Page 63 of Rogue Survivor
“She’ll be fine, darlin’. She has her panic button and her self-defense teacher said she was top of her class.” His fingers trace slow circles at the small of my back, but the tension in his shoulders? He doesn’t like this any more than I do.
“I know.” I lock the door and drape my arms around his neck. “Leah loves her new security system, by the way. Thank you for that.”
Connor rests his forehead against mine, a move he uses for only the most serious of moments. “You know I wouldn’t let her out of my sight unless I knew she was totally safe.”
I do. But hearing him say the words? It’s a balm to my soul.
“How do youalwaysknow just what I need?” I ask.
His deep laugh rumbles through his chest, and it’s one of my favorite sounds. “Oh, I fuck up often enough. But lovin’ you? It’s as easy as breathin’.”
Linking our fingers, I tug him down the hall to the bedroom.Ourbedroom. We never talked about it. Never put an “official” label on our relationship. But we both know what this is.
Forever.
“I’ll understand if you want to wait.” Connor shuts the bedroom door and tips his gaze to the bed. “But…”
I laugh, and so much of the worry and fear I’ve carried for weeks fades. “I amnotwasting the perfect opportunity to get you naked, stud. And for once, V’s music won’t be so loud I can feel it through the floorboards.”
He fastens his hands around my hips, walking me backward to the bed as his mouth plunders mine. I can’t get his shirt off fast enough. Or mine, for that matter. But when I reach for the top button on his Wranglers, he slides his fingers into my hair and holds me still.
“I’m gonna take my time with you, darlin’. Worship you in all the ways you deserve.”
“Oh, really?” I’m putty in his hands. Have been since our very first kiss. “Show me.”
Six Months Later
Connor
“Last box, lil’ bit. Where do you want it?”
Kneeling on the loft bed with a hammer in her hand, she casts a quick glance over at me. “That’s Sasha. She belongs up here with me.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I pass her the box—it can’t weigh more than two pounds—then drape my arm around Isabel’s shoulders and lean down to whisper in her ear. “She’s gonna be fine, darlin’.”
“I’m not worried. Much.” Her tone says otherwise, but I’d be a hypocrite to call her on it. This is a hell of a lot harder than I thought it’d be.
“Mom.” V rolls her eyes, but she’s clutching the stuffed whale to her chest like it’s a shield. “It’s only twenty minutes between here and home. Less the way Connor drives when he’s…all intense and shit.”
“Language!” Isabel says, then shakes her head. “Sorry. Habit.”
Months ago, after one of the therapy sessions Veronica refuses to let her mother take her to, she admitted she sometimes swears so Isabel will correct her.
In some ways, she’s more mature than anyone I’ve ever known. But in others? She’s still a kid. One I’ll protect any way I can.
“Done.” Veronica sets the whale next to the mountain of pillows on the bed and climbs down the ladder. Handing me the level she wascertainshe wouldn’t need, she offers me a sheepish grin. “Guess this thingdidhelp. A little.”
Isabel pulls a tissue from her pocket and swipes at her eyes. “Is thereanythingelse you need? We could take you to dinner?”
“There’s some welcome party in the dining hall,” V says. “Besides, you’ll be back here on Saturday for parents’ weekend.”
Parents. Plural.
My girls’ voices fade into the background as I peer up at the photos hung in a perfectly straight line. Veronica and Isabel laughing at a water park when she was twelve. Her dad holding her, twin smiles on their faces. She couldn’t have been more than six.
When I see the last one, I turn away, making a show of checking the new locks on the third-story window. She wouldn’t let us see the photos she packed. Just said she’d picked the most important ones.
I never thought that would include a picture of the three of us. We flew out to Seattle to see my brother over spring break, and after dinner on the waterfront with Q and Graham, she’d passed Q her phone.
