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The Heathen (Preacher Brothers 2)

Page 29

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One day, I’d ask him to tell me about each and every one of them, ask him to tell me the story behind them, what they meant to him. Or maybe that day would never come.

“The storm finally lifted.” He didn’t look at me as he said those words, but I could see one of his hands was clenched tightly into a fist, his forearm and bicep muscles flexed from the force of it.

I tightened my hands on the blanket and swallowed roughly, wanting to talk to him about all this, wanting to know what the next step was.

But I was afraid, nervous. I was scared of what he might say.

I didn’t know how long we stood there, me staring at his back, him staring out the window, but he finally turned around, and I felt my breath catch. He had this haunted look on his face, but as soon as he saw me, I swore his eyes lit up.

Still, I didn’t say anything, too afraid to utter words and ruin this moment. But I found myself taking a step closer, and another one until the only thing that separated us was the kitchen island. I stared down at that wood and granite, the memories of how he’d touched, licked, kissed me so intimately on it just days before.

“You’ll be leaving, going home, now that the storm is lifted?” I hadn’t meant to say it out loud, and I regretted the words as soon as they spilled from my lips. I was even more scared now of what he’d say, how he’d react.

I was afraid of my heart being broken.

He said nothing, and we just looked at each other. “I can take you to your car. Let me just get dressed.” I went to turn, telling myself not to cry, that I was stronger than this. I’d been a rock in my life, the only person I could count on when it came to myself. I couldn’t let something like love pull me under.

Love?

Yes, I felt like I was falling for Cullen, like I already had. And there was no going back. He could leave and there would be nothing I could do. He could be out of my life forever, and I’d always think about him, always want him.

Always love him.

But before I took a step toward my bedroom to get dressed, to let the only person who I’d ever cared about with my whole heart walk out of my life, he stopped me with two soft words.

“Don’t go.”

I turned back around, feeling my hands shake from nervousness, from anxiety and all the other hundred emotions racing through me.

“Don’t go,” he said again, but his voice was deeper, gruffer, this knife moving gently over my body, not hard enough to break the skin, but the threat was still there.

He was walking toward me and stopped when only a couple feet separated us. I tipped my head back and looked up at him, at his coal-black eyes I saw soften, as I watched the expression on his face ease.

“Don’t you want to leave, to go home?” Those words were barely a whisper from me. His throat worked as he swallowed, and when he nodded, affirming that he did want to leave, I felt my heart plummet to my belly. God, I couldn’t cry. I wouldn’t.

Tell him how you feel. Tell him what you want.

But before anything could come from me, he cupped my cheeks. I realized I’d already grown to love that, to feel his big, strong hands on my body, to feel him being so gentle with me. He said nothing as he stared into my eyes, as I felt the world shift around us, everything else fade away.

“I do want to leave, but not because I want to get away from you.”

I sucked in a sharp breath.

“I have my life, obligations, my brothers waiting for me.” He smoothed his thumbs along my cheekbones. “But I want you with me. I want you in my life forever, Kimber.”

I felt the smile form on my lips before I could stop it, before I could keep my composure.

“God help me, but I can’t let you go. I won’t.” He leaned in and kissed me on the forehead, an act so soft, so gentle that I closed my eyes and sighed at the feel of his lips on my skin.

“So you don’t want to leave… me?” That last word was whispered so softly I don’t even know if he heard me.

“Fuck, never. Christ, I’ll never leave you, and I won’t let you leave me.” He rested his forehead against mine, and we both breathed out. “I love you, Kimber. I fucking love you, and there’s no doubt in my mind we are meant to be together.”

God, he’d never spoken truer words, because I felt the same way.



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