41. Easton
Easton
TEN MINUTES BEFORE
“Hold that thought.” Griffin exits the conversation we’re in the middle of with Carter to answer the door.
He lets Wyatt in, and based on the haunted look in his eyes, I’m guessing he’s here to deliver more bad news. “What’s wrong?” I cut to it.
Wyatt remains by the door, propping it open with his shoulder while zeroing in on me. “Can we talk?”
My stomach sinks as if I dropped ten thousand feet in the air. “Sure.”
Jesse pats my shoulder, careful of my back, like I’m being sent downrange and might not come back alive. Thanks for that.
I catch Diana’s eyes on the way out, and even she gives me a little good luck look.
Perfect.
This is juuuust perfect.
Once we’re alone in the hall, Wyatt snaps around toward me, hands balling into fists. I close one eye, tilt my head, and brace for that punch I’m fully willing to take.
I get slammed with something, but it’s not his fist. The words hit just as hard when he asks, “Do you have feelings for my daughter?”
I blink, startled. “What?”
He raises his palm, a silent warning to stop. But, hell, I’m not doing anything.
Not moving. Not speaking.
What does he want me to stop doing? Breathing?
“I don’t need to know if you’ve had sex.”
My stomach flips. Kill me now.
He winces. “As far as I’m concerned, she’ll be a virgin until the day I die, even if she makes me a grandfather, so please spare me the details.”
I drop my gaze to the floor, grappling with the fact those words just came out of that man’s mouth. I’d rather make another emergency crash landing—solo, of course—than replay what he just said to me, let alone give him an answer.
“No.” I shake my head, unsure what I just said no to.
His forehead tightens. “No?”
Where’s some gum when I need it? I slowly make eye contact, unsure if that’s a good idea. Aren’t you supposed to avoid that with bulls wanting to charge?
“Nothing has happened with your daughter.” For some reason, I feel the need to make that point clear as fucking day.
“Don’t lie to me.”
“You just told me to,” I snap out like a reflex, confused.
He closes his eyes, and I realize my mistake. Now he’s going to think I did have sex with his daughter, and the poor guy won’t ever be able to look at me again.
Fucking same. I take a sobering breath and try to dig myself out of this war-sized trench I’m in. “We all love your daughter like she’s family. Any one of us would die for her. Do anything for her.”
His lids part, and his eyes snap to me. “I’m not asking about anyone else, just you.” He stabs the air. “Do you have feelings for my daughter?”
“Why are you asking me this? Is something wrong?” I turn to the side, half expecting to see her there now. “Is she okay?” I face him again, only to find him still leering at me.
“I have to know how far you’re willing to go for my daughter before we continue this conversation.”
“To the ends of the fucking earth,” I rasp without second thought. “And if I die in the process, I’ll come back from the dead and do it again.”
He straightens his posture, and something in his expression settles down. Don’t know how to explain the transformation, it just . . . happens. “I know I can trust you with her life, what I want to know is if I can trust you with her heart?”
Every logical thought shatters inside my head in real time. “Gwen has to entrust me with her heart first,” I admit, my voice rough with my heart racing so fast.
“And if she does?”
I inhale and hold that breath captive for a few seconds before letting it and the truth go. “Without a doubt, yes, you can.”
His jaw tightens, and the word, “Good,” cuts free from his barely parted lips.
I stagger back, because what the hell just happened? Did he just give us his nod of approval?
The weight of a thousand tomorrows is lifted from my shoulders. But I can feel the heavy hand of something new about to come my way.
“Now that I know how you feel about her . . . I need you to do something for me.”
And there it is.
“She won’t listen to me.” He quietly stares at me. “But I’m praying she’ll listen to you.” He wraps a hand over my shoulder and leans in. “And for what it’s worth, I’m fairly certain my daughter’s already entrusted you with her heart, whether she realizes it or not.”
As soon as Mya leaves, I shut the door. My forehead greets the wood, and I rest my palms on the door as I work to dial down my pulse.
I’m not ready to face Gwen yet. I’m too shook up after Wyatt filled me in on her backup plan to plead guilty and fake her death.
She doesn’t say anything. Neither do I. We just quietly exist in the same space as a storm of uncertainty gathers around us.
I’m not sure how long we stay like this, but she makes the first move. She places her hands above the waistband of my sweats at my sides.
I close my eyes. Long enough to remember why I’m here, not long enough to stop myself from wanting to forget.
“Am I hurting your back in this position?”
“No, just my heart.” It’s breaking into a million pieces at the idea of her willingness to sacrifice herself to save the teams. Even if it’s a temporary resolution, I refuse to let her plead guilty to a crime she didn’t commit. For the world to blame and hate her for a day, let alone a minute.
When she starts to pull away, I push off the door and go for her hands, tugging them back in place and keeping her flush against me.
“I won’t let you do this.” My voice shakes. “None of us will.”
“It’s just a backup plan, and only if absolutely necessary. But come on, if you were in my position, you wouldn’t do the same?”
I swallow. “Of course I would. I’m allowed to burn down my world to protect you, not the other way around.”
“Hypocrite,” she whispers.
I let go of her so I can turn around. “You’ll have to get through me, then your father, and the rest of this entire floor after that if you think you’re going to plead guilty.”
My arms tense up as my fingers itch to reach for her, but if I do, she might win me over. Make me forget the mission her father tasked me with.
“I’m not trying to upset you or my dad. This is about putting the greater good and our team above myself.”
“Sorry, there’s no version of this story that ends with you being the sacrifice.”
“This is real life, not a story.”
“Good,” I grunt. “Glad you see that, which means”—I dip my head to meet her eyes—“the good guys don’t always win, the hostage sometimes dies before we can save them, and the girl doesn’t always end up with the guy at the end.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Then don’t offer up absurd backup plans that involve you ruining your life in any way, shape, or form.
I don’t even want to hear you say you’re willing to break a fingernail for us.
” Her breath stutters, and I can’t be an asshole this long to her.
Don’t have it in me. I reach out and cup her cheek to soften the blow as much as possible. “Do you understand me?”
She remains quiet, defiance shimmering in her eyes. “Not yet.” She lifts her chin, and I slip my hand from her cheek into her hair. “Looks like you’re going to have to do a better job at making me.” Her voice is silk. A dare wrapped in heat.
I lean in, close enough to feel her breath against my mouth, forcing myself to exhale slowly through my nose, like control is something I can still choose.
Her gaze falls to my chest, and I tug her hair, commanding her eyes back on mine.
“Not very gentlemanly of you.” Her brows lift in challenge.
“Is that what you really want? A gentleman?” My voice is dark. Dangerously deep. I’m hanging on the edge here, because the things I want to do to her?
God help me, I can’t give in.
Not at a time like this.
She buries her fingernails into my biceps, and my free hand slides to her waist. I draw her tight to me so I can feel every inch of her, and so she can feel what she’s doing to me.
Devastatingly hard. Painfully aroused. Two seconds away from fuck it sex.
“You will do exactly what I say when it comes to your safety.” I need to stay on track here. To resist temptation. To resist her. “This is not up for discussion.”
She rolls her hips forward, a soft, broken sound slipping out of her. Her stubbornness is fighting for a front-row seat with her desire to be controlled by me within the four walls of a bedroom.
I want to.
Believe me, I do.
I want to give her what she wants and so much more.
“You want me to tell you what to do, don’t you?” I growl out, losing my damn mind.
“Yes,” she confesses. “I want you to take me hard, E. I want you to take—”
I curse, my control snapping. I disregard every warning flashing through my head and set my hands under her ass and lift her off the floor.
She gasps, locking her legs around my waist like she was made to be there.
Our mouths crash together, and there’s nothing sweet about it this time. Teeth, heat, and hunger. Like we’re trying to steal something from each other we’d happily give.
I walk us across the room, and I land on the bed, dropping down so she’s sitting on my lap.
She shifts around, working herself into a better position to grind against my erection.
I trace my mouth from her lips to her shoulder and back again, slow and teasing.
As she moves against me, I slide my hands down her back, across her waist, settling over her thighs.
My thumbs draw lazy circles over the thin fabric of her yoga pants as I hold her.
A moan of surrender vibrates against my lips as I grip her hips while she rubs against me, like she’s riding me through nothing but heat and friction.
Her fingers tangle in the hair at the back of my head before moving down to grasp my arms, holding on as she chases what I wish I could give her without consequences.
But right outside this door is a fire we still have to put out.
She breaks the kiss and rests her forehead on mine, breathing hard, as my hands climb her sides and settle at the small of her back to keep her close. “We should stop, shouldn’t we?” she asks, not even trying to hide the pout in her voice and on her lips.
“We shouldn’t have started,” I admit, but . . . “How close are you?”