Out of Love by

“You’re taking trespassing to a whole new level.”

“Shit!” I whipped around at the eerily calm but stern voice behind me.

Jericho stood from his bed and took his place at Slade’s side as if he needed to pick a team.

“You let her in. Why?” He kept his intense gaze on me, but the question was for Jericho.

“He was b-barking. I-I hadn’t heard him bark before. So … I just wanted to check on him.” My voice shook like the rest of my body. With the front door a few feet to my left, I knew I could probably make a mad dash if necessary, but the chances of my sweaty hand unlocking it in time were slim at best.

He pushed the long sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, showing me those veins. I curled my lips together to hide their uncontrolled trembling. How could one man make me feel so protected and utterly terrified at the same time?

“Are you going to cry?”

My eyes widened as I shook my head a half dozen times.

“Are you cold?”

My wide eyes narrowed at him. “What? No.”

“You’re shivering.”

We were having a conversation. Sort of. I was uninvited and shaking like the San Andres Fault waking up. He moved his lips and actual sounds came out. Good words that didn’t feel threatening. I didn’t know what to do with his curious way of communicating or showing concern.

“You make me …” I hugged my arms to my torso.

He took three steps forward, keeping two small steps between us. I could feel the heat of his sweaty body.

“I make you what?”

My gaze stopped mid-chest, unable to withstand the weight of his stare. “Nervous,” I murmured.

“You’re in my house without permission. You should be scared.”

“No.” I forced my gaze to his face. “Not scared.” My head inched side to side. “Nervous. Like …” I risked a step closer to him. “Butterflies.”

“You’re delusional.”

I lifted a shoulder and dropped it on a slow exhale. “Feelings are real, not delusional. I think pretending you don’t have feelings is what’s truly delusional.”

He studied me with an unreadable expression—not that I could ever really read him, but that particular expression was new.

Contemplative.

Distant.

Subdued.

“You need to go.”

My gaze flitted along the sculpted lines of his stubble-covered jaw and the prominent angle of his cheekbones while I fisted my hands, holding back the need to touch him. “Yeah.” I smiled before hunching down to massage Jericho behind his ears and cupping my hands to smooth them up to the pointy tips. “Love you, Jerry.” Stretching forward, I kissed the top of his head and stood up again. “I’m sorry. I overstepped.”

Before he could respond—not that I think he had anything left to say—I unlocked the front door and opened it, pausing for a second with my back to him. “A month ago … something bad happened to me. It could have been worse, but someone saved me. I know you either heard about it or you were there. If you heard about it, and that’s why you’ve been letting Jericho watch over me … then I want to say thank you. If you were the one who saved me, then …” Tears filled my eyes.

I still hadn’t told my family.

I still had trouble sleeping.

I still felt a constant fear when I went someplace alone.

“Well …” I swallowed the emotion building in my throat. “Then there are no words for what that means to me. Bye, Wylder.”Chapter SevenA wet suit, my board, and good friends awaited me when I walked up the street.

“Seriously … what have you been doing? You went in his house?” Missy eyed me with suspicion. “Voluntarily?”

I grinned. “Yes. Voluntarily. And probably illegally.” My nose scrunched, remembering how my heart nearly exploded when he caught me.

“Dude, you broke into his house?” Kara’s jaw dropped as she tossed a bag into the back of the SUV.

“I entered his house uninvited. Nothing was broken. Let me go change. Give me five minutes.”

We spent three hours fighting the choppy waves, bailing, paddling forever, and waiting in the Friday line. There was a reason I preferred dawn patrol.

“That was not fun.” Missy sighed when we piled into the vehicle to make the trip home—windows down, heater on, music blaring.

“It was brutal.” I tried to run my fingers through my hair, but it was not happening.

“This song is everything.” Missy played her list that was only a third country.

“It is.” I leaned my head back in the passenger seat and closed my eyes as James Arthur serenaded us with “Falling Like The Stars.” My aspirations to climb the political ladder straight to the top didn’t deter me from wanting everything.

Kids and an adoring husband—the kind that never let me forget why I fell in love with him.

One of the things I would never forget about my parents is the way my dad loved my mom so completely, and he never hid it. He worshiped her with every look and every touch. At the time, I thought their PDA was a little gross.