I stared into the darkness and thought about what the hell was going on. My dad knew about Emory, knew she meant something to me. I knew that because of his fucking phone calls, but I knew now he had Emory’s number. I’d heard her phone beep from her bag and I’d pulled it out, worried she might miss a call from her son. The number that had come up as a text had my body tensing and my fists clenching. Somehow dad, the fucker, had sent her a text.
Heard your son’s a midshipman. You raised a son your way, I raised one my way.
It wasn’t overtly threatening to make the police take notice, but he had to know she’d show it to me and piss me off. It had worked, but I had to calm my rage and think. Just because he was an asshole, did that mean he’d break into Emory's house? Hell, no. He’d send someone to do it for him. But would he resort to harming her or just scaring the shit out of her? Either way, it was fucked up. She was my Achilles’ heel and he knew it. He was using her to get at me and it was working.
I’d called Reed while she was in the shower to get an update, told him about the text. He had a guy already replace Emory’s door and would deliver the keys to the new deadbolt to the gym in the morning. Emory’s house was locked up once again, but for how long? Would the guy try again? If it was my dad that had arranged it, what would he do next? He wouldn’t try to break in again, but that didn’t mean Emory was safe. Until this fucking mess was cleared up, she was staying with me.
That’s what I'd been telling Reed when she came out of the bathroom, all flushed pink, clean and in my clothes. The sight of her in my T-shirt and boxers was one of the hottest things I’d ever seen. It wasn’t the most alluring of outfits, but Emory didn’t need lingerie to make her sexy. It didn’t take much to make me hot for her, she just had to be in the room. Hell, I got hard just thinking about her or getting a whiff of tropical shampoo.
If it was my dad, then I’d brought my troubles to Emory, put her in danger. She’d climbed out her window and down a fucking emergency ladder to get away. What would have happened if her son hadn’t been a Boy Scout? What if…there was a never-ending line of what-if’s. The biggest one was, what if I’d never met her? If we hadn’t met at the engagement party last weekend, it was possible she wouldn’t be in danger. The fucking kicker was, she wanted to be in my arms, and yet it appeared to be all my fault.
I should let her go, should forget I ever met her, in order to protect her. To protect her from…me. But when she stirred in my arms, whimpering in her sleep, I knew I couldn’t do it. She began to thrash and fight against my arm and I realized she was having a nightmare.
I turned her so she lay on her back, my arm stroking over her belly. My T-shirt had bunched up and my thumb brushed over the smooth skin just above the rolled up waistband of my boxers.
“Emory, shh.”
“No!” she cried, her eyes closed, a V formed at her brow.
“Emory!” I said, my voice loud enough to hopefully penetrate her sleep. “Come on, baby, wake up. You’re safe. Shh.”
Her eyes flew open and she looked up at the ceiling, the dream still clinging to her. I continued to circle my hand, to show her my touch was gentle and safe as I loomed over her. Her eyes eventually focused on my face and I knew then she was awake.
“Gray?” She swallowed. “God, I had a nightmare.”
“No one’s going to get you here. You’re safe with me.”
Her tense muscles relaxed, her dark eyes laced with sleep and worry. “Will you…will you just hold me?”
Brushing a lock of hair from her forehead, I nodded. I lay back on the bed and held out my hand. “Come here,” I murmured.
She took it and I helped her turn so she fit snugly up against my side, my shoulder her pillow and her top leg tangled with mine. Her hand rested on my chest…my bare chest and the feel of it was…incredible. Reaching down, I tugged the blankets up.
Her body stilled, her breathing evened and I thought she’d fallen back asleep.
“Can I…can I ask you a question?” Her voice was soft, almost tentative.
“Mmm?” My eyes were closed, just reveling in the feel of her.
“Is it always like this? I mean, this between us, it’s happening so fast.” Her finger swirled idly over my chest. She must have realized what she was doing because she clasped her hand into a fist, as if she was unsure of whether she had liberty to do so. I put my hand on top of hers.
“It’s never been like this, baby.”
She sighed and I felt her breasts pressing into my side. “It’s nothing like what they say.”
“What?” I prodded.
“Games and waiting a day to call and putting out to keep the guy interested and—”
I knew what she was talking. I knew more women than I wanted to remember who wanted to get laid by the MMA hot shot, The Green Machine, more than Grayson Green. I’d played the games myself, all because I didn’t really give a shit. But now…? “This, between you and me…it’s…between you and me. No one else. There’s no comparison.” The answer seemed to settle her. “Sleep. I’m not going anywhere.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
EMORY
I came awake slowly, at first unbelievably comfortable and cozy, but then I realized my head wasn’t on a pillow, but tucked into a shoulder. Gray’s shoulder. The front half of my body was plastered against him. He was warm, yet hard all over, his muscles like steel beneath the softness of his skin. Gray was on his back sound asleep and I took the opportunity to look at him. We’d only held hands and kissed and I’d never seen him undressed. This was the first glimpse I had of his body and I could do it freely. His whiskers were dark on his jaw, his lashes and brows equally dark. Even in sleep he was formidable. I could see the tattoo on his chest now, a swirling pattern that began on his left pec and curved around his ribs and onto his back. He had a smattering of hair on his chest, then tapered over the rigid curves of his abs to form a dark line below his navel. It traveled beneath the waistband of his boxers and I felt myself flush, wondering what the rest of him looked like.
Now wasn’t the time to find out. He deserved his rest after the night I put him through. I remembered crying all over him, then waking up from a nightmare at some point during the night. He’d been there, holding me each time. I felt safe and…wanted when I was with him. It was the first time in years I’d had someone to grab on to, who’d let me cry, who let me be weak. While I’d had Chris, I’d been alone, being strong for my son when I felt like being anything but. With Gray, I didn’t have to pretend, didn’t have to be invincible because I knew he could be strong for us both.