Chapter 9
I t’s way past the time that she usually goes to bed, and I notice the way her eyes keep flicking away from the TV screen over to me like she has something on her mind.
“Ya have fun with Savannah today?” I ask, knowing how spirited Cole’s woman can be.
“We had a great time. I felt her baby move.” She smiles excitedly.
“I’m glad to hear that. She can be loud and outspoken, but she’s got her heart in the right place,” I tell her, hoping that maybe this could be the start of her letting the girls get closer.
“She was kind to me.” Everleigh nods her head, looking deep in thought.
“Well, that's all that matters.” I settle back into my chair and drink my beer.
“Mitch…” She sits up a little straighter, suddenly seeming nervous.
“I want to speak about what happened last night, and this morning.” She clears her throat, and as I watch the heat creep up her neck I feel bad for the fact it’s getting my dick hard.
“Look, darlin’, I never meant to cross any bound?—”
“I liked it.” She shocks the hell outta me when her voice blurts over the top of mine.
Her eyes shut tight as if she’s just confessed some kinda sin, and I know there's an inappropriate grin picking up on my face because I’m really struggling to keep it down.
“I felt safe like they couldn’t get me, and I…”
“You didn’t have any bad dreams,” I finish her sentence for her when I think back to how peaceful she looked in my arms.
“I hate going back there.” A tear slips over her cheek, and I feel that knot of anger in my stomach ball up tighter when I think about the asshole that did this to her.
“They can’t get ya here, they don’t even exist anymore. Listen…” I move across and sit on the couch beside her. “You need to leave everything that happened at that place back there with it. You have a chance of a new life.”
“Here, with you?” She looks up at me with those big, blue eyes and I swear they wrap a chain around my heart.
“Wherever you want it.” I’ve got used to coming home to her and having her around. I’ve even got used to the screaming she does while she sleeps. It feels good to be her protector, to be the voice that calls her back from the dark. Up until now, the girl’s been so closed off I never even thought about how it might feel to lose her.
“I like it here, and I like you.” She lays her hand over mine, and suddenly I’m the one who’s nervous. I don’t know what this is, or if she’s thinking the same way as me. I’m old enough to be the girl’s father. Maybe she sees me like one, and I don’t wanna be her fuckin’ daddy.
“This place is gonna be your home for as long as you need it,” I assure her of the one thing I can guarantee.
“And you, will you always be here?” she asks.
I look down to where our hands touch, and having her trust feels like the most precious gift in the world. I wanna protect that too.
“Until the day you tell me not to be.” I smile at her, stroking over her skin with my thumb and praying to God that day never comes, because whatever brought this pretty, vulnerable girl into my life, seems to have suddenly given me my purpose.
“If I asked you to lay beside me again tonight, would you?” she asks, her eyelashes fluttering and her skin turning pink.
“Sweetheart, I wouldn’t deny you a damn thing.” I smile.
She grips hold of my hand as she stands up, and I look up at her, wondering how the fuck something so beautiful and innocent could seek her comfort from a man like me.
“I’m going to change into my nightdress, I’ll call you in when I’m ready.” She blushes before she releases me and moves toward her room.
I wait until she closes the door before I let go of my fuckin’ breath.
I don’t know what’s happening here, but it feels intense, and dare I say it, scary . I’d forgotten what fear felt like until I met her.
I should tell her that me lying beside her is a bad idea, that the thoughts that go through my mind can sometimes get real unholy, but the idea of me being the person who makes her feel safe has me getting on my feet when she opens the door and smiles at me again.
Stepping toward her, she follows me with her eyes when I pass her at the door.
“You got a side you prefer?” I ask as I take off my jeans. This girl’s seen me in my boxers before so I figure she won’t mind.
“No.” She shakes her head as she takes her hair out of its braid and timidly watches me strip outta the shirt I’m wearing. I keep on the white tee that I’ve got on underneath, and after I move around the bed, so I’m lying closest to the door, I pull back the covers and get in.
I try not to stare at her in the long, cotton gown that falls all the way to her ankles, and when she sinks to her knees beside the bed and presses her palms together I watch in fascination as she says her prayers.
“God bless Mitch for being my protection. God bless the Carson family for allowing me to be here. God bless the Dirty Souls for saving me, and God bless my sister.” Her voice weakens and I see another tear streak down her face before she opens her eyes and stands back on her feet.
“You say your prayers every night, darlin’?” I ask, wonderin’ how the hell she just made talkin’ to God look so damn hot.
“Every night,” she assures me as she joins me under the covers, leaving a very respectable gap between us.
“And do you always?—”
“You’re always in them,” she answers the question before I can finish it.
“That’s kind of ya, but I think I’m long past savin’.” I chuckle to myself but hold on to the warm, comforting feeling of knowing I’m in her prayers.
“No one’s past saving, I’m proof of that.” There's hope in the smile she makes for me. “Do you want to know a secret?” She angles her body so it’s facing me.
“Of course.” I frown suspiciously. I wanna know everything about her, even all the parts that made her broken. Maybe then I could fix her.
“I used to hate God. I used to wonder why He demanded such cruel things. I didn’t praise Him, I feared Him,” she admits.
“And now?” I study her.
“Now I realize you were right. God wasn’t speaking through those men. They used His name, and our faith in it, to fulfill their own desires.”
“And your sister? You mentioned her in your prayers there. Have you stopped hating her too?” Maybe if she has, she’ll wanna be reunited with her, and it proves how selfish I’ve become that I don’t want that to happen.
“I don’t hate Addison, at least I don’t think I do. To hate her would be selfish. I just…” She closes her eyes and shakes her head. “I can’t explain it.” I realize that she’s pushing herself too hard.
“Hey, you don’t have to explain anythin’ to me, I was just being curious,” I assure her. “Just get yourself some sleep.”
To lean in and kiss those pretty, rose-colored lips would be the most natural thing in the world right now, but I ignore all my urges and twist my body to turn off the lamp.
“Wait… I need that to stay on. I don’t like the dark.” She stops me.
“Sure.” I look back over my shoulder at her before resting back on my pillow and staring up at the ceiling. Everleigh rolls onto her side, facing away from me and I already know that lying this close to her is gonna make for a long night.
“Mitch,” she whispers my name after a few minutes of silence.
“Yeah, darlin’?”
“Tell me one of your memories, a happy one.” She speaks softly, and staring at the back of her head makes me wanna stroke my fingers through her hair. It’s grown so long since she’s been here and it looks real soft.
“Okay.” I search around in my head and try to come up with something that will make her laugh. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her laugh before.
“There was this one time when Dalton was younger. I’d taken him to the rodeo, and he came home sure that he was gonna be a bull rider. The next morning, he got up early and decided to get himself practicin’, put himself in the pen with a bull we were waiting to put out to pasture. We called him Old Ronnie because he was a grumpy, old fucker like Old Man Mason.” I smile to myself when I remember the kid’s enthusiasm.
“And how did he do?” she asks, sounding intrigued.
“He didn’t. Old Ronnie just kept charging him around the pen, eventually the grumpy, old bastard pinned him into a corner and tossed him out. Dalton took a horn to the ass cheek as a hard lesson, and never tried to be a bull rider again.”
Her shoulders start to shake and the sound that comes outta her mouth is addictive.
“Poor kid could barely sit down for a month.” I laugh a little too, until that sting that reminds me I’ll never see him again hits.
“Thank you.” She closes her eyes and pulls the covers up to her chin, and as I lay here looking at her, thinking about how perfect she is, I wonder if maybe she could be the person who takes that sting away.