This woman might be the greatest way to go down and lose it all.
“You’re luckier than you realize, Dean.”
The hell I am.
Taking the bottle from her and bringing it to my lips, I chug. My tastebuds pucker as Chardonnay pours down my throat.
“I’ve got nothing and no one,” I say, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “If that’s luck, it’s bad.”
“You have Nick. And you now have me. You’re winning at life, my guy, whether you know it or not.”
She tries to take the bottle from me, but I don’t let it go. Instead, I use it to pull her into my chest. Again, Bryson’s words assault me.“We both know you’ll come begging one day, sweetheart. I’m looking forward to seeing you on your knees. You mother will be so proud.”
“I’ll make that Christmas Tree Killer look like an amateur if Bryson ever threatens you again, Grace. The fact that he touched you has me seeing red.” My muscles tighten. “Fucking hell, I don’t even want him breathing the same air as you. Or air at all for that matter.”
She blushes at my confession.
Which makes me add… “I don’t want another man touching you.”
There. I said it. I’m a possessive prick.
“Well, you can relax, killer, because no one wants to touch me with a ten-foot pole.”
She’s wrong about that. I don’t just want to touch her. I want to lick, suck, kiss, and fuck her. “I do. Does that bother you?”
Her gaze slowly searches my face, I guess to figure out if I’m serious or not. “I think allowing you between my thighs already should be answer enough.”
It’s not. Things have changed since this morning. “Do you really want to stay here through the winter?”
“Do you really want me to leave next week?” she counters.
Something’s weird with this wine. Surely one sip of some fermented grapes can’t make me this fucking stupid, right? I’ve already said too much. And I’m about to do worse.
Grace shrugs. “I’m sure Bryson’s already making calls to start more trouble. Jackson will hear about what happened here and then he’ll likely tell my mother. Once she finds out I’m here, she’ll bulldoze her way into getting involved and make me leave so Clyde-Smith can get to you alone.” She pinches the bridge of her nose. “My happy little bubble is going to pop too soon.”
My heart swells hearing her say that this place is her happy bubble. I know that feeling intimately.
“Your parents really have that much control over you?” I can’t imagine what her life is like.
“I’m not on a short leash, Dean. I’m in a choke-collar, locked in a cage that’s way too small.” Her gaze casts to the floor. “I hate my life. I hate that I can’t breathe. I hate that I’m always in a gossip circle or news column. I hate that my mom has used me and my brothers as bargaining chips to feed her bank accounts and status. It sucks and I’m lonely.”
Holy hell. How can Grace be treated by her family like that? I can’t even fathom it. Then again, I was nothing more than a burden to my parents and was sent to live with my grandfather when I was eight. I didn’t have anything to do with my mom or dad after the age of thirteen, when I told mygrandfather I never wanted to see them again, which was fine by everyone. That was a long time ago, and I’ve never regretted it.
Saying goodbye to family is sometimes the best gift one can give themselves.
This mountain saved me. Could it save Grace, too?
“Stay with me.”
Her brow pinches. “What?”
“If you want to be here through winter, you have to stay with me. At my house.”
Concern gives her a guarded expression. I don’t blame her. This is nuts.
“I have a spare bedroom.” Rubbing the back of my neck, I go full steam ahead. “I’d feel better keeping you safe with me at my house. That’s my condition if you’re going to stay up here through winter.”
Holy hell, what’s wrong with me? I’ve never acted this recklessly in my life. She’s going to say no. Sheshouldsay no. She doesn’t know me at all. She can’t live with a stranger, in a secluded house, on a mountain with shoddy cell service…for months.
