11. Kira
11
KIRA
I was in the kitchen with Sierra and Chloe when Dom returned from whatever mission took him away for most of the day.
Dirty fries were indeed as incredible as Chloe assured me they would be, and I inhaled a plateful of fries and a BLT.
And even though Nick was sitting in the chair beside mine, and Dom could have sat in another, Dom looked at Nick. Nick got up, and Dom took the chair closest to me, like his place was next to me, and Nick knew it.
“How about a movie tonight?” Dom asks me.
He’s wearing a different T-shirt than before, and he looks tired. I’d ask him about it, but Chloe, Sierra, Nick, and now that I’m paying attention, Galen, who is downing a big glass of water at the sink, is staring at us.
It feels like he’s asking me on a date right in front of his friends. My cheeks heat, and I don’t know where to look under their scrutiny as their conversation grinds to a halt.
“Uh, I don’t watch movies,” I admit.
A sweet wife doesn’t sit on her ass watching movies, being lazy, while her husband works hard to put food on the table. She keeps busy. Bryce didn’t watch movies. He liked football games or baseball, so along the way, I stopped watching them too.
Everyone stares at me.
And I realize I should have kept my mouth shut, or at least thought before I spoke. Now I’m going to have to explain that movies are for relaxing and relaxing is something I could never do with Bryce.
The one time I was feeling rebellious and put a movie on, I fell asleep, and woke up much later than I should have. Bryce was home, dinner hadn’t been started, and I was once again the useless fuck up of a wife.
“Kira?” The soft note in Dom’s voice returns me to the present.
“Sorry, I was thinking about something.”
He gives me a long look. “We stream out here. How about you pick something out to watch and we get all the snacks out for it.”
“But don’t you have…” My voice trails off as I’m once again reminded of something.
In all the time I’ve been here, no one has talked about going to work. No has gone to work either, unless they did it while I wasn’t paying attention.
“Don’t you work?” I ask.
A strange silence fills the room.
Should I not have asked? Am I being rude or small town nosey?
“We did before we settled here,” Galen says, as he places his empty glass in the dishwasher and walks over to stand behind Sierra’s chair, resting his hands on her shoulders. “But we’re pretty self-sufficient here.”
“So you, uh, won the lottery and no longer need to work?”
He flashes me a grin. “If only. We live frugally for the most part because we don’t need a lot. If anyone needs help with something in town, we can earn some money that way.”
Dom must read my confusion to say, “We also own land and some real estate. Not a lot. Some commercial properties that generate income.”
“And we invest in other opportunities to grow our wealth.” Galen takes over. “But the goal isn’t to be rich. It’s so we have enough that we can focus on the things that matter.”
“What things matter?” I ask.
Dom pushes himself to his feet. “Family. So, how about this movie?”
Everyone looks expectantly at me.
“Someone else can pick a movie,” I say. “It doesn’t have to be me.”
Chloe snags my hand and tugs, and we leave everyone behind. “Nope. Your pick. Nick can make snacks for us.”
As she pulls me into the den, a navy room with plump gray cushions, a corner sectional couch and armchairs, as well as a projector set up, I realize they’re always trying to include me.
I’m not sure how I feel about all this attention, but I think I like it.
Movie night was fun, even if I spent the end of the movie falling asleep.
I forgot to ask Dom where he was sleeping. Again. It’s only when I’m brushing my teeth in the bathroom opposite my room—or Dom’s room—that I realize I have an opportunity to do some night time laundry.
The house is quiet. Everyone was going up to bed, or talking about it. I saw a dryer in the utility room while I was hanging out with Nick and Chloe in the kitchen earlier. So I could do laundry and dry my clothes while everyone is sleeping and no one would even know that I don’t have any clothes to wear.
Just in case someone is still awake and asks me what I’m doing, I don’t undress. Instead, I creep down the stairs in my skirt, creased T-shirt with a fluffy bath robe belted over the top.
If I bump into someone, I’ll tell them I came down to grab some water. If not, I can get undressed in the utility room, stuff my clothes in the washing machine, shut the door, and in a couple of hours, I’ll have properly washed clothes. An hour after that, the tumble dryer would have done the work of drying instead of a hairdryer that cuts out every five minutes.
I encounter no one on the steps.
A light drifts from under one of the closed entryway doors. Maybe Galen’s office? It’s the same room Sierra went in earlier, complaining about having to call the bank.
Whoever it is in there—or maybe someone just left a lamp on?—is quiet.
I tiptoe past the closed door, and into the utility room off the kitchen.
I flick a light on, open the washing machine door, and frown at a blue T-shirt.
Just one T-shirt.
So, should I wash my stuff with…
Wait a second. Wasn’t Dom wearing that earlier?
Never mind. Just take it out and wash your stuff. If you wash his, he’ll know for sure that you were in here.
I pull the T-shirt out and freeze.
A massive red stain covers half of the bottom portion of the material.
Blood.
I don’t know why I’m convinced that’s what it is, but I’m sure of it.
Dom was wearing that T-shirt when he took me into town. He suddenly stumbled, which, if you knew a Marine, you’d know they don’t stumble. Now I find a bloody T-shirt with a bullet hole in the washing machine.
He didn’t stumble. Someone shot him, and he hid it from me.
I’d leave right that second, but I need my car keys I left on top of the dresser. I shove the T-shirt back in the washing machine, turning off the lights as I rush out.
Then I sprint up the stairs, dump the bathrobe on the bed and step into my sneakers as I grab my car keys, and hurry down them again.
I thought Shawn had convinced Bryce to look for me elsewhere. It looks like Shawn didn’t convince him of anything at all. No one else has a reason to want to hurt Dom.
Which means Bryce is here, somewhere, and if I don’t get out now, someone will die.
I jog down the porch steps, leaving the front door partially open so no one hears me close it, then I run for my car, get in, and start the engine.
No one followed me. Which is good. That’s good. I pull on my seatbelt, twist around in my seat to make sure no one parked up behind me, and when I twist back to the front, a scream tears from my throat at the figure standing directly in front of my car.
It’s a familiar figure. Which is the only reason I stop screaming.
Dom.
He strides around to the driver’s seat. It’s dark and his expression is impossible to read.
I should start the engine and go. I do nothing when he opens my car door and looks at me. “Please don’t leave, Kira.”
“Bryce shot you!” It’s too dark to see his chest, but I remember what I saw. “I found your shirt in the washing machine. It happened in town today, didn’t it?”
He doesn’t respond.
I turn back to my wheel. “I can’t stay here where?—”
“Can I show you something?” Dom’s quiet question halts me.
“What?”
“How I feel about you. What you mean to me.”
I stare at him, confused. “You hate me. In Missouri, you wanted nothing to do with me.”
It’s been adding to my confusion because here, in Wylder, that hasn’t been the way he’s been acting. He isn’t finding any and every excuse to get away from me. He’s helping me.
His hand tightens on the edge of my car door as he peers down at me with intense focus. “I didn’t hate you, Kira.”
“But you?—”
“Come here. I want to show you something.” He walks away, not waiting to see if I’ll follow.
Far too curious about what he intends to show me, I climb out of my car, trailing him into the house and up to his room.
He crouches in front of the dresser.
My confusion grows. “Dom? What are you doing?”
He opens the bottom dresser drawer. “I kept everything you ever sent me in your care packages. Well, everything except those cookies you baked and the snacks you sent.” He aims a wry smile at me. “Try as I might, those never lasted long.”
I look away, embarrassed. “Uh, the cookies were uneven and odd shaped. They?—”
“They were perfect to me,” he softly interrupts. “No one ever baked me anything before. Opening up your care packages was like someone giving me a hug. No, it was like you giving me a hug. I looked forward to each one and told myself not to in case I would never get another.”
My heart clenches at the emotion in his voice, and I want to drop to my knees beside him and give him a real hug. “But I don’t understand. Why did you make me think you hated me?”
His smile is sad as he closes the drawer and gets to his feet. “Because you were married, Kira. I thought you were happy. And stealing the woman you’ve fallen for from her husband would not be a good thing to do.”
My mouth is dry, and my voice is faint. “Woman you fell for?”
He takes a step closer, and the intensity in his gaze makes me gulp.
“Why did you think I kept sending you those postcards, Kira?”
I shake my head. “Because Aaron asked you to keep an eye on?—”
“I couldn’t trust myself to stay away from you.” He interrupts. “I went to fight wars and I could never get you out of my mind, no matter how far away I went. But I couldn’t have you, and I wanted you to know where you could always find me if you ever needed me.”
My eyes burn, the prickle warning tears are on their way. “But you didn’t say anything.”
“What did you want me to say, Kira?” His eyes dart to my mouth and my belly clenches in response. “That I wanted you so badly I couldn’t be around you without wanting to steal you from your husband?”
“You don’t mean that,” I whisper, shaking my head when that’s exactly what I wanted. Then. Now.
If he’d told me that back then, I’d have slid my ring off my finger, dropped it on the floor and gone with him.
No hesitation.
And I would have never looked back.
Because meeting Dom, liking him the way I did, made me realize whatever feelings I had for Bryce had died years before.
He grips me by the tops of my arms, and slowly, he draws me closer to him so only inches separate us. A brief flicker of amusement flits across his deep brown gaze. “Of course I mean it. Why else would I have struggled to find the lamest excuse in the world to take you out on a coffee date and buy you clothes?”
A date ?
My eyes widen. “What?”
He nods at the pile of shopping bags in the room’s corner. “I didn’t buy those clothes for Rose. Her birthday is next year. I bought them for you, Kira. And I wanted to show you the best of Wylder, so you might decide you want to stay. With me.”
I look at him and I think of the last few years. The fear, the terror, the life I hated with every fiber of my body.
I could have had Dom. A man who cares. He gave me his bed to sleep in, spent six thousand dollars on clothes for me, and he went to war to get away from his feelings for me so he wouldn’t be tempted to act on them.
A man who I shouldn’t have liked when I first met him.
I spent countless hours baking and coming up with things to include in his care packages, even when I thought he hated me because I couldn’t stand the thought of no one sending him anything.
Dom didn’t hate me.
Ever since I arrived in Wylder, he’s made it his mission to look after me, giving me everything I need.
All this time I could have had him instead of dragging myself through days, weeks, months, and years with Bryce, a man who spent all those years controlling me.
Bryce twisted my love into hate, trapping me in a life I didn’t want. I never realized how trapped I was married to the former star quarterback and sheriff, whom everyone loved and saw none of his failings. But I did. All I saw were his failings.
I swing away before Dom can see the tears in my eyes fall.
“Kira?”
I shake my head, staring at the ground as I will my tears away.
“Kira?”
Maybe I should just leave so?—
I gasp as he tugs, and the first of the tears that fall don’t hit my cheeks. They soak the front of Dom’s shirt.
I will the rest away, but I can’t. Now they’ve started, I can’t stop.
I press my face harder against Dom’s chest, gripping soft cotton as he wraps his arms around me, drawing me even closer as he breathes, “It’s okay, Kira. I have you. No one will ever hurt you again.”
“What happens now?” I ask, long after I’ve finished soaking through Dom’s shirt to the skin beneath. I blush when I see the mess I’ve made, but he doesn’t seem to even notice.
He thumbs moisture from under my eye and lowers his head. I hold my breath as he presses the softest, most achingly sweet kiss on the corner of my mouth that sets my blood on fire.
When he lifts his head, his gaze is determined. “Now, you go to bed. Tomorrow, we’ll have Shawn come to the house and talk about all the ways we’re going to protect you from the man who doesn’t deserve you.”
That same prickle starts up in my eyes and I swallow the spiked ball lodged in my throat. “Bryce is a sheriff. He’s dangerous,” I warn him.
“Bryce doesn’t know what dangerous is. If he keeps this up, he will.”
I shouldn’t want anyone dead or hurt, but something about his silky threat does something to my insides. Or maybe it’s the determination in Dom’s eyes to protect me.
Dom’s nostrils flare, and he takes a slow, deliberate step back. I miss his arms the second they fall away from me. “Sleep, Kira. I’ll see you in the morning.”
He has the door open when I unglue my tongue from my mouth and remember to use my brain.
“I’m sleeping in your bed,” I call after him.
His hand tightens around the door handle and I hear him draw in a deep breath and then slowly exhale. “Yes. You are.”
Tension radiates up his spine as a breathless, nervous energy invades my body. Suddenly, I’m all too aware that it’s just us in his room, and beside me is his bed.
I clear my throat. “W-where are you sleeping?”
He peers over his shoulder and I feel the impact of his heated stare lance through me. “Goodnight, Kira.”
He leaves, closing the door firmly behind him.
I nearly call him back until my gaze returns to the bed. It’s a double. What exactly was I going to say? Or do.
Invite him to share this bed with me?
Because the way he was looking at me before he took a step back warned me that sharing a bed—even innocently—with Dom would not stay innocent at all.
When I can no longer hear his footsteps, I cross over to stand beside the mountain of shopping bags in the corner, and I smile.
He had to have gotten the owner’s help. I knew it was suspicious when she kept getting me to try stuff on. And Dom…
Dom had just waited, arms folded, with his back to the counter for me to do extreme damage to his credit card.
This is too much.
I should thank him tomorrow and make him return it. But there are clothes in that bag that I always liked to wear, stuff I would have worn before Bryce took over my wardrobe. Clothes that remind me of the Kira Matheson I was before we eloped and I became Kira Peters.
Tricia was gently prodding me toward a pair of satin pajamas in the store. I pushed back, reminding her that this was a birthday present for someone else, and picking out pjs was a little too personal for me to do.
But as I stand over those bags, my gaze snags on purple satin.
It’s the exact shade of the pajamas she’d wanted me to try on. I pull the bag open, and digging through the other clothes, I find more nightwear. There are three more sets. One pair of shorts, another long sleeve pair of pajamas, and a camisole style dress.
I blush when I discover the lingerie at the bottom. Everything I could need. Bras and thongs and socks. Not just trainer socks, but the fuzzy kind too.
I look at the door Dom closed before he left and I wish I had kissed him.
I don’t sleep in the expensive satin. I slip out of my clothes so I’m wearing Dom’s boxer shorts and tank top. Both are soft cotton and too big. It’s not a fit made for a woman’s body, but from the moment I put them on, I loved the way they felt against my skin. And I loved knowing they belonged to Dom.
I cross the hallway to wash my face and use the bathroom. Back in Dom’s room, which has become mine, I turn out the lights and crawl under the sheets, breathing in Dom’s scent.
I’m not afraid, like I was before. I have a whole house full of people who will fight my corner. And I have Dom.
Maybe things will be okay.
Maybe I can stay.