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Chapter 27

The rain slowed over the next few hours, but the power remained out. Although Addison slept in his arms, Oliver wouldn’t call it a sound sleep. Any time he shifted, she startled awake, asking if the storm had stopped, if she could go look for Kyle now.

He’d shush her with a brush of lips to the crown of her head and assure her that they’d go in the morning. Threading their fingers together, he curved his body around hers and closed his eyes. He couldn’t imagine making the drive to Galway with his usual pounding headache, but he would if he had to. He wasn’t about to let Addison face this herself.

The slope of her shoulder was sprinkled with freckles like confetti. Just last week, he was falling asleep in pain and alone, and now here was Addison—in his bed, in his life. An unexpected gift—one he had to return, no matter how much he wanted to keep her.

She deserved better than the man he was now. She and his old self would have been perfect together. He’d have gotten a job teaching in Seattle. Convinced her to extend her vacation days so they could travel and swim in warm waters. Maybe they’d have gotten the pets they both wanted.

But Old Oliver didn’t exist anymore. She deserved better than the invalid he’d become. She’d have a great life with someone else… and leave him to his shadows. When she learned what he knew about Kyle, she’d never forgive him for keeping it from her anyway.

Addison stirred, waking. Lowering his mouth to her breasts, he reveled in the way she arched into him, in her urgent gasps, in the way she urged him closer, as though she couldn’t get enough of him either.

Slowly, mapping each freckle, he worked his way upward to her lips, keeping the kiss light, flirtatious. It was she who deepened it, who needed more of him too, while the storm kept reality at bay.

She opened herself to him… so sweet, so trusting. He didn’t even know if he trusted himself. He wished he could be back to his old self again—the Oliver he used to be.

The thought depressed him.

As though she saw the change in his eyes, she cupped his cheek with her soft hand and returned his mouth to hers. “Stay with me. I need you.”

He stilled. For years now, most people viewed him with pity. With sadness. Sometimes grotesque fascination. But not Addison. She was looking at him like the scarring didn’t exist, like she wanted him to kiss her as badly as he wanted to kiss her, like this thing between them could be something real, even though they both knew it couldn’t.

Since the accident, he’d hidden behind the hats, the beard, the shadows. But he didn’t want that with her. Maybe he’d finally lost his mind, but when it came to Addison, he didn’t want even more barriers between them. They already had plenty.

He brushed his lips across hers. Once, twice. When her eyes closed on a small breath and she opened to him, he took the offering.

But he was greedy. Soon it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough when it came to her.

Reaching for protection, he settled between her thighs.

“And you were worried you’d lack the stamina.”

Laughter bubbled. Delight. Yet another emotion he’d forgotten. Surging into her, he drank in her hungry sounds, and let himself feel—just for a little while—what it felt like to be happy again.

Chapter 28

Later, when she rested against him and the rain still tapped at the windows, he couldn’t stop touching her, tracing the spots that made her breath catch. Not ready for morning. Not ready to let her go.

When he slowed at the smooth line across her side, fingertip tracing the raised edges, her hand caught his, pulling him away. “Don’t.”

He’d noticed the scar before, but had been too distracted earlier. “Where’s that from?”

“Kyle’s wife. It’s from the incident I’d mentioned when I first met you. Harley and Kyle had a deeply toxic marriage. I had Netta one evening, and she came knocking, drunk out of her mind, waving a gun, looking for Kyle, threatening to shoot. Netta was in the room, shrieking that she didn’t want to go with her, scared. Harley had done a number on her, and the poor kid was still healing. I kept her behind me, trying to talk Harley down. The gun went off. I fell with Netta under me… the bullet grazed my side. Do you see why I can’t give Netta to her? She doesn’t want her. She only wants to hurt Kyle.”

Lots of people wanted to hurt Kyle. Some wouldn’t hesitate to harm Addison if it meant getting to her brother. He needed to get over his shitty panic attacks. Somehow. He wouldn’t send her out to look for Yarrow alone.

Finally, she angled her head to look at him, her green gaze vulnerable. “Oliver… was I anyone in the dark?”

The question hit him like a fist. He sat up. “What the hell, Yarrow?”

She scrambled to her knees. “Exactly. You hate me. You hate my brother. I just—forget it. I don’t know why I asked that.”

But he could see it—the wall going up. He wouldn’t let her rewrite what they’d shared into a fuck of convenience. Unable to resist touching her, he smoothed back a lock of her hair. “I wanted you from the moment you trespassed.”

She didn’t react to his joke. “Because you hadn’t been around women in months.”

“That’s not true.” He paused, not wanting to admit the rest. Not something so close and personal. Not to a Yarrow. But he couldn’t bear that look in her eyes—the uncertainty, the hesitation. She was closing herself off to him while still naked in his bed. “I haven’t wanted to be with anyone since the accident. I’ve felt nothing. Nothing for anyone since the accident, until you.”