Chapter 14 #3
I followed her blindly because my higher brain functions were currently offline while she held my hand. But neither of us moved to let go. We also didn’t look at each other, not ready to acknowledge exactly what the hell had just happened.
Only when we were in the truck and the heavy metal door was between us and the crowd did she finally let go.
The loss of her warmth was like a phantom ache I couldn’t shake.
“Drive,” she ordered quietly, staring out the windshield.
I obeyed, fired up the engine, and pulled out of the school lot, my hands tight on the steering wheel.
We were halfway between the school and the small brick post office downtown when she finally shifted on the bench seat.
Moving closer to the center console, she laid her hand lightly over my right hand resting on the gear shift.
Her thumb shifted once, dragging smoothly over my knuckles.
I wasn’t even sure she knew she was doing it.
A fresh fault line cracked open through the center of my chest.
I had been touched before. I wasn’t a virgin, and I wasn’t made of glass. But I had never been touched like this—not publicly defended against a hostile crowd, and then held like I was the one who desperately needed the grounding.
It wasn’t long before we pulled into the small dirt lot behind the post office. I threw the truck into park and cut the engine.
“I’ll get ‘em,” I rasped, practically fleeing the cab before I dragged her across the center console and did something reckless.
Inside the post office, the clerk pushed three surprisingly heavy cardboard boxes across the counter. They were loaded with specialized crafting supplies Boone had ordered for her so she could keep making her candles and lotions.
I stepped forward, stacking two of them in my arms and nudging the third toward the edge of the counter to add to the tower. Seeing her name on the shipping label had a strange, tight knot of satisfaction forming in my chest.
I’d spent the last few days figuring out how to stay in the periphery so I didn’t ruin this for my pack.
My packmates deserved a woman like Julia.
They deserved the light and the fierce loyalty she’d just displayed in that parking lot.
I’d told myself she was the key to their happiness, and I’d do whatever I had to to make sure she stayed.
But seeing these supplies, I realized it was more than that.
I didn’t just want her to stay for them; I wanted her to be happy here.
I wanted her to have the tools to be herself, to keep her own hands busy and her mind sharp.
She wasn’t going to be some decorative houseplant the OMA tried to prune. She was going to be whole.
Julia, having followed me inside—because of course she had—reached for the top box. “I can carry one.”
I shifted my stance, blocking her hand with my shoulder as I secured the third box under my chin. “I know you can.”
She scowled, dropping her hands to her hips. “Then why are you carrying all of them?”
“Because they’re heavy.”
“So?” she demanded, that stubborn fire I liked flaring in her pretty brown eyes.
I gave her a dry look over the top of the cardboard tower. “Will you stop arguing, woman?”
Julia let out a genuine snort of laughter. Despite her protests, I knew she liked that I recognized she could handle herself, but still wanted to carry the weight for her anyway. She stepped back and held the heavy glass door open, letting me walk out first.
As we moved down the sidewalk toward the truck, the crisp breeze shifted, giving me another intoxicating hit of her sweetness.
Christ. Her scent was decadent, nearly obliterating the threads of my restraint as it went straight to my groin.
The sudden rush of arousal almost took me to my knees, but the emotional overwhelm is what truly leveled me.
That scent wasn’t just desire. It was the physical aftermath of the way she had stood up for me.
The way she had chosen me. The way she had planted her boots on that sidewalk and demanded the world respect the man standing beside her as well as her new family.
At the passenger side of the truck, she turned back. The wind tossed her dark hair over her shoulder, and her brown eyes locked onto mine.
“You coming, Colt?” she asked softly.
Three years ago, I would have flashed a grin, tipped my hat, and flirted my ass off until a woman that beautiful and fierce was mine.
But the man who would have done that died in the dirt with Easton.
The man standing here was just a broken shell, and my only job was to stay out of the way so my brothers could have the happiness they actually deserved.
But looking at her waiting for me, I realized I was a selfish bastard.
I’d step aside for the pack. I’d make sure she settled in and gave them the chance they needed.
But until then? I was going to take every single scrap of closeness she offered.
It was going to be pure torture, because I knew I could never keep her.
But I was going to let myself burn anyway.
I shifted my grip on the heavy boxes, stepped off the curb, and walked right into the fire.