With two people injured under this roof, I have no doubt what happened. I roll my shoulders to keep them from tensing at the idea of Rhett attempting to lay hands on any woman. He should know better. He’s supposed to be some sort of vigilante, after all.
I drop my arms away from my chest and turn my attention back to the pot. I grab a spatula and stir the chocolate and milk. If I want the truth from this woman, I need a different approach.
“Forgive me,” I tell her as I stir. “I take pride in caring for the people around me. I don’t like knowing that something happened under my watch.”
Blair sighs. The sound is filled with more feeling than she is letting on. Something’s wrong. I need to get to the bottom of it.
“Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself, Wes,” she says after a long pause.
“I’ve seen what you can do—I know that you’re very capable of handling things on your own.” I nod, staring down into the pot of melting chocolate. “Everyone else in this house can take care of themselves, too. Just because you can, though, doesn’t mean you have to. You can ask for help or lean on others from time to time. We don’t bite.”
Blair moves closer and leans against the counter, facing me. I look up and our eyes meet. Her dark ones are unreadable as she searches my expression for something. If she’s looking for answers, all she has to do is ask. I’ll tell her anything, which is… odd. I don’t usually care to share much about myself with anyone. My past is ugly. The man I used to be is even more so.
“I… I honestly don’t know how,” she admits, her voice so soft it’s hardly a whisper.
I lean down a little so I can hear her better. “Don’t know how to do what?”
“Allow someone else to handle things. Or even talk about… stuff.” Blair shakes her head and looks away from me. “Growing up, Dad taught me to keep my head on straight, keep my gun loaded, and most importantly to trust only myself. That way the only person who can betray me, is me. I’ve lived by that, even when I left that life to start my own. I appreciate Ledger allowing me to stay here with you all, but I should be out there handling my own issues—” She waves a hand toward the window. “—not here where my problems could potentially become all of yours. I shouldn’t be talking in the kitchen with you when I should be sorting through my own mess in my head.”
I grimace. I can’t imagine beating that thought process into a child. Being in the Marines, you learn a lot. The most important, however, is to have your buddy’s back no matter what.
“That’s a grim outlook on life, Blair, and that’s definitely not how things are done under this roof,” I tell her, my voice rough. “I don’t know how much Ledger told you about each of us, but here, we’re family—as strange as it is—and everyone looks out for one another.”
My attention lingers on the bruise near Blair’s eye. Without thinking too hard about it, I reach up and skim a fingertip just beneath it. Blair’s eyelashes flutter in surprise as we stare at one another.
With a hard swallow, my hand falls away from her face and I return to stirring the chocolate in the pot.
“There was a time when I didn’t give much merit to the idea of a family,” I admit, my voice so low it’s Blair that has to lean forward to hear me now. Shame wells up but I choke it down. “That’s changed since I got here. This family, the one you’re now a part of, is a unit that I take pride in and I take my position of caregiver seriously. Let me take care of you, Blair. You’re not alone anymore, I won’t let you be.”
Her eyes soften as she gazes up at me but still, there’s hesitation—perhaps even skepticism—that lingers in them. I find myself shifting closer to Blair, unable to help myself.
There’s something about Blair that has been drawing me in. She’s a capable woman, independent for sure, but I’ve caught flashes of soft vulnerability that tells me that there’s someone who doesn’t want to be those things all the time. Like, when Santi distracts her with his antics, or when the two of us are quietly chatting while we cook—those moments are when Blair can truly be herself; no longer on guard, just happy. She glows in those moments.
There’s this growing, aching need radiating inside of me that demands that I become a force so great, that the woman in front of me doesn’t have to be strong all the time. I’d sell my soul to the highest bidder in exchange for that opportunity. I have no use for it otherwise. Blair’s a warrior but even the most championed fighters need a place to rest their head at the end of the day. Hers can lay right here, on my chest, while I keep the rest of the world at bay. I’ll be her safe haven—her unwavering pillar of peace and comfort no matter what.
As it is, I’ll kill any motherfucker who comes sniffing around trying to get their hands on her.
Maybe my motives are a bit selfish. I want to be close to her, just as much as I want her to lean on me. I’m man enough to admit that I’m attracted to Blair. When she’s in the room with me, my lungs seem to expand further. Her soft laughter is delightful to listen to. It’s better than music yet inspires the same emotional response as hearing your favorite song on the radio that you haven’t heard in years. And should I get lucky enough to happen upon Blair when she’s alone and deep in her thoughts, I’m granted a vision of what angels probably look like up in heaven.
Is it wrong to want to hoard such a treasure?
Yes, probably.
Despite that truth—that I don’t deserve a beautiful woman like Blair—I can’t stop from wanting her. The reality that someone can just stumble into your life and change it in such a short amount of time, is dizzying.
“Wes?” Blair asks, breaking the short silence between us.
“Hm?”
“You feed us, clean house, are there to talk or listen whenever anyone needs it, and you help Ledger with the business.” She tilts her head and gives me a curious look.
I chuckle, a little bewildered where this is going. “Yeah, so what?”
“Well…” She clears her throat before asking, “Who’s taking care of you?”
My stirring pauses as I choke down a bitter laugh. I give myself a second to compose myself by turning my attention to the burner to turn it off.
“Before this,” I start, my voice gruff as I consider my words carefully. “Before Ledger and Gnarly Pines, I wasn’t the man you see standing before you. I leaned on others a lot, too much really. And rather than try to stand on my own, I kept leaning and leaning, until I started dragging people down with me. Thankfully, I’m not that person anymore. Now, it’s my turn to be the support others can lean on when they need it, Blair. I want to help, however I can.”
