Chapter 20 #2
I scooted as far over as I could to keep a respectable distance but grew more worried with each passing second I fairly clung to my side.
This bed would not embarrass me tonight.
Finally, when I had scooted over far enough, feeling certain my perch was safe, I relaxed onto my back, a small sigh leaving my body.
My thoughts were a jumble of Tate, truck rides, kisses, fake wedding rings, the way he could tease me with nothing to show for it except the twinkle in his eyes, and now sharing a bed.
How does a person process everything that happened on a day like today?
Maybe they don’t. Maybe it just becomes part of your story, imprinting itself on your DNA.
There was a dichotomy about it all. Darkness and fear had been the reason for our marriage.
But I hadn’t felt any of that today.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Tate on his back too, his hands resting behind his head as he peered up at the ceiling. He had to be tired, but he hadn’t moved to turn off his lamp yet.
“Do you honestly think we’ll find Leroy?” I asked him, my gaze trained on the fan spinning lightly over our heads.
“Yeah,” Tate said.
“How do you know?”
He sucked in a breath. “I don’t know. But he left you a pretty brash message. He’s completely delusional and obsessed, and guys like that are usually one-track-minded.”
“I’m scared of what he might do to you when he finds out I’m married.”
He turned his face toward me. “I hope he does come after me. I chose this, ok? I know the risk, and whatever happens is on Leroy. Not you. And not me. Got it?”
I turned to look at him. “You’re lucky you don’t get scared.”
He huffed out a laugh. “Of course I get scared. I was always sweating bullets whenever I had to ask a girl out. One time, a snake got in one of our tractors, and I refused to drive it for a whole year after that.”
I laughed at the image. “I love snakes. I guess that makes me tougher than you.”
He smiled. “Nah, I’ve seen your muscles.”
“Then what makes you keep going when you’re scared?”
He stayed quiet as he pondered, lightly fingering the blanket. “There’s always going to be something that scares you. The trick is figuring out what’s worth being brave for.”
I bit my lip, refusing to engage with the rush of heat sliding into my belly at his statement. “What about your job?”
He lay on his back, letting out a sigh. “About ninety-five percent of the time, my job is boring. The other five percent is an adrenaline rush. But when Coleson got shot, for a while I wondered if I was done.”
“You did?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“What made you decide that you weren’t?” I asked.
He was quiet for a long moment.
“You,” he finally said.
“Me?”
“Yup.”
“Care to expound on that?” I asked, feeling slightly breathless.
He huffed out a laugh while he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Nope. Not here, anyway.”
My brain was taking that statement to too many places, so I concentrated on another question.
“But are you scared of Leroy?”
There was a long pause before he spoke.
“I’m not scared of him,” he said. “I’m scared of what he could do to people I—” He stopped abruptly, his top teeth skimming his bottom lip, then turned to face me. “To people I don’t like.”
I was no match for his feather-soft voice and the teasing in his eyes. I looked back at the ceiling as my face and body came alive in a fiery flame. I drew a calming breath through my nose.
“Tate, I—” I broke off. There had been something burning inside of me since the ceremony, but the words were stuck in a jumble in my throat.
But I couldn’t wait any longer. Now was the time to tell him.
So I took a breath and tried again. “I’ve never had someone willing to do so much for me before.
So…thank you. Thanks for being here. And for… doing this.”
I winced slightly. Should I have just bought him a thank-you card instead? There were no right words in existence when trying to thank somebody for marrying you to protect you from a bad guy.
A grin stole across his face. “For being here and for doing this? I think you’re in the right profession, romance writer.”
Before I could think it through, I gave his chest a light push—a flirtatious light push, which was a mistake. Touching him was a mistake. His body was warm and solid and all too real. He didn’t retaliate. He didn’t move to touch me, but his eyes flared, giving way to flutters low in my belly.
Immediately, I rolled onto my back, attempting to show nonchalance even through the vibrant undercurrent now humming between us.
It had probably always been there, but now it felt magnified.
There had always been some level of attraction between Tate and me—at least, on my end.
How could there not be? He was my older brother’s attractive best friend.
But I’d never let myself be completely wrapped up in Tate’s orbit.
We had a very clear and bold line between us.
Except now.
Now, I had a fake rock on my finger, and I discovered that the line had been drawn in pencil.
“Alright, Mrs. Walker,” Tate’s low voice draped over me, causing a new flame to erupt on my already fiery insides.
I had to wait for the blush to die down on my cheeks before I looked at him.
He was turned onto his side, leaning on one elbow and staring down at me.
His eyes were always a storm of contradictions—serious, yet full of warmth and teasing.
How did he do that? I bit my lip and braced myself to hear his sultry voice in such an intimate space.
“Things seem a little confusing. A little too cozy for what we’re trying to accomplish here. Tomorrow, I’m going to murder my brothers, but tonight…I’m going to establish some ground rules.”
He reached his hand out, his fingers coming to rest somewhere between us. I watched, transfixed, as he slowly slid an imaginary line down the middle of our bed.
“This is the annulment line.” He met my widened gaze, unabashed, a hint of mischief on his face. “This line makes it so we can both go back to our lives when this is all over. This line keeps us focused. This line keeps me focused. Cross it at your own risk.”
Tingles erupted inside of me at his meaning.
My toes twitched with a newfound energy buzzing inside of me.
My mind reeled with the possibilities and ideas his words had suggested.
And even though my hands were shaking, I couldn’t help pushing him a little.
That bossy voice of his just brought it out of me.
“So, are you saying that if I cross it, you wouldn’t be able to resist?”
He leaned toward me until I could smell the mint of his breath. His voice was low, and his eyes were nothing but lashes, and then he spoke, and I was done for. “I’m saying, don’t play with fire, smart ass.”
I blinked up at him, a smile slowly growing on my face, while his words traveled like a trail of fire down my spine.
“Does that mean I got one up on you, Walker?” I asked, as excited energy hummed through my body.
“That means, roll over and go to sleep, Rawlins,” he shot back as he rolled away from me.
Apparently a glutton for whatever punishment he was willing to bestow, I moved my foot in his direction, ever so slowly, until I brushed my cold toes against his leg.
He jerked away like he’d been shot. “Olivia,” he warned, but my smile refused to fade, even as my foot retreated to safety.
“I’ll cross that line if I feel like it,” I taunted, though my actions spoke withdrawal as I turned back to my side, facing away from him, eagerly awaiting his response.
An instant later, he rolled me over until I was lying on my back with Tate looming over me, a sparkle in his eyes once again. “Cross it at your own risk. But fair warning…I get attached easily.”
And then he rolled me back over, facing the window.
“Now stay on your side and go to sleep.”
At those words, I was quite certain I wouldn’t be moving an inch all night.
Without conscious thought, my fingers twisted the fake diamond sitting prettily but foreign on my hand.
So far, being married felt like something out of a fairy tale.
And that had nothing to do with our themed room, and the fact that it was with someone who claimed to barely tolerate me.
I smiled at the thought. But like all fairy tales, a force of darkness was usually driving the stakes. Leroy had found me. And he was here.
Somewhere.
That knowledge should have been enough to keep me awake.
My body was very accustomed to startling at every bump or creak in the night.
I should be terrified right now. But my veins still tingled in the glow of Tate’s teasing.
There was a strong, warm body emitting heat at my back.
There was a man who cared enough about my well-being to marry me to keep me safe.
Tate was here with me in the dark. And all my anxieties and worries, always so magnified in the night, were dulled to a peaceful, hazy quiet.
And I slept.
Plot Twist:
I didn’t wake up wrapped in Tate’s arms. He slept facing his side all night, and I did the same.
The saggy middle of our bed had raised all our expectations, I’m afraid.
But contrary to popular cinematic belief, proximity doesn’t necessarily result in accidental snuggling.
On one hand, I was supremely grateful for my self-awareness while asleep.
On the other hand, I’d been in Tate’s arms before, and having to miss it this time was… disappointing, to say the least.