He’s a walking contradiction—danger and warmth, restraint and recklessness, a man who shouldn’t be touching me but just made me come so hard I saw stars.
“He’s not perfect… Crawford men are far from perfect.” Savannah’s voice softens. “But he’s a protector, and his heart is pure gold.”
“Not all Crawford men are protectors,” I mutter before I can stop myself.
“I’m not talking about that little shitface.” Savannah tilts her head,eyes narrowing slightly, her voice laced with venom. For all her sunshine and sweetness, I see it now—beneath the long blonde hair and that innocent smile, she’s got some serious bite when it comes to the people she cares about. “Besides, he’s a Beauford. That whole family is known for their pretentious, self-righteous crap. Different breed entirely.”
“Have you always known Travis?”
“I was with Christian the day he found out that woman was pregnant. The only reason she even told him was because her parents had kicked her out for a few days. So she ran here, used him, then went right back home like nothing happened. Pretty sure she never would’ve said a damn thing if her parents hadn’t reacted the way they did.”
“So you’ve met Meredith?”
“Once, but that was enough.” She reaches for a cookie, breaking it with a sharp snap. “I don’t know exactly what’s going on between you and Christian, but I know Travis did something bad, and that man in there?” She tilts her head toward the house. “He’d burn the whole world down to protect someone he cares about, even if he’s trying to convince himself he shouldn’t. So if you’re thinking of going down this road, understand what you’re stepping into. Christian doesn’t just give his heart—he hands over every piece of himself with no hesitation, no half measures. He loves like it’s instinct, like it’s the only way he knows how, and the ones who earn that kind of devotion? Well, they’re the luckiest souls in the whole of Rosewood.”
A car engine roars up the driveway, and when we both turn to look, my heart sinks straight to my boots.
Travis.
“Oh, hell no.” Savannah doesn’t hesitate, already marching up toward the house like she’s ready to go to war. I follow, not because I’m prepared to face my ex-boyfriend, but because I need to know what’s happening, and I sure as hell don’t want Christian dealing with him alone.
Every step toward the front door feels heavier, like I’m dragging the weight of everything I don’t want to face.
I’m not afraid of Travis.
I just don’t want to be near him.
Savannah throws open the door like she’s leading a one-woman army. “Travis, get your ass out here!”
When he appears in the doorway, sporting two spectacular black eyes, I don’t feel an ounce of remorse.
“I’m getting my shit, Savannah. Back off.” His gaze slides to me, and I watch his eyes roam every inch of my face.
I know exactly what he’s looking for. He’s checking me for the mark he left, the one I’ve buried under layers of makeup. Because like hell am I letting his handiwork be the reason Christian keeps his distance from me.
“Find what you’re looking for?” I arch a brow, silently conveying what we both know—yeah, asshole, I know exactly what you’re searching my face for.
“Can we talk?”
“Not a fucking chance.” Christian’s voice rolls through the room like thunder, and suddenly he’s there, filling the space with a presence that makes Travis look small in comparison. Christian plants himself between us like a human shield, every inch the protective alpha male. “I warned you not to show your face here.”
I can’t take my eyes off Christian as he tugs his white T-shirt into place, catching a flash of golden skin before the fabric molds to his body.
Christian Crawford isn’t just a man, he’s a goddamn masterpiece.
“Oh good, more threats. Just what I needed.” Travis’s jaw works like he’s chewing glass, clearly put out that no one here wants a damn thing to do with him. Strange, since he’s always acted like he preferred it that way, but I guess it hits different when everyone around you can’t stand the sight of you. “I just came to grab my stuff and talk to Piper. Then I’m out.”
“We can talk.” Christian’s head whips toward me so fast I swear I hear his neck crack, and even Savannah goes still, like she’s watching a bomb about to detonate. “You’ve got two minutes.”
Both men step forward, but Savannah’s hand shoots out, flat against Christian’s chest, preventing him from charging forward, and the mountain of a man actually stops. I can feel the strain in Christian’sbody from where I’m standing, the way his muscles tense under Savannah’s palm like he’s one second away from snapping. But he listens to her silent command, even though I can tell it’s costing him every ounce of his self-control.
I step out onto the porch, and Travis follows, his gaze locked on me like he’s waiting for me to break or beg, or whatever twisted thing he’s convinced himself will happen here. Instead, I lean against the wooden beam, crossing my arms over my chest, eyes steady on his.
Travis looks like shit, his left eye more puffy than the right, and the bruised skin around it has darkened to an ugly purple-black that spreads across his cheekbone.
“What could you possibly have to say to me?”
“Don’t be like that, Piper. You’re not exactly innocent here.”
