Page 162

I sigh. “No. I’m working up to it.”

Give a girl a break, would ya?

I’ve been to one of Dalton’s fights tonight, experienced the exhilaration of that.

Then, got my heart thoroughly stomped on and ran away.

Ran away again.

And cried on my living room floor until he showed up and laid the heaviness of his past at my feet.

It’s been a long fucking night.

He smiles, sauntering over toward me and I watch him. It looks like a weight has been taken off his shoulders. He’s still Dalton - intense, passionate, protective. He’s just… lighter.

“Want some help, baby?”

I arch a brow. “He says like he needs an excuse to want to get me naked.”

“Let me take care of you, Len,” he whispers, stopping in front of me and meeting my gaze.

Let me take care of you.

God.

What if I don’t know how to let someone else take care of me?

“Okay,” I say, my voice hoarse, my heart thumping in my chest. He holds his hand out and when I give him mine, he gently pulls me off the counter. His touch is gentle, reverent, as he begins peeling the clothes from my body and all I can do is watch him, my chest heaving.

When was the last time someone touched me like this?

Took care of me?

I genuinely can’t remember.

Once all my clothes are on the floor, he guides me toward the shower and ushers me inside. The hot water hits my back and I immediately let out a sigh, closing my eyes. I feel him slip into the shower in front of me and he turns me to face the water before gently digging his thumbs into my shoulders.

I let out a groan. “That feels really good.”

“Good,” he murmurs, leaning down and brushing a kiss against my temple. “Just relax, baby.”

Nodding, I lean into his touch but as relaxed as my body is with his hands on me, my mind is a fucking mess. Memories of my childhood flooding in, faster than I can patch up the holes and a sob bubbles out of me before I can stop it.

“Hey,” he whispers, turning me to face him. I shake my head, unable to open my eyes as the tears begin to fall. “What happened?”

“My dad died when I was seven,” I force out, my voice breaking as I remember that phone call. The way my mother screamed and fell to the floor in the kitchen when she’d gotten the call that my dad has wrecked his bike. “I just realized that was the last time.”

He cups my cheek, trying to direct my gaze to his but I shake my head. “The last time what, Lennon?”

“The last time someone took care of me like this.” A sob bubbles out of me.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” he says, pulling me into his arms and wrapping them tightly around me. I press my hand to the muscles in his abs, grounding myself in the feel of him.

“He died in a motorcycle accident. Things were bad before that but they got worse after.”

He drags his fingers through my wet hair, calming me further. “How were they bad before, baby?”

“My dad and I… we had such a special relationship,” I say, digging my fingers into his stomach slightly. They contract under my touch and I release a breath. “But my mother hated that. She wanted to be the only woman in my dad’s life and then she had two daughters.”