Mine Now (The Phantom Vipers MC)

20. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Blake

Hunter sits back in his chair and crosses one leg over the other. His foot bounces quickly up and down in a nervous rhythm.

He’s holding something back.

I can tell by the way he chews on the inside of his lip that he doesn’t want to talk about what is bothering him. I recognize that look-the way someone swallows down emotions so they don't leak out where others can see. I’ve done it for years.

But I need to know what I am dealing with.

The look he had on his face when Charlie hugged him was unsettling. Not because I thought he would hurt her, but because for a split second he looked like a man that was barely holding himself together. I don't know if that makes him dangerous or just broken.

I swallow against the lump in my throat. I have to be careful. I always have to be careful. Reading people, anticipating their moods before they turn has been something I have been good at for as long as I can remember. It has protected me.

Seeing how anxious he is, I decide to scoot my chair closer to him. His body seems to relax with my proximity. Without thinking I reach up and run my fingers through his hair, hesitant at first then more deliberate. I know what anxiety feels like-the way your own body betrays you, winding you tight like a coil with nowhere to release. When I am anxious I need stimulation to get outside my own thoughts. I bite my nails, fidget with my fingers and twist my hair around my fingers till it knots. Maybe it will help him too.

If he will let me.

He pulls away “What are you doing?” he asks.

“Can you just trust me for a second?” I tilt my head.

He tenses his jaw and then nods. I take this as permission to continue and run my fingers through his hair and he doesnt pull away this time. Instead he tilts his head up looking at the sky and then lets out a harsh breath. And I don't know if it’s relief or surrender or something else entirely.

With each caress, I slowly feel him softening, and his eyes begin to close.

He clears his throat. “It has been long enough now that I shouldn’t feel the pain that I do each time her memory comes up.” He shakes his head. “But I don’t think time will ever be able to heal this wound.” He glances over at me with sorrowful eyes. Eyes that look like they could consume me the longer I gaze into them. “My daughter died six years ago.”

I gasp, my hand stalling its movements before I begin again. So many questions form in my mind, but before I have a chance to ask them, he continues.

“My little girl was only five when she was taken from me.” I can see the tears form in his eyes. “She was beautiful. Kind, loving, happy: a fucking perfect child,” he croaks. “We used to call her moo growing up.” He softly chuckles. “She used to moo at every freaking cow she saw. Even when she was a baby, she would moo. I never understood why that was her favorite thing to do.” He shakes his head.

“Maybe that was her favorite animal,” I say softly.

“Na, that was bees. She had a silly obsession with those devil insects.”

I scrunch my nose. “Wasn’t she afraid of them?” I think about how Charlie screams and cries when a bee flies even remotely close to her.

“Nope. Hell, I think the bees were more afraid of her than anything. She would chase them around the yard.” He laughs. “This one time when she was three, one of the bees she was chasing finally stung her back. She cried, of course. But it wasn’t because she got stung. She was in full-blown meltdown mode because she had killed the bee. She knew that when it stung her, it would die, and she apologized to the bee.” He lowers his bouncing foot to the deck. “A fucking bee… she apologized to a fucking bee.”

I watch him as he crumbles in front of me, and the tears seep out of his eyes before he puts his face in his hands and leans forward.

I am at a loss for what to do. Should I hug him or soothe his pain? Should I quietly slip inside or away from him? I pull my hand from his hair and rest it in my lap.

The thought of losing Charlie is almost more than I can bear. How does anyone survive something so horrific?

I quietly stand from my chair and walk toward the back door. He will probably want to be alone while this is happening to him. Even though the thought crosses my mind, it doesn’t stop me from reaching out and gently caressing my fingers through his hair once more. I just want to bring him a tiny amount of comfort. I can’t even imagine his grief. I still don’t know exactly what happened to his daughter, but any loss of a child is the worst thing imaginable.

He grips my wrist in one hand, and soon I fall, only to be caught by his other arm and pulled onto his lap so that both my legs are on either side of his. I’m straddling him. I have no time to protest before he buries his face into my neck and squeezes me around my waist. The position feels very intimate. The way he wraps his arms around me and holds me to him like I am his lifeline softens me a bit as I relax against him. Before I can ask him why he is doing this, he answers me.

“Your smell is comforting,” he grumbles against my neck.

I am at his mercy. I want to fight it. I should want him to get his hands off of me. But something inside me knows he needs this tender moment in his life. I lean back and trace the side of his face from his temple to the top of his beard with my fingertip. I trace the lines that this hard life has given him on his brow, and he instantly closes his eyes to my touch.

God, his lips are so fucking kissable right now. The way his bottom lip pouts just a little and the way his mouth— “The way you're looking at me right now is dangerous, Crash.” His breath splashes across my chin, and my gaze flicks to his.

With heated cheeks, I shake my head. I need to get off his lap but I dont want this moment to end . He was just crying about his daughter. I shouldn’t be thinking about those pouty lips on me. Or how good he feels wrapped around me like this.

I scramble to my feet, and he releases me without a fight. “I have to check on Charlie.” I squeak and rush for the door. Where he was once wrapped around my body and I was made to feel whole, now there is an emptiness I wasn’t expecting.

What the hell was I thinking?

My heart is still pounding as I walk down the hall, my skin still tingling where his hands had been. I should have stopped it before I let myself want more. But I didn't, because for those few stolen seconds, I felt safe.