“Yeah,” he murmured.“Lead the way.”
Tessa’s room was small, warm, and smelled faintly of vanilla and laundry soap.A blanket draped over the foot of the bed, a half-read book on the nightstand, a cardigan tossed on the chair.She had made it her own.
It was her.Soft, gentle Tessa.A world apart from the concrete and steel of the clubhouse.She stepped inside and turned to him, closing the door behind them with a quiet click.
That sound went straight through him.
Tessa stood with her back to the door, twisting her fingers lightly in front of her.She was nervous, or maybe she was thinking.Brick wasn’t sure.He only knew he couldn’t pull his eyes off her.
Her lips parted.“I wanted to say thank you for today.For stepping in.For being there when I needed someone.”
Her voice wavered.
Brick’s heart did, too.
“You don’t owe me thanks,” he said.“I was just—”
“Protecting me,” she finished softly.“Yeah.You were.”
And damn it, that word stirred something in him he couldn’t shove back down.
He took a slow step toward her.“I told you I’d keep you safe.”
“I know,” she whispered.“I believe you.”
She looked up at him with wide, dark eyes.Brick’s pulse thudded in his neck.
“Tessa,” he warned.
Though he wasn’t sure who he was warning anymore.Was it her, himself, his whole damn sanity?
She lifted a hand and brushed her fingers lightly against the front of his cut.The touch was soft, barely there, but it felt like fire.
“I’m not scared when I’m with you,” she murmured.“Even today when that biker came at me, I wasn’t alone.You showed up.You always show up.”
“Damn right I do.”His voice came out low and rough.
Tessa swallowed, her gaze dropping to his mouth before flicking back up.“Brick...”
He shouldn’t have been standing this close, and he shouldn’t put his hands near her waist.
Brick also shouldn’t have breathed her in like she was the cleanest air he’d ever known, but he did.When she took one small step forward, closing the last bit of space between them, Brick’s restraint snapped tight.It was one second from breaking.
“Are you staying?”she whispered.
She wasn’t asking out of fear, uncertainty or politeness.Tessa was asking because she wanted him there, wanted him as much as he desired her.Brick raised his hand, using his fingers to brush along her jaw.Her skin was so soft it nearly undid him.
“I shouldn’t,” he said, but his voice held no conviction.
Her lips tilted in a small, heartbreakingly hopeful smile.“Maybe I want you to.”
Brick sucked in a breath like he’d been punched.
Tessa leaned her forehead against his chest, resting her palms lightly on his abdomen.Brick’s body went rigid, then molten.He curled his hands around her hips, not pulling her closer but not letting her go either.
“Look at me,” he murmured.
She did, slowly and trustingly.Brick felt something crack open inside him.
