Page 60 of Searching for Bristol
When she was his, he wouldn’t let her get hurt. He’d protect her, feed her, make sure all her personal needs were met. She’d be completely dependent on him. As it should be. He was the man; it was his duty to provide and look out for his woman.
But not here.
This town was shit.
He hated everything about it.
He’d grown up in a town exactly like Fallport. A town where the locals thought they knew everything about everyone. Where every little thing he did got back to his parents, who frequently beat him for absolutely no reason. Just because some nosy biddies saw him doing something they didn’t like.
He’d have to be careful. Stay under the gossip radar. But that wasn’t a problem. He’d learned to do just that years ago. He didn’t stand out in any way, and he made sure not to draw attention to himself. He blended into the background.
No one was going to keep him from his Bristol. Seeing her look at him with such gratitude when he’d kept her from falling made him want to snatch her up right then and there. Take her home and love her the way she was meant to be loved.
As for that asshole…he didn’t deserve her. He’d left her to slave away behind her table while he had fun with his friends. And the people around here didn’t deserve her jewelry. It was way too fine for the likes of them. She needed to sell it solely on her website, like she had before. It had been too long since she’d put up anything new. And now he knew why. Because she’d gotten distracted.
The world needed her beauty in the form of her stained glass and jewelry. Once he had her home, inhishome, he’d remedy that. Maybe even sooner.
Glaring at the man who obviously thought he’d wonhiswoman, Lance sneered. After a while, the guy wouldn’t even remember her. His type never did. He’d think she up and left, went back to her old life. And the guy would move on to the next woman.
That’s what Lance was betting on. He had a plan, and now that he was here in Fallport, now that he’d found Bristol again, he was going to put it in motion. He’d already broken into her house back in Kingsport and collected some of the things he knew she’d want to have when he made his move. Sheets, soap, shampoo, panties…
Just thinking about her underwear, the things he’d done with them, made him smile.
“Soon, sweetheart,” he muttered.
“I’m sorry, what?” a man said from the other end of the bench. “Did you say something?”
Obviously homeless, the man smelled disgusting. His hair was also matted, and clearly hadn’t been washed or brushed in quite a while.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Lance sneered.
“Whatever,” the man grumbled, then got up and walked away.
Once more, Lance looked across the square at his love. He resented even the few seconds his attention was taken away from her. Being patient would be the hardest thing he’d ever had to do in his life. But he would. If it meant having Bristol as his very own…he’d do whatever it took.
No matter who got hurt in the process.
Bristol Wingham was his. Period.
CHAPTERELEVEN
With every day that passed, Rocky fell harder for Bristol. It wasn’t so much anything she did, and more how she made him feel. Happy. Content. Protective. And physically, he’d never wanted anyone the way he wanted her.
Though he didn’t feel any great need to rush her into his bed. Maybe it was because she was sleeping under his roof every night already. Maybe it was the assurance he saw in her eyes that she wanted him just as much. The “why” didn’t really matter. He was just enjoying the anticipation.
In the past, he hadn’t really liked dating. He didn’t like dancing around an attraction. But with Bristol, he was loving it. The way she shivered when he wrapped his arm around her to help her walk. The way goose bumps broke out on her arms when he carried her. How his bathroom smelled like her lemon body wash. All of it.
Today, she’d gone with him to a house where he’d been rebuilding another deck. He was almost done, and when he’d asked if she wanted to go with him, she hadn’t hesitated to agree. She’d sat in the shade and talked to him while he worked. About her mom, currently out in California. Apparently the woman moved every couple of years, simply because she got bored. She was a self-professed hippie who didn’t care what anyone thought of her. She’d never gotten remarried after her husband died and was content to date with no strings or expectations.
Rocky told her about his own mother, how she was apparently the opposite of Bristol’s. She never dated even once after his father died, and would probably never sell the house they’d grown up in. The house she’d shared with her husband.
They talked a little about his time in the SEALs, and he’d told her about some of his missions without any specific details. He’d even found himself opening up and talking about the mission that had gone so wrong for his brother, which was the catalyst for Ethan wanting to get out of the military.
Then talk had switched to lighter topics. Food they loved. What she was like as a teenager. Tony. Art and his cronies. All in all, it was a great day. They were now both sitting on his couch. Bristol had made them a delicious dinner after they’d arrived back at the apartment. He’d put the dishes away and they were watching a cooking show on TV.
But he had a feeling neither of them were really paying attention. At least, Rocky knewhewasn’t. He was focused on how good it felt to have Bristol lying against him. He was hyper aware of each breath she took. His arm was around her shoulders, his fingers lightly brushing against the bare skin of her upper arm. Her head was tucked into the space between his shoulder and neck, and she had one arm thrown across his belly.
Not able to stop himself, Rocky turned his head and kissed her forehead gently.
