Chapter 21
CHAPTER 21
WINTER
I can tell something’s bothering Enzo.
It’s not that he’s said anything unusual or treated me differently. He’s still the same thoughtful, protective Enzo he’s always been—always checking on me to see if I’m feeling okay, hugging me, stroking my hair, kissing me, jumping to get anything he thinks I might need.
Maybe he’s a little over the top with some of it, like rubbing arnica cream on all of my bruises and insisting I relax instead of working on my design projects because you can never be too careful with a head injury .
I don’t have a concussion. The doctor in the emergency room reassured Enzo several times that it was just a nasty bruise and I’d be perfectly fine. But Enzo was beside himself with worry, so if taking it easy made him feel better, I was more than willing to do it.
Besides, I have to admit it was nice being coddled in the beginning. In the immediate aftermath of my abduction—how crazy is it to be abducted twice? It’s like a Lifetime movie or something—I didn’t really want to be left alone.
That first night home, I actually had a mini panic attack when Enzo reluctantly left my side to take a shower. Even though I knew I was safe, my stubborn brain kept interpreting every tiny sound—the hum of the furnace kicking on, the phone buzzing with a text, ice cubes clunking in the freezer—as a sign that someone was trying to take me again.
I didn’t tell Enzo any of that, but I think he could tell. As soon as he came back into the living room, he took one look at my face and rushed over to me, pulling me into his arms and pressing small, desperate kisses to the top of my head. That’s when I realized the separation was just as hard for him as it was for me.
When he finally asked if I was okay, of course I said yes. What was he supposed to do, never take a shower? Never go into a room without me? And what about when he goes back to the store? Will and Ronan are covering for now, but eventually Enzo needs to get back to work. And with the danger gone, it would be odd if I tagged along with him every day when I could get so much more work done in the office at home.
Although I could work in his little office there. But that’s not really going to help me get back to normal life again. And that’s what I want. Normal. Me and Enzo, doing regular couple-y things like we started to before his cousin completely lost it.
I want to go to the Halloween Spooktacular and see all the kids in costumes traipsing up and down Main Street. I want to try Blissful Brews seasonal Halloween porter and go on a haunted hayride around town and then come home to show Enzo the sexy black and orange lingerie I ordered on a whim last week.
I want to volunteer at the community center, helping prepare Thanksgiving meals for families that can’t afford them.
And as much as I love being with Enzo, I want to do some things on my own. Like going to the library and joining one of their book clubs—I looked online and they have a monthly romance lovers one that seems fun. I’d like to visit a few of the local businesses with some samples of my work to see if they’re interested in hiring me. And Sage called me last night to ask if I might want to meet for coffee sometime.
“I don’t know many people in town,” she admitted, “other than the people I work with. I just thought it might be nice, since we’re both relatively new to Bliss. But if you think it would be weird or uncomfortable…”
I don’t think it would be. And I like Sage a lot. So I told her yes, and I’m determined to gather my courage and go into town to meet her next week.
Do I think it’ll be hard? Yes.
But that makes me more determined to prove I can.
I used to do things on my own without thinking twice, and I can do it again.
Although. I might ask Enzo to drive me there and pick me up when I’m done. I think that might help both of us feel better about it.
But before that, before I consider doing anything outside the house, I need to figure out what’s going on with Enzo.
The niggling worry that started two days ago—when I found Enzo staring out the kitchen window, frowning, lines of strain etched into his features—has only grown worse since then.
When he’s with me, he’s the same Enzo as usual. But whenever I catch a glimpse of him alone—in the kitchen, out in the yard, on the porch—he looks like a different person.
He looks upset. Stressed. His shoulders are tense and his jaw is tight. And there’s this dark, distant look in his eyes, like he’s lost in an unpleasant thought. But when I ask if he’s okay, he forces a quick smile and insists everything is just fine.
But his fine is like how I said I was after that shower a few days ago, which makes me think he’s not fine at all.
I’m worried. And I don’t want him to think he has to hide how he’s feeling from me. Yes, I went through a traumatic experience, and I understand how he might think he’s protecting me. But what his cousin did hurt Enzo, too.
And if we’re going to be real partners, Enzo needs to get used to sharing everything with me, even the feelings he used to keep to himself. That’s why I’m going to push him to talk, even if he doesn’t want to, and I really hope it doesn’t backfire on me.
We’re both in the living room, not talking, but enjoying a companionable silence. He’s working on putting together yet another bookcase—it’s going to be a veritable library in here soon, which I love—while I stare at the same page on my Kindle and try to figure how I’m going to start the conversation.
Come right out with it? Or try more of a roundabout way? Do I bring up my feelings first or jump straight to his? Should I be serious or make a little joke about it? How much should I push if he keeps insisting he’s fine?
Ugh. I’m way overthinking this.
So I put my Kindle down and say, “Enzo.”
He sets down his screwdriver and turns to face me. “What, hun?”
“Can we talk?”
His eyebrows jump up. Worry flickers across his face. His jaw twitches. After a brief pause, he replies, “Okay. What’s wrong?”
Why did I say can we talk? That’s literally the worst way to start a conversation. I give Enzo a smile that I hope looks reassuring. “Will you come sit with me?”
“Of course.” He gets off the floor, setting some boards and bolts to the side, and comes over to sit on the couch beside me. “What’s going on?”
I take his hand, lacing my fingers between his. “Nothing’s wrong, exactly. I just wanted to talk. I’m… a little worried.”
“Worried?” Tiny lines etch between his eyes and across his forehead. “What are you worried—” He stops. “Ah, hun.” Gaze softening, he continues, “I understand. But there’s nothing to worry about. Dennis isn’t getting out of jail. Ever. He can’t hurt you again.”
“I know.” Mostly. Except in those panicked moments of weakness.
“Then what is it?” He squeezes my hand. “Is it Thomas?”
“No. It’s not that, either.” Wow. I’m doing a terrible job at this. All I’ve managed to do so far is make Enzo look more worried than before.
His tone gentles. “Winter, you can tell me anything. It’s okay.”
“I’m worried about you.” At his startled expression, I try to explain. “The last few days, you’ve been… different.”
“Different? How? I’m not sure I understand.”
“It’s hard to explain. When you’re with me, everything seems normal. But then I’ll see you alone, like working on the porch railings, or raking the yard, and you look different. Sad. Stressed. Like your mind is a thousand miles away. And… I’m worried.”
Enzo blinks. “You’re worried about me?”
“Of course. It feels like… something’s bothering you. And I wish you’d tell me so I can help.”
He stares at me, his brow furrowing. After a few seconds, he says, “I’m sorry, Winter. I didn’t mean to worry you. Everything’s fine.”
“No, it’s not fine.” I grab his other hand. Holding his gaze, I say, “I know you. Maybe not for years, but it feels like I have. And I can tell something is bothering you. I get that you’re trying to protect me, but don’t. Just like you’re there for me whenever I need, it goes the same way for you.”
My voice rises with emotion. “I don’t think I’m imagining this. Am I? If we’re going to be together, really together, we have to share our feelings. Good and bad.” Sudden fear spears through me. “We are going to be together, right? I thought that’s what we both wanted. Isn’t it?”
The silence before Enzo answers seems like an eternity, even though I know it’s a matter of seconds.
“Ah, hun, of course.” He leans forward and gathers me into his arms. His lips press to the top of my head. When he pulls away, contrition fills his gaze. “Of course I do. I love you. I want to be with you more than anything.”
“Then… will you talk to me? Please?”
He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. “Yes. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize… I thought I was hiding it. But I guess… I shouldn’t have.”
“Hiding what?”
His gaze dips to his lap. “How damn guilty I feel.”
My heart squeezes at his agonized tone. “Enzo. You have nothing to feel guilty about.”
Gaze lifting to meet mine, he asks, “How can you say that? It’s my fault you were there, Winter. He’s my cousin. He wanted my property. If not for me, none of that would have happened. And if not for him, Thomas wouldn’t have been at the store. He wouldn’t have dragged you along and hurt you.”
“But there’s also a good chance I would have still been stuck there.” My stomach lurches at the thought. “If he hadn’t dragged me along, who knows how much longer…”
“Shit.” It’s a low curse.
I move onto Enzo’s lap and hold his gaze. “Is it my fault that Thomas took me?”
His response is immediate. “ No . Of course not.”
“I wondered, for a while. I’d think back, looking for the red flags I missed. For a while, I blamed myself.”
“Winter.”
“But then I realized it didn’t matter if I missed a sign. Thomas is a bad person, and he’s responsible for what he did. Not me. And it’s not my fault for trusting him. It’s his.”
Enzo sighs. “I keep wondering. If I’d just sold to him after Uncle Caleb died?—”
“But you didn’t do anything wrong, Enzo. Your uncle wanted you to have this place. And you made him a promise. I would have made the same decision. Without question.”
“I guess…” He shakes his head. “I know you’re right. Rationally, I do. But seeing you there, in danger… it’s hard not to blame myself. And—” A long pause. “It brings back some old memories, too. Things I still feel guilty about.”
“Like what?”
“My uncle. Not being here when he was sick. I know he didn’t tell me, but I still feel shitty about it. And before that… you’ve heard me talk about Jeff.”
“Your teammate. The one who was killed in action.”
“Yeah.” Sorrow darkens his gaze. “Jeff was our explosives expert. He could disarm anything. But we got stuck in this building that was filled with bombs. Jeff thought he could get us out by disarming one. I had a bad feeling, but he insisted he could do it.”
The pain in Enzo’s eyes makes my chest ache. And I’m seized by an instinctive need to be closer to him. Just sitting like this isn’t enough. I need to wrap myself around Enzo like a protective blanket, to hug him and trail soft kisses along his neck. To give him my strength, just as he’s given to me.
Once I’m situated, Enzo embraces me, his breath feathering over my hair. For a minute, we just sit quietly, as Enzo strokes his hand down my back. Then he says, “He didn’t make it, obviously. And I kept wondering; what if I’d tried harder to convince him? Would Jeff have listened?”
“Enzo…”
“I know, he made the choice. And it’s what we all signed up for. But the guilt… it stuck with me. And then Uncle Caleb… That’s why I didn’t ask you out the first time I saw you. I was still struggling, and I didn’t think I could handle a relationship then.”
My throat goes thick. “I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t be. There’s nothing to be sorry about. I just wish I’d manned up sooner. If I hadn’t waited… maybe you would have dated me instead of Thomas. And he never would have done those terrible things to you.”
Now it all makes sense. Now I understand why Enzo’s been quiet. Why he’s been upset. And it hurts to know he’s been struggling with it on his own. But I understand. For a guy like Enzo, he’s not used to sharing things like that. Things he might consider a weakness.
Not that they are. Not even a little.
Lifting my head from his shoulder, I cup Enzo’s jaw and look at him steadily. “You did nothing wrong. Nothing . Not when Jeff died, and not with your uncle. And your uncle… I bet he would be so proud of you. So proud.”
A hint of moisture dampens his eyes. “Winter…”
“And it wasn’t your fault, what Dennis did. I promise. I understand feeling guilty. Trust me. I felt that way about my parents for a long time. But—” My voice firms. “It is not your fault. And if you start to feel that way, talk to me, okay? When I’m having a hard time, or you are, we can work through these things together. We’re a team.”
Before Enzo can reply, I add one more thing. “Also, I would really love it if you’d come to counseling with me sometimes. I think it would help to have you there. And it might help you, too. Will you think about it?”
Enzo stares at me, a depth of emotion in his gaze. Then he says, “Yes, I’ll go with you. I think you’re right. It could help. And if I want you to tell me everything, it’s only fair I do the same.”
Warmth swells in my chest and my heart feels like a balloon expanding to infinity.
I love him so much.
“I love you.” After I press my lips to his, I repeat, “I love you so much. And I’ll do anything to make you happy. Anything.”
“Ah, Winter.” Enzo swallows hard. “I didn’t know it was possible to love someone this much. I love you with all my heart. Anything you need. Anything you want. I’ll find a way to give it to you.”
Tears press behind my eyes, and my nose prickles. But this time, it’s a good feeling. It’s because I found the one person in the world who fits me.
“I think I know what you could give me.”
“Oh?” He raises his eyebrows. “What’s that?”
My lips curve up. “I’d really like to make love to you. We haven’t in three days, and that’s much too long. Do you think that would be okay?”
With an answering smile, Enzo nods. The lingering pain in his eyes fades away. He leans in to kiss me, first tenderly, then more demanding. His tongue strokes the seam of my lips, teasing them open and plunging inside. One hand cups the back of my head, his fingers threading through my hair.
As we continue kissing, he hardens under me, pressing against the growing ache between my thighs. My nipples go taut as they brush against Enzo’s chest, my hyper-sensitized skin sending sizzles of arousal through my body.
Enzo groans, low and deep in his throat.
My womb clenches, desperate to feel him inside me.
In one move, Enzo stands with me still glued to him. One hand moves to palm my ass, the other supports my back.
He ends the kiss, and I gasp for the breath I forgot to take.
His gaze holds mine, and I can see everything he’s feeling. Love. Trust. Need.
With a grin, he finally answers, “Yes. I think that would absolutely be okay.”