by Lucia Grace
“Damn fuckin’ straight,” Saylor interrupts.
Gus chuckles and shakes his head at Saylor before continuing. “Made sure he learned that lesson, too.” He raises his brows as he looks to Rhett, making sure he knows that was for his benefit as much as mine.
“Thanks, Gus,” Rhett barely pushes out through his anger, his eyes never leaving me.
And I stand there, staring back, unable to take my eyes off of him. Beyond grateful that he was there and I didn’t have to fend off another man on my own who just wanting to use me. Thankful that I had someone care enough to step in for once.
For me.
IT’S A FEW HOURS LATER, and I’m still shaken.
When Gus finally insisted that I leave after asking me no less than three times if I was okay and wanted to take the rest of the night off, Rhett was kind enough to see me home. I tried to tell him I’d be fine, that he didn’t have to leave seeing as there were more than a few ladies there tonight to see him, but he wasn’t having any of it. He simply ignored my comment and gave me a hard look, put his giant, tattooed hand to my lower back, then guided me out back to the stairs and up to the apartment.
The entire walk up the stairs all I could think of was his hand on me, and I had the hardest time trying not to let his simple touch to my shirt-covered back affect me. It proved to be harder than I’d like to admit.
As soon as we made it through the door, we both seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, the tension from earlier easing slightly. But when the door clicked behind us, my heart started pounding like a kick drum yet again because I was alone with Rhett for the very first time.
Yes, we had been left alone a few times before, but there had always been others nearby. Like at the restaurant the other day at lunch or at In Ruins that night when he followed me out back. There were always people around or in the next room.
Except then.
Then it had just been the two of us and the mounting tension—different from earlier—that always seemed to surround us.
We stood there for seconds that felt like minutes, just looking at each other. Then, before I knew it, he was standing in front of me, our chests almost touching as he lifted his tattooed hands to cradle my face. Rough palms gently laid upon my skin while calloused fingers fanned into my long hair.
And my all-too-eager heart calmed at his touch.
His dark eyes scanned my face, trailed to my lips, then stared reverently into mine while my body yearned to lean closer—to be wrapped in his arms.
Then, shocking me, he said, “I’ll get you to trust me, Kennedy. With your past, your truths…your heart.” His deep voice was quiet and rough, which caused my skin to break out in goosebumps and my once-calming heart to race yet again.
I could tell that he wanted to say more, that he didn’t want to leave. But after making sure I was good to be alone, he briefly pressed his lips to my forehead—featherlight and tender—and with a gruff “lock up behind me,” he was gone.
And for the first time since we met, I really wished I’d have asked him to stay.
The rustling of keys in the lock a while later jars me from my thoughts. My heart and mind still racing from his words, their conviction, and the way his full lips felt against my skin. “Hey, chickie,” Saylor greets as she walks through the door. After locking up behind her, she finds me sitting in the corner of the couch, bundled in a baggy sweatshirt and leggings I had changed into right after Rhett left.
Her face softens, kind and concerned. “You doin’ okay?”
“Yeah,” I reply softly.
“I can’t believe that creep had the nerve to touch you like that. In a bar full of people, at that. If he’d done that to me, I would have laid him the hell out. Let me tell you.”
I wince slightly, feeling weak. Realizing how pathetic I must have looked frozen in place.
Saylor catches my silent reaction. “Oh girl, no one blames you for how you reacted. I’d like to say how I’d react, but who knows?”
“But that’s just it. You would have reacted. I just froze in place.” I shake my head, ashamed.
“Hey now, no need of that, doll. You did nothing wrong. It was all that prick. He’s just lucky it was Rhett stepping in and not me,” she replies, shaking her fist as she walks over to the couch to plop down next to me.
“But seriously.” She turns to face me. “Nothing was your fault. Not him touching you, nor how you reacted. Nothing. So get that out of your pretty head.”
“Right,” I say, a bit sarcastically.
Saylor picks up on my tone. “I’m serious. There’s nothing wrong with getting scared in that situation—”
“But that’s just it, Say. I wasn’t just scared. I was—am—angry. So angry. So why couldn’t I have done something? Or at least said something? It isn’t like it was the first time it’s ever happened to me. But I just froze up and did nothing.”
“What?”
I look to Saylor to see fire burning in her dark eyes, just like her brother’s. When I don’t answer her, she asks again. “What did you just say? That this isn’t the first time a random man has put his hands on you…uninvited?”
Swallowing harshly, I force myself to keep looking into her oh-so-serious eyes and not cower away like I desperately want to. “The last place I worked was a family diner, but I’ve worked in a bar before.”
I’ve also lived a life plagued with men who didn’t understand the word no.
“That isn’t an explanation, Kennedy! Or even a goddamn excuse. No man should ever be putting their hands on you or any woman ever without invitation or a clear cut yes that it’s okay!”
“I know,” I say quietly. “I know it isn’t an answer or excuse; it’s just the truth.” I shrug.
“Oh, honey,” Saylor breathes out as she leans in to wrap me in her arms.
“It may not have been the first time some random guy has touched or grabbed without my consent, but it is the first time anyone has ever stepped in to help me on their own.”
Saylor leans back, her eyes sadder than I’ve ever seen. “Well, doll. Get used to it. Because you’ve got a whole group of us now that will always be here for you. Gus, me, Nash…Rhett. All of us.”
My heart warms. The best decision I ever made was coming to Sunvale and turning into the lot behind In Ruins and walking into that bar.
“We’re a family and take care of each other. And darlin’, you’re one of us now.”
With anger and worry still flowing furiously through my veins, I storm into my condo, throwing the front door open before slamming it shut in my wake.
Pacing my living room, I run a hand through my hair, then down my face. So many pent-up emotions swirling through me, leaving me unsteady and agitated.
I only left Kennedy mere minutes ago, but it feels like a goddamn lifetime. The events of tonight leaving me on edge and ready to fucking tear down everything in my sight.
After walking to my car parked behind the bar, I sat there for a few minutes trying to calm down, to gather some control, but when that didn’t work I made the ten-minute drive to my place, hoping the quiet car ride would help. The entire time I tried talking myself down, reminding myself that she was okay. But nothing worked.
Not one goddamn thing because all I could see was his hand on her body and Kennedy’s reaction to the touch.
The way her body froze, then shook. How shock, fear, and anger covered her beautiful face.
But the fear…that’s what I can’t let go of. Because I know, down to my fucking bones, that there’s a reason behind that fear. And I’m going to find out what. Because just like I told her, one day I’ll get her to trust me, to open up to me.
When that day comes, I’ll slay any motherfucker who ever caused her pain, caused her fear. And I’ll protect her with every fiber of my soul.
Goddamn, I can’t shake this feeling. It’s something I’ve never felt before. So all-consuming and maddening.
I’ve always been protective of Saylor, especially after o
ur parents passed, but this is so much more. With Kennedy it’s magnified, amplified, like it’s fucking built into my DNA solely for her.
Thank fuck I made it to her before he touched her again—that cocksucker—he’s goddamn lucky I didn’t unleash the rage that’s consuming me. That I can’t let go of.
It’s like lava flowing through my veins.
Storming from the living room into the attached, open-concept kitchen, I round the island to grab a beer from the fridge.
Popping the top, I take a swig as my mind races. Running over what happened, before landing on Kennedy.
My palms still burn from touching the satin skin of her cheeks when I cupped them in my hands. My lips still lingering with the feel of kissing her forehead.
It took all of my willpower and strength to leave her in that apartment—the same one I used to share with my sister. Knowing she’s in a bed I used to sleep in.
One that’s never had another woman grace its sheets.
All I wanted to do was stay with her. Wrap her up in my arms. Never let her go.
Keep her safe.
But from the look on her face I knew I had to leave, because she wasn’t ready for that. For me.
Fuck.
I just need a chance with her. To make her see that I’m more than my reputation. That even just after these couple of weeks I know she’s different from anyone else.
That she deserves more than the one nights I was dishing out. That I’d give her more than that.
I’d give it all to her.
And after tonight, I need that chance more than ever.
LOCKING THE FRONT DOOR OF the shop, I pocket my keys and make my way across the street to In Ruins. Hoping to hell Saylor pulls through and gets me alone with Kennedy.
It may seem desperate, but this girl has been freezing me out since day one, and I can’t fucking take it anymore. Especially after last night when that fucker put his hands on her. So after racking my brain for most of the night, trying to come up with a plan, I took matters into my own hands and recruited my sister to help me get Kennedy alone. Hoping that if she has nowhere to run or anyone to buffer our interaction that she’ll have no choice but to talk to me. To give me the time of day. Even just five fucking minutes.
Walking up to the door, I see Saylor stepping out.
“Gus just left, and I told her I wasn’t feeling well so I was going upstairs to lie down. I feel like shit for lying to her, but she told me to go and she’d finish cleaning up. You owe me, big brother.” Her brown eyes glare pointedly at me. “Good luck. I hope this works.”
Then before I can reply, she pops up onto her healed tip toes and kisses my cheek before entering the door to the side that leads to the apartments upstairs.
Fuck, me too. This has to work.
Quietly I turn the knob and walk through the door before locking it behind me. Blaring country music fills my ears as soon as I walk in, the stereo system in the corner pumping “Last Minute Late Night” by Kane Brown through the entire space.
Then I see her. Her long hair’s pulled up into a messy knot on her head, exposing her slender neck. She’s wearing tight, dark jeans and a flowing top that showcases her killer body.
I stand stock-still and take her in as she busies herself with clean up.
She’s wiping down tables and turning up chairs as if she’s done it a million times before.
But that’s not what has me riveted. No, what’s got me rooted to the spot and has my pulse racing is the swing of her hips and shake of her ass as she does. Her body moving to the beat of the song as she moves through the handful of tables left to clean.
Not wanting to interrupt the show, I lean my shoulder against the doorjamb and keep quiet.
Eyes roaming and roving over every tight inch she’s packing. Taking in how carefree and unreserved she’s being, singing out loud and dancing all about. If I wasn’t there last night, I’d have no clue that less than twenty-four hours ago she was manhandled and scared.
She lets out a yelp when she finally notices me but doesn’t say a word. Just stands in the middle of the bar looking at me with pale green eyes wide and chest heaving as the last notes of the song filter through the air around us.
Then “Fire Away” by Chris Stapleton starts to filter through the speakers, and I can’t stay away a second longer.
I had this whole speech planned, to ask how she was and to plead my case, but without a word I erase the distance separating us and hold out my hand. Needing her close—in my arms—where I know she belongs. She looks down at my hand, palm up, unsure and if I’m not mistaken…interested.
“Move with me.” I don’t ask, but state. Wanting nothing more than to have her in my arms.
Her eyes soften and her shoulders relax. A long exhale leaves her full lips. Then, after tossing the rag she was using to wipe down the tables, she lifts a small hand and places it into my larger one. Still not saying a word.
At the feel of her soft skin against my rough palm, I breathe deep. Reveling in the simple connection. Feeling it down to my bones as I take in her flawless skin against my tattooed hand.
Then I bring her into my chest, wrapping her arms around my neck and winding mine around her slim waist. The top of her head only coming to my shoulders. My hands riding precariously low toward her ass.
As we start to move, my heart thunders and my soul fractures. Both calling out to her.
I lead her small body around the floor as we sway to the beat and heavy lyrics of the song.
With each step, we get closer and closer until her full tits are pressed against my chest. Her hips fitted close to mine.
The perfect fit. Like she was made for me.
Just like I knew she was.
I can feel her warm breath searing my chest through my shirt right before she tilts her head to lean her cheek against my shoulder. Her arms tightening their hold.
I’ve never felt so right and whole and goddamn alive in all my life. With this stunningly beautiful woman in my arms, held tight to my body, swaying and moving to the beat.
I never want this moment to end. But as the song comes to a close, she steps back but not out of reach.
Taking a chance, I leave one hand to her hip while I lift the other to trace a finger down her cheek. Just like that first night she stole the breath right from my lungs.
Her skin is as soft as it was then. And she flushes and sighs and leans in all the same.
“Still never seen anything as beautiful as you.”
She flinches slightly and goes to turn her head. But I don’t let her.
“Don’t do that, baby. Don’t hide. Ain’t nothing wrong with how gorgeous you are. Radiating beauty unlike anything I’ve ever known—ever seen. True and real and good.”
Mossy green eyes widen and fill with emotion. So I keep going.
“Never been graced with that before. So much good.”
She sighs then. Dream-like. Then she parts her lips and speaks. “Just when I’ve got myself convinced to stay away. You do this, say these things, and completely throw me off-kilter.”
I smirk at that. Nothing but a slight tip of the corner of my lips. “Go out with me.”
She huffs a faint giggle and lightly shakes her head. Eyes always on mine. Hands to my chest.
“Let me show you I’m not like them. Let me prove to you how good and right and fucking perfect we could be.” I trace another gentle finger down her soft, flushed cheek. “Go out with me,” I urge on a rough whisper.
Her breath hitches a beat before her eyes slide closed.
Then she rocks my world. Tilts it on its axis. And totally fucks me up in the best way possible.
As her wide eyes open, she breathes, “Okay.”
And my heart, it fucking soars.
IT’S SUNDAY NIGHT, JUST THREE days since Rhett finally broke down enough of my walls to have me agreeing to a date with him. Just two days since the most romantic night of my life, where he held me so tightly in his arms and swayed me
across the battered wooden floors.
And I’m a nervous freaking wreck.
I still can’t believe how tender and sweet he was that night. And the fact that I agreed to this.
Not only am I nervous as all hell to open myself up in any way to yet another man—even one like Rhett, but I also can’t find anything to wear!
I know it’s silly and vain and downright unreal considering I hate drawing attention to my body and the way I look. But I can’t help wanting to look good for him, be worthy of him…look like I belong with him.
Rhett’s presence is staggering—always—and it isn’t just because his glorious body is covered in tattoos from the neck down. He’s tall—so tall—with so much bulk I swear he could crush skulls with his bare hands. Add in his rich brown hair styled in that always just-fucked way, his deep brown eyes, sun-kissed skin, and carved-from-granite features, and you’ve got a man that always turns heads.
Always.
So as much as I want to blend in with the rest of the world, for him I want to stand out.
Frantically, I search my closet from top to bottom trying to find the perfect outfit but come up empty-handed only to end up heaving the most depressing sigh known to man.
What the heck am I going to do?
I hear Saylor chuckle from the doorway into my room behind me. I spin around, a look of panic on my face. I know it.
“Girl, what’s got you all out of sorts? It’s just a date with my brother.”
I swallow at the reminder. “I know! That’s why I’m freaking the hell out. Nothing fits or looks right. My hair won’t cooperate, and every time I try to apply makeup, I either look like a clown or a damn hooker.” I end my rant on a whine, I know I do, but I can’t help it.
I’m finally giving in to the feelings Rhett’s made me feel since day one, and I have no clue what to wear. He’s got me all out of sorts, in more ways than one.
Shaking my head, I sigh in defeat. “I just…I want to look nice but not too overdone. Or too much.”
“Doll, you’ve got to relax.” Walking into my room and placing her hands to my shoulders, Saylor eyes my wardrobe in the open closet behind me before looking back into my eyes. “Let’s go casual but cute. It’s Rhett and Sunvale; I can’t imagine he’s taking you anywhere too fancy. So how about that little navy floral sundress that’s hanging back there? The one with the ruffle, off-the-shoulder top. It’ll be perfect for the warm weather and show off a little skin without revealing too much.