What the fuck?
Standing to my full height to find him, he appears in my peripherals.
Wrapping his arms around me, he pulls me into his chest, leaving me frozen.
"What are you doing?"
His fresh, drenched in masculinity scent surrounds me as he holds me closer, "Shhh. Just relax for a second."
Resting his cheek against my head, he scratches gently up and down my back, lulling me into his warm embrace.
When's the last time I had someone hug me? A real one like this with someone giving me comfort just because I needed it?
I genuinely have no idea.
It's probably been years.
Some of the tension in my spine bleeds out, my shoulders relaxing into his hold, and I begrudgingly let my eyes fall closed. I can’t bring myself to wrap my arms around him, can’t surrender that easily, but that doesn’t mean I can’t lean against him and let him be my strength for a little while.
For a few seconds, we just stand there in my kitchen, bodies pressed together with nothing but a need for comfort holding us together.
I don't think there's ever a moment when we're together that I'm not, against my better judgment, attracted to him, but just for a minute, our physical closeness isn't defined by that, which is all the moredaunting.
One of his hands dips under my chin, bringing my gaze up to his.
The amber depths, framed with dark lashes, seem so sincere it's almost impossible to believe this is someone capable of the harm he's done.
And even harder to believe he would need to manipulate women into sleeping with him or working for him. They were probably falling at his feet to do both before he went through all this.
His eyes trace every inch of my face, full of wonder like he's taking in something of great magnificence and needs to soak in every second of it.
"What else did he say, Brig?" he asks again.
My cheeks warm, and I stammer out the uncomfortable truth, "He just implied you have a type."
That's definitely not all he said.
Cormac's eyes narrow with suspicion, but his lip lifts to one side in a smirk, "Try again."
I close my eyes and breathe in heavily, despising the words about to come out of my mouth, "He told me you were sleeping with the lawyer from before you tried to hire me."
Cormac's brows raise in surprise, but he doesn't deny it.
That unwelcoming, slimy feeling creeps under my skin again, and I itch to extract myself from his hold, to pull away from the comfort turned instantly cold.
"Wait, wait, wait, hold on," he chuckles, tugging me tighter into his grip. "Is that all? That's the part you didn't want to tell me? That he revealed I'm not a virgin?"
"Cormac," I tsk, trying to shove him away before abandoning the fruitless endeavor. "Don't be ridiculous. You're a grown man. No one was under the impression you were a virgin."
He gasps, tilting my chin up again, "Are you... are you jealous?"
"No." I'mnot.
"Baby," he croons, "Believe me, you don't need to be."
A heavy, exasperated breath whooshed out my nostrils, "I'm not."
"No? Then why was that so hard to admit?"
