by Nichole Rose
"Yes, sir."
I stride toward my office, eager to set eyes on Liberty before I tackle all the shit on my list for the day. She needs to move in with me sooner rather than later. This driving in different cars bullshit isn't going to work for me. I want her with me, where I can keep an eye on her.
I frown when I get to the office and see the lights are off. She's not here yet. I head inside, dropping the checks on my desk and her breakfast on hers. I doubt she had a chance to eat after I left. We were running late. Mostly because letting her put clothes on should be criminal. She's a goddess.
I drag my phone out of my pocket to call her.
"Hey," she answers on the third ring, breathless. "I'm running late. Traffic."
"You're moving in with me."
"What?"
"You're moving in with me," I repeat, adjusting the flowers on her desk so they're closer to the window. They probably need sunlight.
"You can't order me to move in with you, Killian," she says, her voice quiet.
"I'm not."
"It certainly sounds like it."
"I want you with me," I mutter, trying to ignore the twinge of hurt over the fact that she doesn't want to move in with me. I can't rush her. She needs time, and I know that. But I've never slept as peacefully as I did with her in my arms last night. Now that I've had it, I don't want to give it up. Don't want to go backwards when every fiber of my being demands we move forward. Moving in. Marriage. Babies.
"We barely know each other."
My brows snap together. "I know you well enough to know how you sound when you're coming all over me."
"That's not what I meant."
"No?"
She sighs into the phone. "You can't just bulldoze your way into my life, Killian. You can't make decisions for me and just expect me to fall in line. I'm not one of your soldiers."
Jesus. Is that what she thinks I'm doing? Bulldozing my way into her life? Trying to force her into more than she's ready to give me?
Have I been doing that?
I think back over the last two days, all the demands I've made. Telling her what's going to happen between us, telling her to stop overthinking it. Deciding when she eats and when she works and where she works.
Fuck.
Maybe I have been too demanding, trying to force her where I want her even while trying to convince myself that I'm giving her time. Making decisions is what I do. I don't spend a lot of time thinking things through or talking it out. I do what needs to be done. It's what I've always done, but this is different.
She's different. She's used to taking care of herself, of being the only one who decides her future. I can't just expect that to change overnight because I'm in love with her. If I want her to realize she loves me too, I have to back off and give her space.
"You're right," I mutter, blowing out a breath. "The choice should be yours."
"Killian–"
"I'll back off."
"Killian, that's not wha–"
"When you're ready, we'll talk about it. But not until." I glance at my watch, realize that I'm already running behind. "I need to go check on some shit. Your breakfast is on your desk when you get here. Drive safe."
"Okay," she whispers. There's something in her tone, but she disconnects before I have a chance to figure out what it is or what it means.
I tip my head back and curse. I hate knowing that she feels like I'm bulldozing my way into her life. I want to give her everything she's ever wanted, make her happy. Clearly, I'm not off to a great start. I need to regroup and make a new plan. Because now that I've had her, there's no way I can let her go.
I survived an IED blast and warzones. Epidemics and terrorists. I've been to hell and walked out alive. But there's no fucking way I'll survive without her. I'm so in love with her it's almost painful. Letting her go now isn't an option. So I need to figure out how to make her happy. Because her being unhappy isn't feeling much like an option either.
In fact, it's feeling pretty goddamn intolerable from where I'm standing.
Chapter Seven
Liberty
"I think I messed up."
"By taking the job? You can always tell him to suck an egg and come back here. I miss you. Dominic won't let me do anything fun," Summer says.
"Not by taking the job." I drop my head back against my desk chair and stare up at the ceiling. The spackling directly overhead looks like a duck. It's almost noon, but I haven't seen Killian. He's been running all over the place, putting out proverbial fires. He's texted me a few times. I think he's mad at me though. "I like Killian."
"And he turned out to be a jerk?" Summer asks, a little thread of iron in her voice. "I can send Dominic to kick his ass. What did he do? Maybe I'll kick his ass myself."
"He didn't do anything." I huff out a breath. "He's done everything right."
"Oh." Summer pauses. "So…what's the problem?"
"I slept with him."
"What? Seriously? Holy crap."
"Yeah," I whisper. "I'm in love with him."
"Well, obviously," she says with a little laugh. "You wouldn't have slept with him if you weren't. Was it good? What am I saying? Of course it was. I refuse to believe a man like him is bad at sex."
"He's definitely not bad at it," I mutter, my cheeks heating. If anything, he might be too good at it because I want to do it over and over with him. The way I felt with him inside me was indescribable. I've never felt as close to anyone as I did with him last night. Even afterward, when he took care of me, I felt cherished, adored. I never want that feeling to end. But I think I messed it up this morning. "He told me he loved me."
"Aww, of course he does! You're incredible and you're gorgeous. He would be an idiot if he didn't love you. Everyone does."
I snort.
"I'm serious, Liberty," she says. "You don't see it because being alone is all you know, but everyone loves you. Dominic didn't hire you just because you're smart. He hired you because he knew you needed a safe place to land and a family. There isn't a single person here who wouldn't miss you if you left."
"I didn't know that," I admit.
"I know," Summer says. "You're not very good at letting yourself be loved."
She's right. I've always been too afraid to get too close, scared I'd get attached and then be left alone again. It's the life I know. I moved from foster home to foster home, never staying for long. I got attached to some of the families at first, but they never kept me. Eventually, I stopped trying to become part of the family, to get close. It was easier that way.
When I finally got accepted to the boarding school, it was a relief because I had a sense of permanence. I kept to myself though. Just in case my caseworker decided to pull me out and move me. I worked hard to maintain good grades so she wouldn't have a reason to move me.
Until Summer started working for Dom, I did the same thing there…threw myself into the work. I tell myself that's because I didn't want to get fired, but I think Summer is right. I did it because I'm not good at letting myself be loved, at letting people in.
I hide because it's easier. But I don't want to do that this time. I'm so in love with Killian. I knew it before he ever told me he felt the same. But I didn't say it back. I was too scared to do it, to let myself be that vulnerable with him.
"He wants me to move in with him."
"Wow."
"I want to do it," I whisper, swallowing. "But I didn't tell him that. I panicked." I feel so bad about what I said to him. I know I hurt his feelings, even if he never admits it. I wanted to say yes, tell him that I love him too. Instead, I freaked out, accused him of bulldozing his way into my life.
I love that he takes charge and doesn't let me hide from him. I love that he's constantly in my space and how confidently he makes decisions. I didn't say any of that though. I should have. Because now he thinks I want space, and that's the exact opposite of what I want.
"You're afraid," Summer guesses, her voice soft.
"So
afraid," I admit, tears burning at the backs of my eyes. "I've never met anyone like him before. I don't want to move too fast and ruin this. But I don't want to move slow either. I don't want him to regret falling for me."
"Liberty," Summer whispers.
"It sounds stupid out loud."
"It doesn't. Do you remember when I was going to quit?"
"Yes." How can I forget it? She was miserable, thinking Dom didn't love her.
"I was afraid to tell Dominic how I felt, afraid that I'd ruin things if I did. I decided that I'd rather leave than have him find out that I was crazy about him. I was wrong then," she admits. "I think you're wrong now. You're so worried that he'll regret falling for you that you're pushing him away. You're making your own regrets, trying to save him from those you think he might have."
"I'm…" I swallow the instinctive denial because she's right. That is what I'm doing. I told him that he can't make decisions for me, but I'm trying to do the same thing for him. Worse, I'm treating him like he doesn't know his own mind, when he's made it clear over and over that he does. That he wants me. That he loves me. I'm putting my insecurities on his shoulders, when it's my hang-ups that are the problem.
And he's been so patient, so understanding. He knows I'm scared, and he doesn't get mad at me for it. He just reminds me that he's here and that everything will be fine.
God, I'm so blind.
He's been nothing short of incredible to me, and I pushed him away.
Which means it's on me to fix it.
"I need to go," I tell Summer, already formulating a plan. "Call you later?"
"Of course. Love you."
"Love you too."
"Whoa," she says. "You've never said it back before. You always just say you too."
"I'm trying something new."
"I like it."
I smile. "Thank you, Summer. For everything. You're my best friend and I appreciate you so much. I don't know if I've ever told you that before, but it's true."
"You're going to make me cry!"
"No crying. I have a Marine to catch."
"Have fun."
I disconnect and sit there for a moment, thinking. He's been avoiding me, giving me space. It's my turn to take the lead and let him know how I feel for once. It's my turn to take a leap and put my heart on the line like he's done for me. And I know exactly what to do to show him how much I want to be with him.
I glance at the clock. It's almost noon. If I hurry, I can get what I need and get back before the hour is up. I grab my purse and slip my feet back into my shoes before grabbing my phone and heading out.
Kathy's at the front desk when I get there. She looks up at me, the phone stuck to her ear.
"Lunch," I mouth to her.
She gives me a thumbs up.
I duck out the front door into the sunshine, checking to make sure Killian isn't close. The parking lot is empty. He's probably still dealing with the plumber or one of the other thousand things that require his attention. He's putting in so much hard work to make this program a success. It's honestly impressive how much he's managed to accomplish in so short a time.
The people who find a place here are fortunate to have him in their corner. God knows, I'm lucky to have him in mine. No one has ever treated me like he does or made me as happy as he does. He may be rough around the edges, but that gruff personality of his hides a heart of gold. One that he's entrusted to me.
I hurry to my car as quickly as I can. My legs are a little stiff from sitting for so long and my thighs and pussy are a little sore from last night. I don't regret it though. I love that I'm carrying a little reminder of him today, especially since he refused to budge on doing it again this morning. I tried to convince him, but he's very stubborn.
I love that about him.
Hell, who am I kidding?
I love everything about him.
By the time I get to the house to get what I need and head back toward work, my lunch break is almost over. I thought it would take far less time to get there and get back, but traffic is crazy. Everyone seems to be on the road, rushing to get food.
I swing by Panera to grab us some lunch. Killian is probably starving by now. I know I am. I tried to eat the breakfast he bought me, but I didn't have much of an appetite after what I said to him on the phone.
My stomach growls when I'm back in the car with the food. The soup smells amazing.
My phone rings when I'm a couple blocks from the office.
I fish it out of my purse and smile when I see Killian's name on the screen.
"Hey," I murmur, hitting the Bluetooth button so it syncs to the stereo and I don't have to try to juggle the phone and drive.
"You left without me," he growls.
"You were busy." I frown, not sure why he's so worked up about it. I haven't been gone very long and I'm already almost back to the facility. It's literally a block away.
I flip my blinker on to get in the left lane so I can turn.
"I wanted to have lunch with you."
"Oh." My heart melts a little when I hear the pout in his voice…which he will never admit is there. It's sweet though. "I didn't eat. I picked us up lunch. I figured you were probably hungry."
"I'm starving, baby girl. And I don't want food."
"Oh." I press my thighs together to ease the ache his growl sends tearing through me. Thank God I'm at a red light because I can't see through the haze of desire.
"You still mad at me?"
"I wasn't ever mad at you, Killian. Um, can we talk when I get back to the office?"
"Why?"
"Because I have some things to say."
"Depends on if you can talk while I'm fucking you with my tongue."
"Killian!"
"Been thinking about it all day, baby girl. Can't concentrate on a fucking thing because I keep remembering how good you taste and how sweet you sound." His breath rasps down the line. "I fucking hate giving you space."
"It's not my favorite thing either," I admit, easing off the brake when the car in front of me turns. I follow behind it, eager to get back to the office to see him. "I've missed you so damn much today, Killian."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I haven't gotten anything done because I can't concentrate. Can we start o…Oh my gosh!" I shout, shocked when a black SUV barrels through the light, headed right at me. I hit the gas, trying to get out of the way, but it's already too late. He's going too fast and I'm barely moving.
The SUV plows into me, the screech of metal ripping through the air.
I scream Killian's name.
Chapter Eight
Killian
"Liberty!" I yell, listening in horror as she screams for me. The sound of metal scraping on metal is loud…too loud. I've been pacing around the parking lot like a caged beast, waiting for her to get back. She's close though. The sound of the impact is too loud to be coming just from the phone.
I take off running toward the roadway, frantic to get to her. God, if she's hurt. If I lose her…
My breath rasps in my throat, erupting in an enraged roar at the thought. I can't lose her. She's everything that's right in my world. I knew it the moment I saw her. Spending the morning away from her only reinforced how important she is to me. I've been on edge all day, fucking hating the way we left shit between us this morning.
I reach the roadway and whip my head back and forth. I see the SUV sitting in the middle of the intersection, the front end dented. I don't see Liberty or her car though. God, where is she?
"Jesus. Oh, Jesus," I rasp, running full out in that direction.
Cars are pulled over on the side of the roadway. I dodge them, moving as quickly as I can to get to her. By the time I make it to the intersection, my lungs burn and my heart pounds a frenetic rhythm against my ribcage. My stomach is twisted in knots, terror for her churning through me with every beat of my heart.
I round the side of the SUV and see her car sitting sideways, facing the wrong direction. The back end is
all fucked up. The back axel is destroyed, the back tire sitting at an odd angle. There's probably frame damage.
It doesn't matter. She's the only thing that matters right now. The driver's side door is standing open and she isn't inside.
"Liberty!" I shout, whipping my head back and forth, trying to find her in the milling crowd. I'm ready to lose my damn mind when I see her through a break in the crowd. She's sitting on the sidewalk, surrounded by people.
I shout her name again and race toward her, shoving people out of the way. She doesn't look hurt, but she's pale. Too pale. She's got her arms wrapped around her middle. She looks so damn tiny and fragile.
"Liberty," I rasp.
She looks up at me.
"Killian," she cries when she sees me. Tears fill her eyes and then spill over.
I drop to my knees in front of her, dragging her into my arms. She burrows into me, sobbing and clinging to me like she's afraid I'll disappear if she lets me go. As soon as she's in my arms, the vise around my heart loosens.
She's safe.
"Are you hurt, baby girl?" I ask, running my hands all over her to make sure.
"N-no. Just scared."
"Shh. I've got you," I promise, glaring at everyone until they look away, giving us a modicum of privacy. I bury my face in her hair, breath in that sweet coconut scent…send up a prayer of gratitude to God for keeping her safe for me.
Sirens finally sound in the distance, letting me know the cops are on the way. Which is probably a good thing. If I get my hands on whoever hit her, I'm killing them. The other driver is lucky she isn't hurt. It's the only thing keeping me calm right now.
Liberty hears the sirens and sniffles before pulling back. Her eyes are rimmed in red, little streaks of mascara down her cheeks. I wipe it off with shaking hands, putting her back together so she can meet the world on her feet, as the courageous woman she is. She doesn't like to cry or let anyone see her vulnerability. And that's okay. I'll help protect that fragile part of her with my life, let her be the brilliant woman she is when other people are around.
"What happened?" I ask her, pressing my lips to her forehead and then both of her cheeks and her lips. Letting her go isn't an option right now. Or ever. If she isn't ready to move in with me, I'll move in with her. Or sleep on her porch. Whatever it takes to make her realize that this is permanent and I'm not going anywhere without her.