Page 111 of Best Kind of Trouble
His face softens, and he leans down and scoops me into his arms. The tears finally track down my cheeks as he holds me close, and even through his shirt and coat I can feel his heart beating hard too. He holds me close for a long moment, like he can’t bear to let me go, then kisses my forehead and carries me into my bedroom. He lays me down in the bed like I’m something precious, then pulls the covers up to my chin. But he makes no move to get down beside me.
“You’re not leaving,” I say, starting to sit up, worry pumping through me.
A ghost of a smile passes over his handsome face. “Am I allowed to take my coat off? Or is getting comfortable out of the question?”
“I’ll allow it.” I smile, but tears are still sliding down my cheeks. I won’t feel settled until he’s in the bed with me.
He removes his cell phone from his coat pocket, setting it on the bedside table, then shrugs off the coat. Sits down on the edge of the mattress and takes off his shoes.
“You can take your pants off too.”
He gives me a regretful smile, then reaches over to wipe away my tears. “No. I think I’d better keep my chastity belt on.”
I laugh in surprise as he slides under the covers next to me, my body naturally tilting toward him because he’s so big.
“Do your feet slide over the end of the bed?” I ask, fascinated.
“I’m not Bigfoot, Briar,” he responds, looking amused.
“But youarebig everywhere.”
He groans as he reclines on his side and pulls me to him, my back to his front, my body fitting perfectlyagainst him.
A deep sense of peace fills me as he wraps his arms around me, holding me close and enveloping me in his scent.
He might think he’s incapable of protecting people, but I’ve never felt this safe with anyone else.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
LIAM
I’m sure this makes me sound like the asshole I am, but in the past, it’s always felt like torture to stay over at a casual fling’s house after sex. Like the opportunity cost for fooling around is hours of lying in the dark next to a near stranger. But lying next to Briar feels so different.
I’m not going to lie—I obviously want her again. But I also want to hold her, to listen to the way her breathing evens out once she’s found the peace of sleep. I’d like to memorize the way it sounds and the feeling of her tucked up against me. It might never happen again, so it would be foolish not to soak it up.
Which is why I vow not to waste a minute of the night on sleep.
But sleep must have pulled me under after all, because I’m awoken by Briar whimpering in my arms.
Adrenaline rushes into my system, and I look around for threats, seeing only Karma’s yellow eyes glowing in the dark and the digital face of a clock. My gaze lowers to Briar, snuggled up against me. She whimpers again, her body trembling.
I stroke her hair and whisper, “Wake up, Briar, you’re having a nightmare.”
She continues to tremble, so I turn her in my arms. Her eyes open with a far-off look, and I know she’s still caught in it. So I stroke her hair again, murmuring to her. Seconds later, recognition fills her eyes.
“Liam.”
“What were you dreaming about?”
“I’m glad you’re here,” she says, sounding on the verge of tears again.
I hadn’t liked seeing her cry earlier. It felt like a stain on my permanent record. A verification that I’m pretty good at making people sad without even trying, which isn’t the kind of talent anyone gives out medals for.
But she asked me to stay, and she fell asleep in my arms.
“What was it about, Princess?” I ask, the nickname coming out softer now than it had in the beginning.
“They were cutting my hair,” she says in a small voice. “But it wasn’t just Melly. My father and mother were with her.”
