“No.” I squeeze her hand, keeping my voice firm but gentle. “That’s not what I’m saying at all.”
Another flash of lightning illuminates her face, and I can see the war happening behind her eyes, wanting to believe me but afraid to trust her own self. I want to pull her close, shield her from the rain, but I wait. This has to be her choice.
“I’m sorry Shepherd,” she says finally.
I shake my head adamantly. “You never have to apologize for setting boundaries, Sutton. For you or anyone else.”
Her eyes search mine, tired, haunted, and yet somehow hopeful. She opens her mouth twice before the words finally come. “I don’t want boundaries with you,” she whispers, her fingers tightening around mine like she needs me to ground her.
My heart pounds in my chest, a mixture of ache for what she’s been through, disdain for the man or men who hurt her, and pure, unfiltered hope at her words. Rain pelts my face, my clothes clinging to my skin, but I barely notice the cold. All I can focus on is Sutton, her vulnerable eyes, her trembling body, and the way she’s looking at me like she needs me and doesn’t know how to ask.
“Stay with me tonight,” I beg her. She shivers violently, whether from the cold or her raw emotions, I don’t know, but her teeth start to chatter as the rain soaks through her clothes. I step closer, careful of my movements. “Please, Sutton. Stay with me. I promise nothing will happen that you don’t want. I just can’t bear the thought of you being alone out here. Not tonight. Let me keep you safe and warm even if it’s just for one night. Please.”
For a long moment, she just stares at me, fear fighting against trust, past trauma battling present desire. I’ve never wanted to protect someone more than right now.
Her frozen fingers tighten around mine, a silent promise in that small pressure. “Okay,” she breathes, the single word hanging between us like a fragile bridge.
Thank fucking Christ.
She steps into me, her other hand gently gripping my soaked T-shirt like she’s hanging on for dear life. I wrap my arm around her, pulling her into my chest, and kiss the top of her head. “You’re going to be okay. Everything’s going to be okay. I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.”
She sighs in my arms, her shivers more noticeable in my embrace.
Fuck.
She’s freezing.
I’ve got to get her warm.
“Do you trust me, Sutton?” I ask her as gently as I can as more thunder claps around us. For a heartbeat, she just looks at me, rain catching on her eyelashes. Then she nods again, more decisively this time.
“Yes.”
20
SUTTON
“I’ve got to get you warmed up before you freeze out here.” He slides his arm beneath my legs and lifts me gently against his chest. I don’t resist when he lift me, and I’m certain that tells him everything about how shaken I truly am. I wrap my arms around his neck, my face pressed against his chest as he strides through the rain toward the house.
Shepherd kicks the door closed behind us with his heel, the sound echoing through the empty rooms. Rainwater drips from our bodies, a puddle forming beneath us on the hard wood. My body shudders violently and my teeth chatter as he takes the stairs two at a time, navigating the darkened hallway to the master bathroom. He nudges the glass door open with his shoulder and reaches blindly for the nozzle, water falling from the rainfall shower head.
The water hits us both, still fully clothed, steam rising around us as the heat battles against our rain-chilled skin. I gasp at the temperature change, but I don’t pull away. Shepherd holds me under the warm spray, my body gradually relaxing as the water warms me.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs into my hair, my trembling slowly subsiding.
After a few moments, I lift my head, water streaming down my tear-stricken face. My eyes meet his, vulnerable and questioning. I would give just about anything to know what he’s thinking right now, but then, maybe I don’t really want to know. Shepherd carefully sets me down, making sure I’m steady on my feet before he steps back, giving me space within the shower’s confines.
“Better?” he asks, pushing wet hair from my forehead.
I nod, wrapping my arms around myself. “I’m sorry about?—”
“Don’t,” his voice is gentle but firm. “Everything is fine. You’re safe. There’s nothing to apologize for.”
The sight of Shepherd watching me makes my heart ache in a way I’ve never experienced before. Not with lust—though God knows that’s still there—but with something deeper. And that terrifies me.
“You’re still shivering,” he says, his brows pinched with worry. “We need to get you out of these wet clothes.”
I flinch, and he immediately backtracks. “I’ll get you something dry to wear. You can change in here once the shower warms you enough. I’ll wait outside.”
