Southern Desire (Southern Heart 2)

“You didn’t need saving. Tony and Dave are good guys.”

She frowns. “Then why the theatrics?”

I pull her in tighter, my hand resting just above her ass. Bending, I let my lips graze her ear. “I couldn’t stand the thought of another man’s hands on you.”

“You said he’s a good guy?”

“Yeah, well, he’s still not allowed to touch you.”

She stops moving and rises up on her tiptoes, her breasts smashing against my chest. My grip on her hip tightens. “You’re touching me,” she breathes. Her lips are so damn close to mine, all I can think about is kissing her.

“I’m allowed to touch you,” I finally say.

“Says who?” she asks, settling back on her feet as we once again start to sway to the music.

“Says you. Do you not remember what happened just a few days ago?” My hand trails around and slips beneath the waistband of her jeans, just behind the button. “Do I need to remind you what it felt like to have my fingers deep inside of you?”

Her breathing accelerates. “Show me,” she says, all breathy.

Fuck! Looking around, I see Olivia is dancing with Dave, and Evan and McKinley are still out here as well. I move toward them. “Hey, man. We’re going to head out.”

Kinley raises her head from his chest to argue, but thinks better of it when she sees Whit in my arms. I’m sure the lust is flaming in our eyes; I’m trying hard not to let it show, but my sister and Evan are the two people who know me better than I know myself. Instead of arguing, Kinley pulls Whitney into a hug. “Thank you for coming out tonight. We have to make this a regular thing.”

Whitney smiles. “I’d like that.”

“Can I have your keys?” I hold my hand out to McKinley. She doesn’t complain as she reaches in her pocket and drops them into my waiting hand.

I keep my arm around Whitney and walk toward David and Olivia. “We’re heading out. Evan will make sure you get home.”

“I got her, man. I’m not drinking.”

I turn to Olivia, seeking her approval, and she gives me the slightest nod. I make eye contact with Mike at the bar, and he nods. All right then.

“I guess I’ll see you at home,” Olivia says to Whitney.

Whitney looks up at me, those big green eyes silently asking me if that’s true. I shake my head. “Tomorrow,” she replies without looking away from me.

I give her hip a tight squeeze, letting her know I’m happy with her choice. My arm still around her waist, I lead her to Kinley’s car. “I rode with Evan,” I tell her.

She nods and climbs in when I open the door for her. I make sure she’s strapped in before closing her door. Once we are on the road, I reach over and place my hand on her knee.

“Where are we going?” she asks in a sleepy voice.

“To our spot,” I tell her.

She turns to face me, her head resting against the seat. “I like it there,” she mumbles.

“Yeah,” I agree.

“It doesn’t hurt when I’m there.”

Her words cut me, but maybe I can get her to talk. I know she’s been drinking and I shouldn’t pry with her in this state of mind, but I need to know where her head is. I want to help her and I can’t do that otherwise.

“What doesn’t hurt, Whit?”

“Losing her. I still feel it, you know.” Her hand slowly rises and covers her heart. “Here, it hurts so damn bad, but there, not as much.”

My heart cracks open at her words. This is so far out of my element. I don’t know what to do to help heal her pain.

“It’s you, Aaron.” She yawns. “You make it better.”

Gutted.

“Her birthday,” she mumbles.

“When?” I ask. She’s slowly falling into slumber and I need to know. “Whit.” I tap her knee. Nothing. I drive home, mind reeling with how I can help this beautiful, broken girl. How can I make it better? Pulling up to the house, I kill the lights. Whitney is sleeping softly in the passenger seat. I slip out as quietly as I can, careful to shut the door softly. I enter the house the same way, not wanting to wake the kids. The soft glow of the TV tells me that someone is still up. What I find brings a smile to my face. Mom and Dad are lying on the couch. Lexi is curled up in Dad’s lap, sound asleep. Mom is sleeping just as soundly against his shoulder. Walker is in his bassinet, the one Mom insisted he needed for here. It sits next to the couch, close to them.

Dad looks up. His wide smile says it all; this is his idea of a great night. “Want me to take her?” I whisper, pointing to my niece.

“No, let me enjoy them a little longer.”

I nod. “I’m just going to grab some blankets.” I head upstairs, taking them two at a time, slower than I normally would, not wanting to wake anyone. I grab a couple of quilts and spare pillows from the closet. Dad raises his eyebrows when he sees my arms full of bedding. “See you in the morning,” I whisper.

He nods, a small, knowing grin on his lips. I wave over my shoulder on my way out the door. Whitney is still sleeping soundly. I toss the blankets and pillows in the back and climb back into the driver seat. My night has turned out a hell of a lot better than what I originally planned.

Once we reach the pond, I send Evan a text letting him know where we are with Kinley’s car so she doesn’t freak out when she sees it’s not in either of our driveways.

Hopping out of the SUV, I grab the blankets and pillows and take them down to the dock. I make our bed for the night before going back for Whit. She stirs when I release her seat belt. I lift her into my arms. She weighs nothing. “Aaron?” she asks sleepily.

“I got you,” I tell her as I carry her down to the dock. Carefully, I place her on the blankets and making quick work of her shoes and then mine. I stretch out beside her and pull her into my arms.

“You brought me,” she says, yawning.

“Of course I did.”

Rolling over, she snuggles against my chest.

“Whit, when is her birthday?” I ask her.

“Two weeks. She would have been fifty.”

I hug her tight, not having the words. I feel her begin to shake, then a sob breaks free from her chest. “I miss her. So much,” she cries.

I don’t know what to do. I hate tears. I hate that she’s hurting and I don’t know how to fix it. I just don’t know how to help her. All I know is to hold her. Make her feel safe and let her know that I’m here. That she’s not alone in this. I’ll be there for whatever she needs. So I tell her just that over and over again. I kiss the top of her head, rub her back, run my fingers through her hair, all while this beautiful, broken girl breaks my heart as I witness her heartache.