“Hey, shhh, it’s okay.” He pulled her into his arms again. She wouldn’t lose another person she cared about because of something she’d done. The vision of Jake broken and lifeless slipped into her head. “Promise me you’ll stay here.”
“I promise, but I have to call Cubby Hawker.”
“Okay.”
Jake’sfirst reaction was to go to Branna’s house anyway and see if they were still there, then shoot them. Of course, he couldn’t do that, but looking at her, huddled and scared in his chair, made anger twist in his gut. The scenarios of what could have happened to her were making him feel sick. Even now, she could be abused and bloody. Some man could be—No, don’t go there Jake. She’s here safe with you.He’d make sure she stayed that way. Suddenly, all the reasons why he’d walked away from her the morning after they’d made love had disappeared. He wanted her here in his house, safe from whoever was intent on harming her. He’d wanted to follow her last night after she left the Howler, but something had stopped him; now, for the life of him, he couldn’t remember what.
Her eyes were wide and dry, but he knew she was battling tears. Branna O’Donnell’s composure had deserted her, and she was scrambling hard to regain it.
No, I won’t be responsible for you getting hurt. I can’t go through that again.Jake knew that when the shock had passed, Branna would hate herself for saying those words, for showing weakness.
He took one of her hands, warming the icy fingers in his. He didn’t want to think about her running along that dark trail through the trees to reach him, or the terror that must have gripped her while he’d been lying warm and safe in his bed.
“I need to get my phone, Rosebud.”
“Okay.”
“Just a few seconds, baby, that’s all, and I’ll be back.” He ran a hand over her head before he stood.
“I’m okay, Jake, really.” She nodded, her green eyes huge in her pale face, and he didn’t believe her words; she was far from okay.
Running to the bedroom, Jake found his phone, then pulled a blanket from the bed and ran back. After wrapping the blanket around her body, he took off her boots and tucked it around her feet. She huddled into it, looking so tiny and vulnerable, he swore his heart just sighed.
“It’s all right now.” He kissed her softly, brushing those chilled lips again as he reassured her once more.
“I’m not hurt. It was just a shock.”
“It’s okay to admit you were scared, Rosebud. Okay to cry about something that no sane person wouldn’t feel traumatized about.”
“I don’t like to cry.”
He lowered himself onto the arm of her chair, then called Cubby. Her hand stole into his while he waited, and the gesture was telling. Branna O’Donnell didn’t reach for people; she was insular and contained, but she’d reached for him.
“Cubby, it’s Jake. Branna’s just run here along the trail because she heard someone in her house, and she thinks they were trashing it. Yeah, okay, see you soon.”
“So, why don’t you like crying?” he asked, pocketing his phone.
“Crying doesn’t help anything.”
Jake lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the cold knuckles as he thought about that.
“Sure it does, it’s like releasing the water after a bath, let’s all that excess emotion spill down the drain. Keeping all that pent up inside you isn’t healthy, Rosebud.”
She was tense and nervous and her eyes still took up far too much space in her face. He knew about shock, knew how it worked, so he gave her hand one more kiss before he regained his feet.
“I’m going to make some hot chocolate.” He couldn’t stop touching her; his hands pushed the hair back from her forehead.
“Yes, I’d like some of that please.”
So polite, Jake thought, moving to his kitchen. Big and open plan, his living, kitchen, and dining areas all opened onto each other.
“I like your home.”
“Thanks. My dad, some friends, and I built it.”
It was a man’s place; he knew that. Not much decoration, just a few paintings and rugs and the prerequisite pillows on the large sofas that his mother had insisted on supplying. But there was a big TV and a view of the lake, and it was his. For months after his return, it had been his haven…the bolt-hole where he licked his wounds.
Shooting her a look, he saw Branna was resting her head on the back of the chair watching him. Leaving the milk to heat, he dropped down in front of her again. Touching her reassured him that she was here and safe.
