Chapter 12
CHANCE
Roxie is panting when I release her, cheeks flushed and sweat dotting her skin.
Her eyes are glazed and unfocused, as I press a gentle kiss to her forehead.
For a moment, we stay like that, breathing each other in, but when I finally manage to look away from her, I glance up to find Dillon watching us.
He beckons, and I lift her, tenderly helping him lay her down on the rug. My body is still tingling and languid, my heart slamming like an out-of-control drum against my ribs, but Dillon’s jaw is tight, his shoulders rigid with tension.
“Still okay?” he murmurs as he lays down beside her.
A breathless giggle slides out of her. “Yes, but you’re going to have to do most of the work. That was a lot.”
“I have no problem with that, sweetheart, but I can wait.”
She shakes her head. “No, I’m fine.”
“Let’s just give you a minute to catch your breath,” he whispers, kissing her as Boone goes to lie on her other side.
While I wait for my heart rate to calm down, they work together, kissing her in turn and gently running their fingertips over every inch of her glowing, damp skin. It isn’t long before I can tell she’s ready, her hips rolling just a little as they kiss her.
Boone holds her against him, his arms wrapped around her as Dillon thrusts into her from behind. I watch the powerful movements of his hips, already getting a little turned on again myself, but I know she’ll be spent after this.
She lets out a keening cry that Boone swallows, then her thighs start shaking and her shoulders curl in on themselves.
Shit, that’s fucking hot.
I could watch her come all day, but then Dillon’s hips stutter, and he lets out a deep, guttural roar that tells me he’s coming too. As soon as he’s done, he drops a kiss between her shoulder blades and collapses.
Boone lays back and brings her with him, then I slide into place on her other side. We stay just like that for a long time, none of us saying a word.
In the aftermath, Roxie looks a little dazed. Sort of like the world has tilted just a few degrees off its axis and she hasn’t quite found her footing again. Dillon must’ve noticed the same thing, because he suddenly sits up, pushes to his feet and pulls on his sweats.
“I’ll grab you some water,” he says, then pads across the room, his hair sticking up in all directions and vague imprints of her nails on the backs of his shoulders.
Boone lays beside her with that protective, quiet look he always gets when he cares too much to hide it. For once, there are no storms in his gray eyes. A blanket covers him from the waist down, one arm hooked behind his head as his gaze meets mine.
I draw in a deep breath, rolling over to face her and nudging her nose with mine. “Are you doing okay?”
She blinks up at me, a flush still coloring her cheeks. “Yeah, I’m just tired. Maybe a little overwhelmed.”
“That’s fair,” I say, offering her a small smile. “It’s been a pretty big day.”
She lets out a tiny laugh that makes my chest ache, because it seems like it cost her something to give. “That’s one way of looking at it.”
I pick up a throw blanket from the back of the couch and drape it around her shoulders. She holds it tight, like it gives her something to focus on. Meeting Boone’s gaze, I lift my chin to let him know I was moving, then I transfer her from the arm she’d been lying on to his.
She moves languidly, willingly rolling her head onto his shoulder instead and not questioning me when I get up. I don’t want her to think I’m just abandoning her though, so I bend over and brush a kiss to her temple.
“I’ll be right back,” I murmur before straightening up and pulling on my shorts.
I jog to the bathroom down the hall and grab a washcloth, wetting it before I head back. When I hit the living room, I pause in the doorway, taking in her long mahogany hair draped over Boone’s arm, his dark head bent close to hers, his eyes closed.
A glass of water sits on the floor beside her, but Dillon is nowhere to be found.
She has one leg hooked over Boone’s thigh, her fingertips absently trailing patterns on his bare chest. Late afternoon sunlight spills through the windows, casting a golden hue across the scene that makes it feel a little like a dream.
Not wanting to interrupt the peace of the moment, I pad quietly across the room, kneeling beside her and showing her the cloth when she looks up at me. Confusion flickers in her eyes for a second before her eyebrows rise and understanding dawns across her face.
“Seriously?” she murmurs.
I nod in response to her question. “Seriously. Unless you’d rather do it yourself?”
Her gaze remains hooked on mine for another moment, her lower lip caught between her teeth before she slowly shakes her head. Rolling a little more onto her back, she shuts her eyes, still biting her lip as I move the blanket aside to run the cloth across her chest.
Her skin is flushed, her nipples swollen and tender looking. Carefully, I keep the pressure light as I clean her up, gently wiping her breasts, her curvy stomach, and finally running the cloth between her legs.
She sucks in a sharp breath when I reach the apex of her thighs, her pulse jumping under her jaw, but she doesn’t move or open her eyes. When I’m done, I drop the cloth on the tiles and sit back on my knees, seeing the resignation in Boone’s gray eyes when I glanced at him.
I get where he’s coming from. I can practically feel her emotional retreat myself, like those guards of hers are slowly slamming back into place.
She finally opens her eyes but doesn’t meet ours. Instead, she stands up, letting the blanket slide from her shoulders to her chest and quickly wrapping it around herself. “I think I’m going to head to bed.”
“I’ll walk you,” I offer automatically.
She doesn’t argue, just letting me guide her up the stairs and down the hall. The air between us feels different now, still charged, but gentler somehow. When we reach her door, she turns to face me, one hand on the frame like she isn’t sure if she wants to step through yet.
“Thanks,” she says quietly. “For… everything.”
“Anytime,” I tell her, and I mean it. I hesitate for a beat, but when she doesn’t move to go into the room, I lean over and press a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be right downstairs if you need anything, okay?”
When I draw back, her eyes are soft and sleepy, but her brow is still a little furrowed. “Thanks, but I think I’m just going to crash. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“See you in the morning.” I wait until she disappears into the room and shuts the door behind her, then I just stand there in the hall for a long moment, waiting in case she realizes she wants to say something else.
It feels like something new and inevitable is taking root between us all. Like whatever started tonight won’t be ending anytime soon, but the way she’d withdrawn afterward is worrying.
Finally realizing she really is in her bedroom for now, I turn and go back to the kitchen and find Boone leaning against the counter with a beer in his hand as he looks out at the sun setting. Dillon sits on the island, swinging one leg like he’s waiting for a verdict of some sort.
Neither of them looks up when I come in, but Boone finally breaks the silence with a heavy sigh. “We might’ve moved too fast.”
I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and twist off the cap. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking the same thing.”
Dillon lifts his head, his expression caught somewhere between guilt and defiance. “She didn’t exactly seem against it. You both saw her. She was into it. And she said she wanted it.”
Boone gives him a look that could peel paint off walls. “That’s not the point, and you know it.”
Dillon sighs, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head. “I do. I just… It’s been a long damn time since anything felt that right. None of us planned it, but it happened anyway, and it was good.”
“Yeah, it was, but that’s what worries me,” Boone says quietly. “We might’ve taken advantage of that. It’s possible we took it too far, too fast, and I think it might’ve been too much for her.”
A slight smirk curves Dillon’s mouth. “If you ask me, we were just enough for her. I know she went straight up to bed after, but maybe she was just shy when she realized what had just happened. We’ve seen that before. It takes some people a while to ease into accepting that they liked it.”
“She’s not like the others,” Boone snaps. “Maybe she was a little shy. It’s perfectly natural, but there’s something else going on with her.”
Dillon sighs. “I thought she was a little off at first too, but I think you’re reading too much into it now. She’s been fine since she got here.”
Boone arches an eyebrow after swallowing a sip of his beer.
“You saw how she flinched when we mentioned the motel that first day, right? That wasn’t just nerves about three random guys arriving at her door.
There’s something going on with her. She wasn’t thinking earlier when she gave us the go-ahead.
She was already a little dazed after that kiss.
We shouldn’t have just jumped in without waiting for her to cool down a little. ”
“Agreed, but I don’t think that’s our biggest problem.” I cock a hip against the counter beside him. “She’s running from something. I’d bet my next paycheck on it. This, on top of everything else, might be the straw that breaks the camel’s back.”
Dillon frowns, the humor finally gone from his face. “Do you think she’s in trouble?”
“I think she’s scared,” Boone replies. “If we’re going to have her here and try to make this work at all, we need to talk to her. Make sure she knows what we’re about. What this is.”
I take a slow drink, weighing the thought. Boone is right. “Tomorrow. Let’s just give her time to breathe tonight, then we can sit down with her. No pressure or assumptions. Just honesty from our side, and hopefully, she’ll let us in a little.”
I nod. Whatever Roxie’s story is, she isn’t just passing through our lives anymore.
But after what happened today, it’s entirely possible she might try to run.
She wouldn’t get far, but none of us want her to feel like she should be adding us to the list of things she has to run from in the first place.
Dillon looks between us, his expression tightening when he realizes we are stone-cold serious. “So, what are we saying here? We’re going to ask her straight out what’s going on?”
“Not yet,” I say. “She’s wound tight as a spring. If we push her more than we already have, she’ll bolt. We have to play it smart and make her feel safe first.”
Boone’s gaze goes distant, a calculating gleam in his eyes. That’s the ex-fighter in him taking over, always thinking a few moves ahead. “What do we do when she’s ready to talk?”
“We listen,” I answer. “No judgment. No pressure.”
Dillon nods. “What if whoever she’s hiding from shows up?”
I don’t even hesitate. “Then we deal with it.”
Boone’s jaw flexes. He meets my eyes and something solid passes between us, a shared understanding that needs no words. “She’s under our roof now.”
“Yeah,” I agree immediately. “That makes her ours to protect.”
Dillon exhales and tries to lighten the mood, his grin crooked but weary. “I guess that means I should bake more cookies.”