Page 120 of When There Was You
He grimaces. “Fuckers.”
“And when I worked at a gas station one summer, some jerk robbed me at gunpoint.”
“Jesus.” His stare turns steely. “Did he hurt you?”
“He tied me up and shoved his nasty tongue into my mouth before leaving. But that was the scariest night of my life…and I’ve never felt more powerless.” Butch strokes the top of my hand with his thumb as I fight the unease ramping up in my chest.
“I’m sorry that happened to you. I can only imagine how terrifying it was.”
“I don’t want to be helpless, and living in the city multiplies my risks exponentially. But this,” my head dips toward the leather gloves, “is helping.”
His gaze turns calculating. “We should work on how to defend yourself barehanded.”
Those words only fuel the emerging strength I desperately seek…and am beginning to experience. “That would be amazing.”
He wraps me in a tight hug. “I will do whatever it takes to help you stay safe, Jacqui.”
As I lean into the surety of this man, not one shred of doubt exists. His formidable size isn’t even the main reason. It’s his lionheart, the protective instinct that’s bred into his blood, and his innate moral compass pointing him the only logical direction.
“Or you could just move in with me, and I’ll beat the crap out of any fucker who tries messing with you.”
I pull back, eyes flitting to his. Is he joking?
He laughs—nervously? “I’m showing youallmy cards.”
“Are you serious?”
The phone trills and Butch’s head swings toward it, debating before he ignores it. “I’m dead serious about fucking up anyone who touches one hair on your head. And you know I want us living in the same zip code…but you probably want an apartment nearby as a next step.”
“I know the distance is a drag, but is it a becoming a dealbreaker?”
He holds my face in his hands. “Baby, there are no dealbreakers with you. I’m in love with you.”
Emmy runs into the garage, breathless. “Can I go to Mimi’s and help bake brownies?”
“That’s who called?”
She nods, frenetically.
“Sure. Have fun.” Emmy starts to scurry off. “Call when you get there!” he hollers after her.
She waves in acknowledgment.
My mind hits overdrive.Game on.
Five minutes later, Butch hangs up the phone with confirmation Emmy made it to his parents’ house.
I lick my upper lip, then playfully bite the lower one.
Butch’s eyes track it. “That mouth,” he mutters.
My hand travels up my torso and coasts across one breast. Again, his eyes stay glued.
“Are you baiting me?”
I offer a slow, alluring shrug, like I don’t know what he’s talking about. But my gaze stays boldly fixed on his, silently begging him to take charge, possess me, make each nerve ending crackle.
“You’re being a very…bad…girl.” Every word is measured, a menacing caress as he stalks closer.
