Chapter 9
Evie’s breath whispered across Brennan’s skin. Her hair softly tickled his shoulder, and one leg rested across his. She was tucked safe and warm against his side. And for once, he didn’t want to get up and start the day. He was totally content lying there with her asleep in his arms.
It was new, exciting, and oh so right, all at the same time.
Never had he felt so comfortable with someone in his personal space like this.
He wasn’t a monk, shyness notwithstanding, but he’d never wanted to just stay put.
Nor had he had such a strong desire to simply watch a woman sleep in his arms like he did right now.
It shouldn’t surprise him, since very little about his feelings, or their progression, for Evie had been normal.
From the instant desire for a connection with her at that first meeting, the awareness of her whenever they were in the same space, to the protectiveness, and the possibly overblown fear he’d experienced in her studio last night.
Was it only last night he’d arrived to find her so lost in her art, oblivious to the life-threatening danger sparking right behind her?
In barely twelve hours, his world had shifted.
He’d found courage, trusted his heart, and taken a huge leap.
Being completely honest, he’d fallen in love with her that first night.
He’d just been too stubborn to admit it.
Whether Evie was ready to hear those words was an entirely different matter.
After last night, he hoped she would be, but in the light of day, things could be different.
It would crush him in a way he’d never experienced if she changed her mind.
“You’re thinking too much.” Her whisper broke into his thoughts. “I hope it’s good.”
“It’s about you.”
Evie shifted enough that he could see her face. “Doesn’t mean it’s good.”
“You’re better than good.” His fingers moved to her chin and lifted it so he could press a kiss to her lips.
“Good morning,” she whispered.
Brennan smiled. “Indeed, it is a very good morning.” Best he’d had in a long time.
Evie’s head settled back on his shoulder, her fingers lightly tracing the muscles on his chest. “Will you really pose for me?”
“Will you let me make this place safe for you?”
Her gentle laughter warmed his heart. Mission accomplished.
“Are you blackmailing me?” she asked. “Even when you’ve already lost.”
“Never.” Brennan shifted onto his side, a tad reluctantly because it meant she was no longer in his arms, but he wanted to see her face clearly. “I want you safe.”
Evie frowned. “Why me?”
Now it was his turn to frown. “Why you, what?”
A blush crept over her cheeks. “Why… Why do you like me?”
It was the same question as last night. And this time, he was determined to answer.
“What’s not to like? You’re amazing. I’ve seen you with my sister, my family.
I’ve seen you step up here in the community in ways those who lived here all their lives haven’t.
And those kids in your classroom absolutely adore you.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned about children, it’s that they have great instincts.
Even if I hadn’t been drawn to you before, I certainly would’ve been after.
You have such a passion for your work. Those kids are lucky to have you.
If you have that for me, I’ll be a lucky man. ”
“But…” Her gaze dropped.
“But what?”
Evie shrugged. “Look at you. You’re gorgeous. You could have any woman you wanted.”
“I have her. In my arms.” Or close enough. He reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear and then ran his thumb gently over the soft skin of her cheek. “Right here. Right now.”
“But I’m not—” Her eyes closed. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. It took a moment for him to understand.
“Evangeline Morgan.” Her eyelids popped open with his use of her full name. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve had the privilege of laying eyes on. Inside and out. And I will hunt down anyone who has ever made you feel anything less and …”
Her eyes widened and her mouth made that little ‘o’ shape, which made him want to kiss her more than draw his next breath.
“And what?” she prompted.
“You probably don’t want to know.” He probably didn’t want to know either.
The thought of anyone making this woman feel less than beautiful about herself had a furiously protective urge rise up in him.
Brennan rose on his elbow and leaned in to kiss the tip of her nose.
“However, I will take great pleasure in reminding you daily… if you want me to.”
“How would you do that?”
Brennan smiled. “Let me show you.” He shifted closer, his lips barely making contact when they were interrupted by the familiar ringtone he’d assigned to his mother.
Groaning, he flopped back on the bed. “I’ll be right back.
” He rose and dashed out to the living area and managed to answer it before it went to voicemail.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Is everything alright out there? Are you and Evie safe?”
“We’re good. All safe. The power…” The light on the table glowed dimly. “Is back on. Everyone safe there, too?”
“Everyone’s fine. There’ll be a quick rehearsal at five o’clock this afternoon. It’s just ten minutes, so please don’t be late. There’ll be dinner afterwards for everyone.”
“As long as the road’s clear, we’ll be there. Any word on that?”
“Oh, I’m sure it’ll be fine.” His mother’s tone was suspiciously breezy. “I’ll get one of the boys to confirm with you later. Have a lovely day.” And then she was gone.
Brennan stared at his phone and added his mother to the growing list of family members behaving oddly.
But that was a problem for another time.
He had a more pressing matter. Returning to the bedroom and Evie, he put his phone on the bedside table and was about to slip back under the covers when he spotted an open sketchbook on the floor.
He reached down, pausing when he got close enough to make out the picture in the still-dim light.
“Wow.” He grabbed the book and sat back on the bed after flicking on the bedside lamp, oblivious to the chill settling around him as he studied the drawing and then turned to Evie. “You drew this?”
“Oh. Umm… It was just … It’s nothing.” Her cheeks flamed and her gaze skittered away.
“Evie, this is us. Right?”
“Yes.”
“You clearly don’t need me to model for you after all.”
She tried to snatch the book back from him, but he tossed it on the other side of the bed and caught her in his arms. Maneuvering carefully, he pinned her to the bed, her hands held above her head with one of his hands, the other on her stomach.
There was no way she should be embarrassed by the picture, but the flush on her cheeks had given her away.
“Repeat after me, Evie Morgan. ‘I am a fantastic artist, and there is nothing I should be embarrassed to show Brennan O’Reilly.”
“It’s not… It’s just a doodle.”
Brennan shook his head. “Repeat what I said, please.”
“I am a fantastic artist.”
“And.”
“And there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
Close enough. He released her hands, settled onto the bed next to her, and tugged up the covers. Pulling her back into his arms, he asked, “So, why were you? It’s amazing.”
“It’s just my journal. I’ve never been great at putting my thoughts into words in a diary, but… I just…”
Brennan grinned. “So, you were thinking about us. When did you draw that?”
She tucked her head into his shoulder. “Last night.” It was muffled, but he heard.
He gently nudged her head up and smiled. “It’s beautiful, and if you wouldn’t mind, I’d love to have it framed and hung on my wall.” He knew exactly where he wanted it to go.
Her eyes widened. “But you don’t have anything hanging on them.”
“I think that’s something I should change.” After less than a day in Evie’s home, his sterile and minimalist apartment was no longer as appealing. Though it might have more to do with the occupant than the décor. Either way, a change was in order. “But if you don’t want to, I understand.”
“I could do a better one.”
Brennan pressed his lips to hers. “I don’t need a better one. It’s perfect. As are you.”
She smiled. “I’ll think about it. Now, I believe you were going to show me … or remind me… about something.”