He reaches for the seatbelt, leaning across me to snap it in place. My body reacts to his close proximity, skin tingling with awareness as my breath quickens. Same as it was in the kitchen earlier. Then his eyes catch mine and it’s like there’s a magnet in my lower belly, pulling on something deep inside of me.
When he took his shirt off earlier, I wasn’t sure what to make of the rush I felt throughout my body. Touching his firm skin had sent a thrill racing down my spine and a need I’d never known had been born. The need to know what his body would feel like pressed against mine. What his strong hands would feel like moving across my skin.
The need to know what his mouth would taste like.
My cheeks flush, heat creeping across my flesh with the warm breeze.
His eyes dart to my lips, and for a brief moment I think he might kiss me. I desperately want him to. My father would kill any man who even looked in my direction. Any prospect of love in his evil world had been impossible but now…
Those deep blue eyes shift away as if it pains him to look at my mouth any longer, then he closes the door to walk around the front of the truck.
My heart sinks in my stomach with the conflicting emotions swirling inside of me.
I’ve never had this kind of response to a man before. The way he looks at me, as if I’m the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, makes every one of my nerve endings come to life. My heart is pounding so hard I feel like it’s about to burst from my chest, and when I look into his eyes, I swear the earth moves beneath my feet.
Justin climbs inside, filling the cab with his large frame and masculine scent. He puts on his own seatbelt and curls one hand around the steering wheel before firing up the engine. Then we set out on the road.
The ride is quiet as I stare out the window, taking in the new scenery. It’s strange not being held under my father’s iron fist. To have free will and to make my own decisions.
A short time later, Justin pulls into the parking lot of a small shopping center. There are several shops in a row, a fabric store, a restaurant, a gun store, and in front of us, a sign above the entrance indicates this store is called the Good Stuff. The open store windows have mannequins adorning beautiful summer dresses, shoes, and accessories.
“My friend Jimmy’s wife owns this place. I called her earlier to let her know we were coming.”
Tears prick my eyes as my throat forms a thick knot. I shake my head, willing them not to fall, but the tears come anyway.
“Hey, what’s the matter?” he asks, lifting my chin to bring my eyes to his. Concern etches his furrowed brow.
“Nothing, it’s just, I’ve never met a man as kind as you.”
“I have my moments. I’ve been known to be a real asshole sometimes.”
I laugh through my tears. “I don’t believe that.”
“Just ask Pop, he’ll tell you.” Justin grins. “Come on, you’ll love April and Lindsey.”
The bell dings above us as he leads me into the store. Upbeat music plays softly over the speakers as a couple of women dig through the racks of clothes. They don’t even spare us a glance as we head toward the large counter at the back of the store. There, perched on a stool, is a young woman who appears to be about my age, maybe a little older, with long brown hair and fair skin. Her fingers move furiously over the screen of her phone, her armful of bracelets jingling with her movements.
“Hey, Lindsey,” Justin greets and her head snaps up.
“Hiya, handsome.”
“April around?”
She focuses her attention on me, curiosity brimming in her eyes. “Yep, she’s in the back. This Selena? Hi, I’m Lindsey,” she says, reaching her hand over the old, worn out counter. I place my hand in hers and she gives it a firm shake before releasing it.
“You two head on back, I’ll grab some stuff for you to try on. We have some dresses and other clothes that’ll look amazing on you.”
Justin looks down at me, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze.
“Thank you,” is my only reply, overwhelmed by her kindness.
“You got it, hot stuff.” She gives me a wink and hops down from her stool.
With my hand clasped in his, he leads me through a black curtain behind the counter. We wander through dozens of racks of clothes before we arrive at an open door. The tiny office is cluttered with boxes but the desk is neatly organized and there are family photos everywhere as well as framed art that looks to be drawn by a small child.
Sensing our presence, the petite woman behind the desk beams at us. “There you are!” She rounds the desk and carefully leans in to give Justin a hug. “How are you feeling?”
“Sore, but good.”
