Chapter 21
I’m getting whiplash. We’re dancing around each other, pulling too close and then pushing too far.
It’s been four days since his accident, and three since I was chased in the woods.
They sent a few deputies from the department to come out and search the woods — thankfully not Oscar because after that last encounter, I can’t handle the awkwardness — but of course they found nothing, and I know nothing more now than I did then.
But I see him watching me. I see how he watches me, but I pretend I don’t.
I’m sure he’s purposely putting himself in my path too.
Just like this morning while I was making coffee, when he came right up to my back to reach over my head for a coffee mug.
He was shirtless, still in a pair of sweats since he’s had to limit how much work he can do on the ranch while his ribs heal, and his heat had wrapped around me.
“Morning,” He rasped gruffly. “Sleep okay?”
I’d mumbled a reply and scurried away but not before I got a look at the bruising that covered half of his back and wrapped around his side, over his ribs, a mix of purples and blues and yellows.
I’ve only worked a few hours over the past four days too.
I’ve made the excuse that it was for Pumpkin, she’s still so little and is rather demanding for a cat that was meant to be somewhat feral, but in reality every time I left, I worried about Roman.
It’s not even like he’s alone out here; he has the men who work for him and his brothers.
Yet every time I got in my car, I got straight back out, mumbled an excuse as to why I was still here and subtly watched him all day to make sure he didn’t need anything.
“So stupid,” I mutter to myself, my steps a little angry as I come back from the barn.
“Woah,” Remy chuckles from the back of a white and gray horse. “Who are you calling stupid?”
I roll my lips and look up at the youngest Knight brother. “I was talking about myself.”
“Now that’s no way to talk about my sister-in-law,” He tuts, running his fingers over his mustache. “Don’t know if you know, but ‘round here we protect family. I won’t have you badmouthing family.”
A sudden laugh erupts from me, I can’t help it. I grin up at him with a shake of my head. “Clever.”
“That’s my middle name, darlin’,” He winks.
A sudden shrill whistle cuts through the air, and we both turn our heads to the house where Roman is standing on the porch, his hands wrapped so tightly around the banister, the skin across his knuckles has turned white.
The smile on my face drops when I glimpse the hard look on his face. He looks pissed.
“Oop,” Remy clucks his tongue. “Who pissed him off?”
“Don’t look at me,” I defend, “I haven’t even been in the house today.”
“Maybe that’s the problem.” His wide shoulders shrug.
He turns his horse around, leaving me to deal with his brother. Other than the few run-ins and me watching him when he isn’t looking, I have been successful in avoiding him. I don’t want to go and do something stupid again like; I don’t know, climb him like a tree.
He jerks his chin in a request I come to him and then turns and heads back into the house. At least the man is dressed now, I suppose, even if I do miss looking at all that hard, defined muscle.
My steps are a little less angry and more hesitant as I make my way up the few porch steps. I find him in the kitchen, facing the window with his shoulders hiked high and his palms resting on the counter.
“What does he have that I don’t?” The words hit me straight in the chest.
“What?”
“You smiled at him,” He says. “You’ve never smiled at me.”
“That’s not true,” I defend.
“It is,” He sighs, “You’ve smiled, but they’ve never been real. He got a real one.”
“What does that even mean?”
“When you smile, Niamh, you get dimples. Deep little dimples on each side of your mouth. They’re so fucking pretty, but they’re never aimed at me.”
My lips part on a breath, and I watch him turn around, crossing his arms over his wide chest.
It hurts to look at him sometimes, with that face, those eyes and the intensity with which he looks at me. It feels as if he could pull me apart with that look alone, and what’s even scarier is the fact that I want him to.
“Roman,” I start, but he shakes his head and changes the subject.
“There’s going to be a company at the bar today to install security cameras.”
“Wait, what?”
“I have paid a company to come and install security.” He repeats.
“I heard you the first time, but why?”
“Because I don’t like that you’re there late with nothing to protect you. Your safety is not a compromise, and after…” He stops himself. “You’ll be provided with all the details and the software once they have the job done.”
“Do I get a say in this?” I quirk a brow.
“Only if your answer is yes.”
“You’re infuriating,” I snap at him.
“Ditto, sweetheart.”
See? Whiplash.
“What do you want from me, Roman?” I sigh.
“Too much,” He answers honestly. “Didn’t think I would, but here we are.”
“So, if you hit this button here,” The guy who had installed all the cameras says, “It’ll bring up the feeds.” He demonstrates, and several little boxes appear on the tablet screen. “And then you can click on each one to make the feed bigger.”
“Oh, that’s great,” I say. “Thank you.”
“You’ll get a link in the next hour,” He starts to pack away his equipment, “So you can set up a permanent account and have all of this on your own tablet. Make sure the alarm code you set is one you’ll remember. It’s rigged to call the police after three attempts.”
“Got it.”
After seeing him out, I stick around for a bit longer, using the bar as a safe haven, and when I get the email, I set up the account and get it all logged in.
It’s high tech; the entire bar area is covered, the stairwell up to my apartment and the areas outside and in the stockrooms. Other than my studio and the bathrooms, not a single part of this place is missed.
They also installed a new alarm system on the doors and windows with a code I need to enter within five minutes of unlocking.
It’s new, and while I’m feeling a little salty about Roman just doing this without my permission, I’m quietly grateful.
I had compromised on safety, and though this town is safe, not everyone in it is, especially when we get so many out of towners.
It’s a little after six when I finish my shift, leaving the bar in the capable hands of my manager and head back to the ranch, stopping by the pet store on the way through to get more of the high calorie kibble Darcy recommended for Pumpkin.
When I finally make it back, I notice Silas’s truck parked next to Roman’s.
Inside, the sound of childish laughter reaches my ears, and my eyes immediately find Rosie hanging off the back of Remy, who runs around the living room with her swinging behind him.
Caleb is laughing from the couch while Silas watches them both like a hawk, his whole body strung tight. I almost feel bad for him.
“Just in time, sweetheart,” Roman’s voice is at my ear, his scent wrapping around me. My stomach tightens.
“For what?”
“Family dinner.” His fingers brush down my arm. “Want to help?”
I meet his eyes and nod a little before I follow him through to the kitchen where he hands me the silverware to lay on the table and he collects the dishes for the center. It smells good, something rich and spicy that has my stomach growling in response.
“Do you always cook?” I ask to fill the silence in the dining room.
“Silas does it sometimes, but for the most part,” He nods.
“It smells good.”
The smile that breaks across his face makes my heart do a flip. It looks so boyish — charming and, fuck if that doesn’t make him ten times more attractive. He has smile lines I want to trace with my finger. I wonder if that’s how he feels about my dimples.
Dropping my eyes, I continue laying the cutlery down at the placemats.
“I like it when you look at me like that.”
“Roman,” I breathe, unable to bring my eyes back up.
It’s why I hadn’t seen him move closer, but I hadn’t heard him either.
He’d closed the gap between us so quietly, as if I were an animal easily spooked.
Perhaps I am. A rough finger curls under my chin, tilting my face up, and my breath stalls in my chest.
“I shouldn’t fucking want you the way I do, Niamh,” He says it so quietly I’m wondering if the words were even meant for me, “But damn it, I do. It’s so fucking selfish, I’m so fucking selfish for it, and yet every damn day I’m waiting for you to kiss me again.
Praying for it, and I am not a man of God, Niamh, but for you, I’ll pray to whoever I need to. ”
My skin prickles, and a shiver runs down my spine.
“And one of these days, I’m going to snap and I’m going to kiss you first and I’m not going to stop. Say you want me, sweetheart, and I’ll give you it. All of it.”
“But this is pretend,” I squeak.
“Not for me.” His whiskey eyes drop to my lips, and I watch the bump in his throat bob as he swallows. “Not anymore.” He drops my chin and moves his hand to my left finger where he brushes over the diamond on the wedding band.
“You ask, and I’ll give you anything you want.”
“I don’t want anything,” I breathe.
“Then want me,” The plea in his tone makes my knees shake, “Need me. Have me.”
I’ve experienced a lot of heartbreak in my life, not in relationships but in life itself. I’ve lost people, grieved and broken myself over it. Loving Roman Knight would be easy, so damn easy it should scare me, but it’s the heartbreak that truly stops me.
How do I survive another one?
How much risk am I willing to take?
“If we lived life by the rulebook, Niamh, none of us would want to get up in the morning.” The words my dad once said to me, back when I was an anxious hormonal teen, echo through my head. I can’t even remember what it was about, but I remember exactly what was said.
“But what if I’m scared?” I’d replied.
He’d chuckled and leaned back in his chair, a can of beer in one hand and sports playing on the TV. “But what if it’s not as scary as you think?”
I swallow hard, my heart thumping so wildly I hear it inside my ears. Roman is looking at me with a softness that has parts of me melting, burning down walls I’ve constructed to protect my heart.
“Say you want me,” He rasps, so close his breath whispers over my lips.
It would be so easy to just lean in and take what I’ve been craving since that night out on the porch.
The brush of his tongue, the feel of his fingers as they dug into my flesh, holding me so close like he was afraid I’d disappear if he let me go.
I wet my lips, skin prickling in anticipation. “Say you need me.”
My breath rattles from me as those words brush against me, as warm as whiskey. My body aches for him, from the way I am holding myself back. The craving is a very real, physical need that has claws in deep. I push forward on my toes, lifting just a little to close the gap between us and —
The dining-room door slams open. “Miss Niamh!” Rosie’s sweet little voice has the two of us jumping apart. “You got a cat!”