Chapter 13 Willow #2
Ransom knows that, and I can see it on his face as he meets my eyes in the mirror. There’s a flare of heat there, turning the blue-green depths just a bit darker.
For a second, neither of us moves, locked in this moment, and my heart beat speeds up a bit, not with anticipation, but with something like dread.
But then Ransom clears his throat and visibly holds himself back. He swallows hard and then smiles, moving in closer to do up the zipper.
His touch is careful, not straying more than it needs to in order to get the zipper up, but it still makes goosebumps spread over my skin. Just the proximity of him in the dressing room, the small space filled suddenly with the scent of him, makes me wish things were different.
“There you go,” Ransom says, stepping back, putting distance between us. “I like the color on you, but I’m not sure about the cut of it. You’re gorgeous in anything, but this dress is kind of shapeless. What do you think?”
He pushes his hands into his pockets, and he doesn’t seem upset, just waiting for my opinion on the dress.
The way he is with me now, the patience he and his brothers have for me, it makes my heart swell. I watch him in the mirror, and the words bubble up before I can even think about them, almost as natural as breathing.
I meet his gaze in the mirror. “I love you.”
I can see the second the words hit him, and Ransom reacts immediately. His eyes flare with pleasure, and a huge grin breaks out over his handsome face. He’s shining with pure joy, so intense and happy it’s like basking in the sun to see it.
His hands come up to my shoulders, and I don’t flinch as he turns me around to face him.
“Say it again,” he says.
So I do. “I love you, Ransom.”
He takes in a deep breath, and his eyes are shining. He looks like the words have hit him right in the chest, and he even puts a hand up over where his heart is, like he’s trying to keep all his feelings from pouring out all over the place.
I watch his face, captivated by how open and full of emotion he looks right now.
Finally, he just grins, his eyes searching my face for a second. “I love you too,” he says. “This is going to sound crazy, but go with me, okay?”
“Okay,” I reply, laughing a little.
“I think a part of me loved you since the first moment I saw you. That moment we met on the street and you had been crying, remember?”
I nod, breathless with the knowledge that he remembers all that.
It feels like it was so long ago. Like it happened to someone else.
So much is different now, and I couldn’t have imagined back then that I would have ended up with the very handsome man who stopped to talk to me that night.
Or that I’d want to. Everything about him had screamed predator, and now I know that he—and his brothers—can be dangerous when they want to be, but that there’s so much more to them than that.
Ransom grins even brighter. “I threatened to beat someone up for making you cry, and I meant it, even then. Even then I had the urge to protect you.”
“Why?” I ask him.
“Well, back then I thought you looked sweet. I thought that anyone who would make you cry deserved to get their fucking ass kicked because you didn’t deserve it. Now… now my brothers and I would do anything to protect you, Willow. Whatever it took.”
“I know,” I murmur softly. “I know you would.” They’ve more than proved that. They somehow found me when Troy had me locked away. They managed to kill him and pull me out of that hell, and I’m forever grateful to them for that and all the other rescues they’ve pulled off for me.
“I appreciate it more than I can say,” I tell him.
Ransom shakes his head. “You don’t have to say it. We know. Malice, Vic, and I are all different people. We’re brothers, but we’re not really that similar.”
I grin. “You’re telling me.”
“And somehow, you’re still our perfect match. You fit with us so well. All of us. No other woman could say the same. You’re just so perfect, Willow.”
“Even… even though I’m like this now?” I ask him, somehow needing to make sure. It’s silly, since he’s saying all this now, even after what happened to me, but I just need to hear it. “Even though I’m all broken, and you can’t even touch me?”
“Willow,” Ransom says firmly. “Nothing would make you less than perfect to us. I can speak for my brothers when I say that. It’s not about being able to touch you, and you’ve been through something fucking awful. No one’s holding that against you. It doesn’t change you. Who you are inside.”
I look up at him, confused. “But I feel like a completely different person.”
“Maybe some things about you are different,” he allows.
“Maybe it’s going to take some time for you to get back to who you think you’re supposed to be.
Maybe you have to heal some before you can like the things you used to like.
But the parts of you that we fell for? The parts that make you Willow Hayes, badass bitch and sweetheart?
All of that is still there. It might feel further away right now, but it’s not gone. Nothing could kill that in you.”
He sounds so sure of himself, so determined to get me to hear what he’s saying and believe it, and that, combined with everything else he’s said, makes my heart swell. It’s everything I needed to hear right now, and I lean up, putting my arms around his neck so I can kiss him.
Ransom kisses me back, responding immediately. As if I needed it, his almost instinctual response is just more proof that he always craves me. That even what Troy did to me and all the horrible abuse he put me through will never stop Ransom from wanting to be with me.
But as soon as his mouth comes alive over mine, I tense up.
Ransom presses in closer, deepening the kiss, and my stomach coils with fear and nausea. For a split second, I’m back in that house, and it’s not Ransom holding me close, kissing me because he loves me, but Troy, holding me down and kissing me because he can.
I squeeze my eyes shut tighter and drag a ragged breath in through my nose. I try to fill my lungs with Ransom’s unique scent, letting it chase away the bad memories so I can push through this.
I want this. I want to be able to kiss and touch my men the way I used to. I want to go back to being the uninhibited sexual creature I discovered inside myself thanks to them. I fought so hard for that, to be comfortable and not shame myself for my desires.
Being held captive by the trauma Troy inflicted on me feels like taking a giant step back.
I must make some noise or go stiff or something. Some way that Ransom can tell. Even though I try to keep going, clinging on and kissing him harder, as if I can brute force my way past my trauma and find some pleasure on the other side… Ransom knows better.
He gently pulls back and unwinds my arms from around his neck. He kisses my knuckles softly before releasing my hands, so tender and understanding.
And then takes a step back, putting more distance between us.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt, the words spilling out of me. “I’m trying—I don’t want it to be like this.”
“Willow.” His voice is soft. “It’s okay.
One day, I’ll fuck you like you want. My brothers and I will erase every memory of Troy left on your body.
We’ll remind you who you are and why we love you, and it’ll be fucking amazing.
We’ll overwrite every bad thing that’s happened by worshiping you like the goddess you are.
But not yet. When you’re ready, and not before. ”
“What if… what if it takes too long?” I ask, unable to hold back. “What if—”
“Then we’ll wait,” Ransom replies, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “We’d wait forever for you, pretty girl.”
It’s just as sincere as the words he used to tell me he loves me, and all I can do is nod, tears burning in my eyes.
His expression hardens a bit, and he lets out a shaky breath.
“That fucker got off too easy,” he says darkly. “I wish I could go back and make him hurt the way you’re hurting. Vic and Mal both got their chances to make him bleed, and I wish I could’ve taken a turn too. He deserved to suffer way more for what he did to you.”
“You’re starting to sound like Malice now,” I say, smiling a little. “That’s both your brothers in one day.”
Ransom huffs a laugh, the harsh edge of anger bleeding out of his face. “Don’t say that. I have to be the rational one of the three of us, or we’ll never get anything done.”
“I think you guys take turns being the rational one.” I pause, considering. “Or at least, you and Vic do.”
He laughs again, and the tension in the little dressing room starts to ease. The moment breaks, and he tucks my hair behind my ears as we smile at each other.
“I don’t think this is the dress,” I say, finally answering his earlier question.
“Agreed.” He moves in to help me with the zipper without being asked. “On to the next one, then.”
It’s easier than it probably should be, to go back to dress shopping after that.
The weight of our conversation is still there, the meaningfulness of the words we spoke lingering in the air between us, but we focus on other things for the moment.
Ransom stays in the dressing room with me while I try on more dresses, helping me get into them and take them off.
In the end, the gold dress wins out, and he looks very pleased with himself as I survey my reflection.
“I told you,” he says. “You shine. Nothing could dim your light when you look this good.”
“I do like it…” I chew my lip, gazing at our reflections in the mirror.
“Then we’re getting it.”
His decisive tone makes me grin. I love how all he cares about is whether I like something, whether it makes me happy.
And as long as it does, then he wants it for me too.
I don’t even bother to look at the price tag, since I know it’ll probably make my heart stop—and the truth is, I can afford it now.
Besides, I’m basically buying myself armor to wear to my first meeting with Olivia since the wedding.
So it’s worth splurging on whatever makes me feel the most confident and powerful.
I slip out of the dress, and Ransom hangs it back on a hanger as I pull on my street clothes. Then we step out of the dressing room and head to the register to purchase the dress.
On the way out of the shop, Ransom wraps an arm around me, and the small touch doesn’t make me flinch or tense up the way I’m expecting it to. I can even lean into his side a little as we head back to the car with the garment bag in tow.
It feels like progress.
Not quite as much as I’d like to have made, but progress all the same.