Chapter Eighteen
MARLEY
“NO. I’M not leaving.” I look at the two men standing in front of me like they’ve lost their minds. They started with demands that I go pack a bag and now have moved to looking at me like I’m being deliberately difficult.
I haven’t reached difficult yet, but I can.
The sound of the breeze through the trees and the horses huffing in their paddocks behind me is the only sound as I look between them.
“Marley, please.” Brana’s frosty blue eyes have moved on to pleading, but I won’t leave my horses.
I shake my head. “No.”
“We don’t know what they might do next. It’s not safe, Marley.” Mason is trying to be forceful, but I won’t be pushed.
Locking eyes with him, I shake my head again. “No.”
“Marley, I’ll take care of your horses, it’ll just be a few days.” Mason says, the same pitiful, pleading look on his face that Brana is giving me.
Taking a step to the side, I smile and wave my hand to the gelding, who doesn’t like men, that I’ve had to start over with at square one because of the explosion yesterday. “Be my guest.”
All three of us turn our heads toward the round pen and look at the beautiful horse who is looking at the two men on the other side of me like he would rather put a hoof in their side than let them get close to him.
When no one moves, I turn back to Mason. “And besides, if you knew for sure this would be over in a few days, you wouldn’t be sending everyone away. I’ve got your number Mason Wade, you can’t talk your circles around me.”
He narrows his eyes at me, and we stare at each other, a battle of wills that he knows he can’t win. He may be the bigger, stronger one, but I’m just as stubborn as he and Gray put together.
Brana huffs a breath. “Fine, but you don’t go anywhere without me. I will be your shadow for the foreseeable future.”
Shrugging my shoulder, I smile sweetly at him. “Fine.” I can think of worse things than having a gorgeous man following me around. The help will be useful through the day, anyway.
“I mean it, Lepa, you can’t go anywhere without me until this is settled.” Brana sets his hands on his hips, the muscles of his forearms shifting under his skin. When did a man’s forearms start making me feel warm all over?
“I’m not arguing with you.” I slide my hands in the front pockets of my jeans shorts and lift my shoulders in a submissive shrug.
Jax’s eyes dip to my chest, and then my waist, and quickly flick back up. His eyebrows twitch together, and he turns his head to look at the gelding in the pen again.
Did he just check me out?
More importantly, did I like it?
Based on the butterflies punching around in my stomach and wanting his attention, I’m going to go out on a limb and say, undoubtedly, yes.
Shaking my head to refocus, I ask, “Am I the only one staying?”
Mason lifts his ball cap and scratches the edge of the bill on his head before he flips it around and sets it back down on his head. One of his tells that he’s frustrated. “No, Hallie is staying, too.”
Stepping over to my twin, I set my hand on his forearm. “Everything is going to be fine, all of you guys are here and, I promise, I’ll be more aware of my surroundings.”
Eyes that look like mine stare down at me and he lowers his head a little to speak softer. “I can’t let anything happen, it almost killed me last time.”
Swallowing around the lump in my throat, I recall his guilt after I was attacked and whisper, “Bubby, you’ve got to stop blaming yourself.
No one could have known he was in that field.
” I rarely call him bubby anymore, it was my childhood nickname for him, and I only use it as an adult when I’m feeling emotional.
Letting any part of that night into my head has the power to send me into a spiral that can have me up all night with nightmares, so I try my damndest to push all the memories out.
His hand gently closes around my arm protectively. “Promise me you’ll be vigilant. You’ll let me know if you see anything, and I mean anything, unusual.”
I smile at him. “You’ll be the first person I look for.”
He nods as he wraps his hand around the back of my head and kisses me on the forehead before turning to go back to the house.
He only gets five steps before I yell at him. “Hey.”
He turns and shields his hand over his eyes since he turned his cap around and the bill isn’t shading his eyes from the sun. “Yeah.”
I smile even bigger. “You’re going to be a great father, you know that?”
His smile comes back bigger, and his chest puffs out. “That’s what Sloane keeps saying.” This time when he turns from me, he is happy and that makes me happy.
Turning to walk to the stables, I come face to face with Brana leaning against the tree next to the structure, watching me. His arms are crossed over his chest, the t-shirt he’s wearing is hugging his swollen biceps and stretching over the dips and curves of his defined chest.
The man could be a Greek statue.
I pause for a moment and look at his strong tan arms and the tattoos that cover his skin.
For the first time, I wonder what he looks like with his shirt off.
Does he have tattoos all over his chest and back, too?
I don’t remember wondering what a man looks like without their shirt and the thought takes me by surprise.
Lifting my eyes back up to his, I see amusement on his face. He caught me checking him out. Suddenly, it feels like the temperature went up by ten degrees, my head feels hot, and I know my face is red.
Clearing my throat, I look down at my feet and walk past him into the stables, into the familiar smell of hay, horse sweat and poop. I can hear his slow footfalls behind me as I step into the grooming stall, but he doesn’t say anything.
Since we are moving into July, the days are getting warmer and now that I’m inside the stables and the breeze has all but stopped, I can feel the sweat breaking out across my still red chest and forehead.
I walk to the back of the grooming stall and push the door of the window open.
The air blows across my face, cooling the beads of sweat on my forehead, and my hair blows off my face.
For just a second, I close my eyes and appreciate the feeling.
Brana has stepped to the doorway of the grooming stall and is leaning against the frame with one foot crossed over the other and his arms across his chest again.
I can feel his eyes on me, like sunbeams making me even hotter, but I keep my head down and avoid eye contact.
I’m pretty sure that what I just did outside is the first time, as an adult woman, I have ever shown any type of boldness or interest in a man and my heart is beating so hard I think he can probably hear it rattling my ribs.
Grabbing a broom, I start to walk by him again, but he pushes off the wall as he reaches out and his large hand circles my wrist, stopping me.
The contact is gentle and sends warmth up my arm and I look down, his golden-tan skin is darker than mine and the scars and tattoos on his hand give him a weathered look against my softer, lighter skin.
“Lepa.” The deep baritone of his voice is soft and moves over my skin, giving me goose pimples. “Look at me, slast.” [sweetness]
Lifting my eyes to the frosty blue of his, I try not to look as embarrassed as I feel. I pull my lower lip between my teeth and focus on not looking away from him, and his eyes dip to my mouth.
He lifts his other hand and gently slides his thumb across my bottom lip, pulling it from between my teeth. That small gesture sends heat low into my belly.
“Do you know how beautiful you are to me?” His gaze softly moves over my face before he locks his eyes on mine again. His thumb is lazily sliding across the skin of my wrist, sending sparks up my arm like I’ve never felt before.
When I don’t answer him, he says, “Just a look from you makes my heart soar, so imagine how high I felt when you just looked at me outside. Do you like what you see, Lepa?” He tilts his head to the side, his thumb still moving over my skin.
I swallow so loudly they probably heard me up in the main house. He’s always honest with me, always so cautious and respectful. I want to be honest with him in return. I don’t think I could speak right now if I tried, so I just nod my head.
Without taking his eyes from mine, he grasps the broom in my hand and leans it against the wall next to us. “I want to kiss you so badly right now, will you let me kiss you?”
All sounds around me are drowned out by the sound of my blood whooshing in my ears, he links the fingers of the hand that just set the broom aside with mine as he waits for me to answer.
I whisper, “Yes.” With a small nod.
Letting go of my wrist, he cups my cheek, his thumb slides across my skin as he whispers, “Da sam danas umro, umro bih srec?an ?ovek.” [If I died today, I would die a happy man]
The breath from his whisper ghosts across my lips as his eyes volley between mine.
His lips are soft and warm, and I close my eyes to let myself feel him, feel his lips, his hands holding me, his breath on my cheek, and his hard chest against mine. Desire floods my center, the strength of it makes all my nerve endings stand up and reach for him.
Pulling my fingers from his, I slide my palms up his arms to his shoulders as I roll up onto my toes.
His hand that I just freed wraps around my waist, pulling me into him, his large palm is warm on my back.
Every part of me feels alive. He slowly slides his tongue across my bottom lip, requesting permission, asking for me to open, and I meet him halfway.
The heat and desire overtaking me is making my head spin and I want to see all of him. The strength of those feelings surprises me, and I gasp as I break the kiss, leaning back just enough to make eye contact with him.
His lips tip up on one side as his eyes move between mine. “You okay?”
“MmHm.” Except that my panties are wet, holy shit, my panties are wet. I suppress the smile that is trying to spread across my face. I almost feel like a normal woman with normal woman issues.
Humor dances in his eyes. “Did you like that?”
“MmHm.”
He’s looking at me like he can read my mind. My face flushes bright red and I cover my lips with the fingers of one hand.
Tipping his head back, he laughs, and his arm tightens around my waist. “It’s suddenly very hot in here, no?”
It’s one of the best sounds I’ve heard, I don’t remember hearing him laugh like that before. He chuckles, jokes and cuts up, but he never laughs. It makes me chuckle. “It is hot in here.”
The light in his eyes dances. “Have you ever been on a motorcycle?”
My smile falls. I have never been on a motorcycle.
He laughs again. “It’s okay, its completely safe, and it will cool both of us off. It’s almost like riding a horse.”
“Except much faster. And there are other fast cars around you.” My voice is soft and laced with fear.
“Do you trust me?” His smile falls and I want it to come back.
Do I trust him? My eyes fall to his mouth as I think about the weight of that question. I haven’t trusted anyone outside of my family in a long time. He waits patiently as I take a walk through my mind.
Do I trust him?
Yes, I do.
My eyes move back up to his and I say, “I trust you.”
His smile comes back. “Good. Let’s take a ride.”
He lets me go and holds out his hand for me to take.
“What about the horses?” I say, waving my hand toward the paddocks.
“I promise, we won’t be long. No longer than thirty minutes. Just long enough for a break.”
Looking down at his outstretched hand, I think about the last fourteen years.
Everything I do is safe, I never leave the ranch unless it’s to get something for the horses.
For years, I’ve wrestled with the fear of living, the fear of getting hurt, the fear of falling into a dark hole that once took me years to climb out of, all while knowing I’ve been stuck in limbo because of my fears.
The man in front of me, patiently holding out his hand while waiting for me to work through my thoughts, has done nothing but be kind, understanding, and chivalrous. I don’t feel fear when I’m around him, quite the opposite, I feel safe and protected.
My heart is rattling my ribs again, but I lift my eyes to his and smile as I place my hand in his.