I huffed out an irritated breath. “Cock. But only because there are other pastries.”
Aimee burst out laughing and stole another bite of my donut. “You guys are off again today? When do you guys have another shift?” I looked at Troy, heart sinking. We’d have to leave her alone for 24 hours, when that asshole stalker was still out there, probably boxing up something worse than snakes.
“Tomorrow,” Troy said. “We need to leave a little before seven.” “Stop looking so worried, guys. I’ll be fine! And if I feel unsafe, I can just let myself into your place. Look after the kittens, right?” Aimee’s voice was a bit too high-pitched to be as casual as she was trying to sound.
“Right,” I said slowly, already mentally calculating whether I could get away with taking a personal day.
Chapter 16
Aimee
Rhettcheckedthelockon the living room window for what had to be the tenth time, rattling the latch like it might have come loose in the thirty seconds since he’d last touched it.“It’s still locked,” I said from the couch, where I was setting up my new phone. “Same as it was when we got back from picking up my laptop from the police station.”
“Just being thorough.”
“You’ve been thorough with that window all day. I think it knows you care.”He groaned and tugged on his hair, which was already sticking up every which way. “Troy was worried I wasn’t taking the threat seriously, so he showed me a video of snakes slithering through small gaps before leaving.”“Snakes? I think you mean danger pasta.”Rhett laughed. “Or nope ropes.” He crossed the room and dropped onto the couch beside me,close enough that his thigh pressed against mine. “Speaking of bedtime—”“Were we speaking of bedtime?”“We are now.” He stretched his arm along the back of the couch behind me, not quite touching my shoulders. “You going to sleep in Troy’s bed again tonight?”The question landed heavier than his casual tone suggested. Last night, I’d insisted on sleeping alone, and it had gone about as well as expected—which was to say, not at all. I’d spent hours staring at the ceiling, jumping at every creak, seeing snakes in every shadow. By the time I’d drifted off, it was nearly dawn.I must have looked like death warmed over when I stumbled into the kitchen at an ungodly hour to catch them before they left for work, because Rhett had taken one look at me and informed me he was taking a personal day. Troy had objected, arguing that personal days were hard to come by at the station. Rhett had won that argument through sheer stubbornness. Troy had left for his shift looking like he hated every step toward the door.“I slept fine,” I lied.
“Don’t tell me you slept fine; we all saw what you looked like this morning. And I took that personal day to make sure you sleep tonight.”I closed my laptop. “You didn’t have to do that. Take the day.”“Yeah, I did.”“Rhett—”“It was the best solution. Troy and I wouldn’t have been able to focus at work with you here alone, at the mercy of a psychopath. And when we can’t focus, that puts lives on the line. It was one personal day, not all of my vacation time. And Troy will use one of his next shift.”I sighed, unable to think of a retort that didn’t make me sound like a brat.Rhett barreled on. “But right now I’m asking about tonight.” He nudged my knee with his. “You could sleep in our bed. Where it’s warm and safe and you won’t be alone with your brain spinning wild snake—sorry, caution ramen scenarios.”I bit back a smile.“I’m fine, Rhett.”“You’re not fine. And that’s okay.”“It’s also none of your business.”
He stared down at his hands for a long moment, picking at the edge of a nail. “What if I’m the one that’s not fine?”That stopped me. “What do you mean? You and Troy slept, didn’t you?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, the casual confidence slipping. “Yeah, but Troy was there. He anchors me, helps me settle down. But one of us had to work, so now I get to be the one lying in bed imagining all the ways some psycho could get to you.”I set my phone on the table and turned to him, gripping both of his hands in mine. “I’m okay, sweetheart.”
“Yeah. I know. But I don’t want to be alone with these thoughts, Aims. It scares me.”The raw honesty in his voice made my chest ache. This wasn’t Rhett trying to fix me or hover or smother. This was Rhett admitting he was scared too.
“You’re playing dirty. Asking me to do it for you instead of for myself.”“Is it working?”
I looked at him—really looked at him. The worry lines between his brows that hadn’t been there a week ago. The genuine fear beneath his easy grin.“Technically,” I said, “last night wasn’t all bad. There was a portion of the evening that was... not terrible.”His eyebrows shot up. “Not terrible?”
“Before the snake nightmares. When I was, um. Thinking about other things.”A slow grin spread across his face. “What kind of things?”“Nevermind.”“Were these things related tocertain activities that took place yesterday over donuts?”“I said nevermind, Rhett.”
“Yeah, but why nevermind alone when you could nevermind in good company?”I shoved his shoulder, laughing despite myself. “That’s your pitch? Come to bed with me, I’ll help you nevermind?”“I’ll put it on a t-shirt if my bare chest makes you feel too nevermind.” His grin softened into something more earnest. “Come on, Aims. Just sleep. That’s all. I won’t even touch you unless you want me to.”
I thought about last night—the hours of staring at the ceiling, the way every shadow had looked like something coiled and waiting. Then I thought about the night before that, tangled between Rhett and Troy, feeling safer than I had in years. Not because of the sex, though that had been spectacular. Because of the solid, steady warmth of another person beside me, reminding me I wasn’t alone.“Okay,” I said. “But if you hog the covers, I’m going back to Troy’s bed.”
“Deal.” Relief flooded his face before he could hide it. He stood, offering me his hand. “The kittens will be thrilled. Olive’s been asking about you.”“Olive is five weeks old. She doesn’t ask about anything.”“She meowed in your direction this morning. That’s basically asking.”I took his hand, letting him pull me up from the couch. His fingers were warm and steady around mine, and he didn’t let go as we walked down the hallway.In his room, I crawled onto the far side of the bed while Rhett checked on the kittens in their cat enclosure—Olive and Cheeto curled into a single orange-and-gray puffball. He watched them for a moment, his expression so tender it made something turn over in my chest.
He climbed in beside me, leaving a few inches of space between us. The silence wasn’t awkward—it was cautious, both of us aware of the invisible line we were negotiating.“I didn’t mean what I said about just sex yesterday. Not the way you guys heard it.”“I know. And I know you’re scared of more than the snakes,” he said after a moment. “And that’s okay. But try not to let fear control you, Aims.”
I blew out a breath. “I know. But I wasn’t ready for that conversation yet. The one where you ask what this is.”“Then I won’t ask. I can’t promise we’ll never hurt each other,” he said, his voice quiet in the dark. “But I can promise we’re not like your ex.”The thought of him landed like a stone in my chest. Garrett, who’d stepped into our lives like family, who’d made me believe I finally had people—and whose betrayal had crushed me more than anyone knew. I swallowed hard. “I know.”
Rhett and Troy were good men. Loyal to a fault, and I knew I could trust them.“What would podcast Aimee tell you to do?” he asked.I smiled drowsily. “To take a risk on big love. To let you guys in.”“She gives such great advice. Maybe you could follow it? Just a little at a time.”I closed the distance between us, pressing my back against his chest. His arm came around me, pulling me close, and the tension that had coiled in my shoulders all day began to ease. He was heavy, solid, and warm, his pure physical presence offering a comfort I couldn’t help but melt into.
“Okay,” I whispered. And for the first time since I’d found that box in my apartment, sleep came easy.
Chapter 17
Troy
Istumbledthroughourapartment door at a little after eight in the morning, my body weighed down with the bone-deep exhaustion that only comes after a twenty-four-hour shift with a late-night call. The place was quiet—no Rhett blasting music while making breakfast, no Olive and Cheeto racing around like their tails were on fire. My irritation at Rhett for skipping work to play bodyguard to Aimee flickered like a dying ember, stubborn but fading. I couldn’t really blame him. If I hadn’t been on shift, I’d probably have done the same damn thing. Still, the silence made my stomach twist with an uncomfortable question: where the hell were they?
My duffel bag hit the floor by the door, and I winced at the thud it made against the hardwood. We’d responded to a three-alarm fire at a warehouse downtown, and every muscle in my body screamed in protest as I bent to unlace my boots.
“Rhett?” I kept my voice low, not wanting to wake Aimee if she was still asleep. No answer.
As I padded down the hallway, a thought wormed its way into my brain: what if they’d fucked? The image flashed unbidden—Rhett’s broad back, the flex of his muscles as he moved above Aimee, her blonde hair splayed across the pillow, those blue eyes of hers locked on his face. I expected jealousy to hit, waited for it like bracing for a punch, but instead found myself half-hard in my jeans.
Well, that was new.
