to come out and search the woods — thankfully not Oscar because after that last encounter, I can’t handle the awkwardness — but of course they found nothing, and I know nothing more now than I did then.
But I see him watching me. I seehowhe watches me, but I pretend I don’t. I’m sure he’s purposely putting himself in my path too. Just like this morning while I was making coffee, when he came right up to my back to reach over my head for a coffee mug. He was shirtless, still in a pair of sweats since he’s had to limit how much work he can do on theranch while his ribs heal, and his heat had wrapped around me.
“Morning,” He rasped gruffly. “Sleep okay?”
I’d mumbled a reply and scurried away but not before I got a look at the bruising that covered half of his back and wrapped around his side, over his ribs, a mix of purples and blues and yellows.
I’ve only worked a few hours over the past four days too. I’ve made the excuse that it was for Pumpkin, she’s still so little and is rather demanding for a cat that was meant to be somewhat feral, but in reality every time I left, I worried about Roman. It’s not even like he’s alone out here; he has the men who work for him and his brothers. Yet every time I got in my car, I got straight back out, mumbled an excuse as to why I was still here and subtly watched him all day to make sure he didn’t need anything.
“So stupid,” I mutter to myself, my steps a little angry as I come back from the barn.
“Woah,” Remy chuckles from the back of a white and gray horse. “Who are you calling stupid?”
I roll my lips and look up at the youngest Knight brother. “I was talking about myself.”
“Now that’s no way to talk about my sister-in-law,” He tuts, running his fingers over his mustache. “Don’t know if you know, but ‘round here we protect family. I won’t have you badmouthing family.”
A sudden laugh erupts from me, I can’t help it. I grin up at him with a shake of my head. “Clever.”
“That’s my middle name, darlin’,” He winks.
A sudden shrill whistle cuts through the air, and we both turn our heads to the house where Roman isstanding on the porch, his hands wrapped so tightly around the banister, the skin across his knuckles has turned white. The smile on my face drops when I glimpse the hard look on his face. He looks pissed.
“Oop,” Remy clucks his tongue. “Who pissed him off?”
“Don’t look at me,” I defend, “I haven’t even been in the house today.”
“Maybe that’s the problem.” His wide shoulders shrug.
He turns his horse around, leaving me to deal with his brother. Other than the few run-ins and me watching him when he isn’t looking, I have been successful in avoiding him. I don’t want to go and do something stupid again like; I don’t know, climb him like a tree.
He jerks his chin in a request I come to him and then turns and heads back into the house. At least the man is dressed now, I suppose, even if I do miss looking at all that hard, defined muscle.
My steps are a little less angry and more hesitant as I make my way up the few porch steps. I find him in the kitchen, facing the window with his shoulders hiked high and his palms resting on the counter.
“What does he have that I don’t?” The words hit me straight in the chest.
“What?”
“You smiled at him,” He says. “You’ve never smiled at me.”
“That’s not true,” I defend.
“It is,” He sighs, “You’ve smiled, but they’ve never been real. He got a real one.”
“What does that even mean?”
“When you smile, Niamh, you get dimples. Deep little dimples on each side of your mouth. They’re so fucking pretty, but they’re never aimed at me.”
My lips part on a breath, and I watch him turn around, crossing his arms over his wide chest.
It hurts to look at him sometimes, with that face, those eyes and the intensity with which he looks at me. It feels as if he could pull me apart with that look alone, and what’s even scarier is the fact that I want him to.
