her palm, she said, “God, I can’t think straight. I just want to leave. I want to go…”
Home was the obvious choice, but she didn’t say it. Something just wasn’t adding up here. The cryptic runaround, and now the way she insisted on leaving? This odd beating around the bush was getting to him and made him even more determined to get to the bottom of whatever was going on. “Go where? What the hell are you running from?”
She didn’t answer, only looked away. He could read the turmoil on her face, knew by the way her chest rose and fell on each rapid breath that she was on the verge of tears. But he wouldn’t stop, not until he had some answers.
“Again with the silence.” He rose from the bed and paced to the window before turning back to her. “Cut me some slack, Laine. Throw me a bone here. Something. Talk to me.”
She looked up, sheepish. “I will—”
“But not here. So you said. Like I told you, the longer we wait—”
She tossed him a terrified look, but attempted to hide her fear just as quickly. “I know.”
He wondered if she really did. “I can help,” he said. “You know I can. Let me.”
She drew her lips between her teeth as her chin trembled yet again. When the lone tear slid down her cheek, every possessive cell inside him exploded. He went back and sat on the edge of the bed next to her, nudged her chin with his thumb until she looked at him as his other hand caressed along the side of her neck.
He was done playing around.
“You’re scared,” he whispered. “I can see that. Let me in, Laine. Let me help you.”
“I can’t…” she started.
God, he was about to blow a gasket. But he calmed himself enough to speak softly. “I know when you look at me, you see a quiet peacemaker. Rest assured though, there’s more to me than just some guy who can talk a baseball bat out of Mrs. Johnson’s hand every time Mr. Johnson gets frisky and gropes the waitress in the diner.” Good, he liked that the edge of her lip quirked at that comment, that she responded to him in some small way. “I come from a long line of bad-asses, Laine. I just chose a different way to kick butt, that’s all. Words work better in most situations, and that’s a motto I live by. But all those tough guys in my family? I can hold my own against any one of them, and they’ve each got the scars to prove it. I can—and will—protect you from whatever it is that has you running. I want…” He stopped to swipe at her tears with the pad of his thumb. “I need you to believe that. I need you to trust me in this.”
“Oh, Tye.”
As he looked at her, his insides burst in a powder keg of protectiveness and need. He thought back on all those times he’d flirted with her before, yet still held himself back. Shit, he’d been kidding himself to think it was just because of his position in town, or even because of hers. Tye could’ve—hell, probably even should’ve—been upfront from the beginning. With the gentlest of touches, with the simplest smile and an honest word of sincerity, she could’ve been his by now. But he hadn’t said anything—and Christ, he regretted it now. Finally touching her, finally soaking in the warmth of her skin, he knew. He knew he’d wasted so much time.
He cautiously held her face in his palms and stroked her skin. Her battered cheek, her quivering chin. Her full bottom lip, moist and soft against his thumb. He wanted to kiss her. Ah God, he was going to kiss her.
Leaning forward, he brushed her lips with his. Careful not to hurt her—or Lord forbid, freak her out—he pressed a little more. Her hands moved up his forearms until she held onto his wrists, but she didn’t move or push him away. She kissed him back lightly, maybe a little unsure. But then her lips parted, and he had to bite back a groan.
Oh hell, she tasted so good. The salt from her tears mixed with a flavor he instinctively knew was pure Laine. He wanted more, needed more…
But instead he
Home was the obvious choice, but she didn’t say it. Something just wasn’t adding up here. The cryptic runaround, and now the way she insisted on leaving? This odd beating around the bush was getting to him and made him even more determined to get to the bottom of whatever was going on. “Go where? What the hell are you running from?”
She didn’t answer, only looked away. He could read the turmoil on her face, knew by the way her chest rose and fell on each rapid breath that she was on the verge of tears. But he wouldn’t stop, not until he had some answers.
“Again with the silence.” He rose from the bed and paced to the window before turning back to her. “Cut me some slack, Laine. Throw me a bone here. Something. Talk to me.”
She looked up, sheepish. “I will—”
“But not here. So you said. Like I told you, the longer we wait—”
She tossed him a terrified look, but attempted to hide her fear just as quickly. “I know.”
He wondered if she really did. “I can help,” he said. “You know I can. Let me.”
She drew her lips between her teeth as her chin trembled yet again. When the lone tear slid down her cheek, every possessive cell inside him exploded. He went back and sat on the edge of the bed next to her, nudged her chin with his thumb until she looked at him as his other hand caressed along the side of her neck.
He was done playing around.
“You’re scared,” he whispered. “I can see that. Let me in, Laine. Let me help you.”
“I can’t…” she started.
God, he was about to blow a gasket. But he calmed himself enough to speak softly. “I know when you look at me, you see a quiet peacemaker. Rest assured though, there’s more to me than just some guy who can talk a baseball bat out of Mrs. Johnson’s hand every time Mr. Johnson gets frisky and gropes the waitress in the diner.” Good, he liked that the edge of her lip quirked at that comment, that she responded to him in some small way. “I come from a long line of bad-asses, Laine. I just chose a different way to kick butt, that’s all. Words work better in most situations, and that’s a motto I live by. But all those tough guys in my family? I can hold my own against any one of them, and they’ve each got the scars to prove it. I can—and will—protect you from whatever it is that has you running. I want…” He stopped to swipe at her tears with the pad of his thumb. “I need you to believe that. I need you to trust me in this.”
“Oh, Tye.”
As he looked at her, his insides burst in a powder keg of protectiveness and need. He thought back on all those times he’d flirted with her before, yet still held himself back. Shit, he’d been kidding himself to think it was just because of his position in town, or even because of hers. Tye could’ve—hell, probably even should’ve—been upfront from the beginning. With the gentlest of touches, with the simplest smile and an honest word of sincerity, she could’ve been his by now. But he hadn’t said anything—and Christ, he regretted it now. Finally touching her, finally soaking in the warmth of her skin, he knew. He knew he’d wasted so much time.
He cautiously held her face in his palms and stroked her skin. Her battered cheek, her quivering chin. Her full bottom lip, moist and soft against his thumb. He wanted to kiss her. Ah God, he was going to kiss her.
Leaning forward, he brushed her lips with his. Careful not to hurt her—or Lord forbid, freak her out—he pressed a little more. Her hands moved up his forearms until she held onto his wrists, but she didn’t move or push him away. She kissed him back lightly, maybe a little unsure. But then her lips parted, and he had to bite back a groan.
Oh hell, she tasted so good. The salt from her tears mixed with a flavor he instinctively knew was pure Laine. He wanted more, needed more…
But instead he
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