Piece by Piece (Riggins Brothers 2)

“Thank you.”

“It’s the magic, brother.” He laughs and ends the call.

I feel better after talking to Royce, and I know, without a doubt, he will handle things on his end just like he said. There have been times when I’ve taken for granted the family that I have and the fact that I know they are always there for me. This is one of those times that I’m thankful to have them. I hate that Layla doesn’t have that support. I want to give that to her and so much more.* * *“Hi,” Layla greets as she slides up to my table. “You want your usual?” she asks, pen and paper in hand.

“I missed you today.” I can tell from the shock on her face that’s not what she was expecting me to say. I’m a man of few words, but when I do speak, it’s me. It’s real. I don’t see the point in hiding it or beating around the bush. I missed her, and I wanted her to know.

“Owen.” She breathes my name, and I have the mental image of her doing so while I’m pushing inside her.

“The usual is fine, Layla.”

“You’re later than usual,” she says. She’s yet to write down my order, which is fine. I’m sure she has it memorized.

“I was working today, and I have a proposition for you. I was hoping we could talk when you get off?”

“I’m off in an hour.”

I nod. “We can take a walk on the beach.”

“At night?”

“I’ll protect you,” I tell her with a grin.

“It’s not that I’m scared. I’ve just never done it before.”

“You love the ocean.”

“Yeah, but a woman alone on a quiet beach sounds like a scenario for something bad to happen. I’m careful, Owen.”

“I’m glad that you take precautions. Let me show you the ocean at night,” I say, reaching out and running my thumb over her wrist.

She stares at me for several seconds. “I’d like that. I’ll get this put in,” she says, and rushes away.

I watch as she walks away and see the limp from before is gone. I’m glad to see a new pair of shoes did the trick. A pang of sadness hits me when I think about everything she’s sacrificed to try and make a better life for herself. She’s doing it all on her own. The exhaustion around her eyes and her too-thin body is a strong indication that she’s struggling. Not that I didn’t already know that. I want to take the struggle away from her. I want to bring the light to her eyes and knock some of life’s bricks from her shoulders.

The next hour passes quickly. I eat dinner alone while my eyes scan the restaurant for a glimpse of Layla. She checks on me a few times, and with each moment she steps away from my table, my craving for her burns brighter. Hotter.

“I can’t believe you work this close to the beach and have never taken a walk at night,” I say, lacing my fingers through hers.

“My life growing up was rough, Owen. I saw what the world is capable of. What evil could do. Too many nights I stayed awake with my dresser pressed against my bedroom door to keep the creepy men my mother hung out with from sneaking into my room.”

“Layla.” I stop and turn her to face me. “Did they hurt you?” There is a dark edge to my voice. I don’t know what I’ll do if she says yes. I already feel as though I could commit murder to defend her honor.

“No. I was smart enough to lock them out. Doesn’t mean I didn’t cower in the dark of the night afraid that they would.” Her voice cracks and I act on instinct.

My arms wrap around her, and I pull her into my chest. She doesn’t hesitate to return the embrace. As we stand here in the darkness, nothing but the roaring sea around us, she steals a piece of me, a piece of my heart. “I’ve got you,” I tell her with conviction.

She holds on a little longer before lifting her head. I don’t release my hold on her as her eyes find mine. “Thank you, Owen. I’m sorry I broke down like that. I just… I don’t feel alone when I’m with you.”

“Never again, Layla. You will never be alone again,” I assure her. My hand cups her soft cheek. “I promise you.” More tears fall from her eyes. “Come on.” With my arm around her shoulders, I lead her back to the hotel and to the elevator. She stays snuggled into my side without question. Once we reach my floor, I lead her to my room, pushing the door open for her. She doesn’t hesitate to step into my suite.

“What are we doing?” she asks. Her voice is gravelly from her tears, and I hate it.