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“I can’t believe how well we fit together,” Eryn said, her finger drawing little circles on my chest.
I laughed. “There’s not any part of you that should fit here. That should fit me.” I sat up now, needing her to look at me. “But princess, you fit me better than anyone ever has.”
“You mean it?”
“Of course I do. I don’t say things just for show. And I don’t claim someone if I don’t intend to follow through.” I pressed a kiss to her forehead, then nose, then lips.
“You’re mine now, you hear me? I’d go to hell and back before I’d let you walk out of my life. You’re mine,” I repeated, sealing it with a kiss. And then another. And then another, until the world disappeared and all that was left was the two of us. As it should be.
22
Eryn
After an incredible night at Gray’s, one in which he worshipped my body too many times to count, I snuck out early and headed home to my little slice of heaven to get back to work. I’d had to borrow an old t-shirt and a pair of his shorts, both of which were comically large on me, but smelled of him, giving me a warm fuzzy feeling every time I took a breath.
Last night with Gray had been . . . well, it’d been something like a country song—the kind with whiskey-rough vocals and a twang that hums right through you. I was humming too, all light and bubbly with thoughts of us tangled together under his rough cotton sheets.
That little scene in the study was maybe the hottest thing I’d ever experienced in my life. The way he talked to me, commanded me, took what he wanted and gave just as much back . . . it was enough to fuel my fantasies for the rest of my life. But I was feeling optimistic I wouldn’t need fantasy fuel. I’d have the real thing.
I stepped out of my car, a piece of gravel catching in my sandal and scraping my toe. I should have seen that as an omen.
I’d been happily humming all morning when the sight before me wiped the smile right off my face. My eyes immediately drew to the side of the house. My brand new commercial air conditioner lay in a battered and twisted heap of metal on the grass. This wasn't just vandalism—it was a declaration of war.
“Who would do this?” I whispered to myself, my heart pounding against my chest. Fury bloomed inside me, hot and unyielding. I whipped out my phone, fingers trembling as I tapped Gray’s name in my contacts.
The phone rang twice before he answered, his voice rough with sleep. “Princess, why aren’t you still in my bed?”
“Gray, you need to come over—now,” I said, voice thick with emotion.
“What's wrong?” His tone immediately shifted to concerned alertness. I heard him moving, probably dressing.
“Someone smashed up my place—my air conditioner. It’s all destroyed.”
There was a beat of silence, then the sound of him moving fast, rustling, urgency building. “Is anyone else there?”
I looked around. “No. I mean, I don’t think so.”
“Okay, baby, please just get in your car and lock the doors anyway. Do that for me, will you?”
“Yeah, okay,” I said, barely registering why he’d ask such a thing. But I got into the car and pressed the lock button. I heard him sigh.
“I'm on my way.”
* * *
When Gray arrived not two minutes later, he looked every inch the furious cowboy protector, muscles tense beneath his flannel shirt, his blue eyes sparking dangerously like lightning in a mountain storm.
I opened the car door, and he pulled me out, hugging me to him, kissing my forehead. I was never in any danger, but clearly, he felt I could have been. And his need to hold me, to feel for himself that I was okay, was enough to bring tears to my eyes.
He pulled back, bending down to make me look at him at eye level. “We’re gonna fix this, you hear? You’re okay, and we’ll fix it.”
I nodded, the tears threatening to spill over onto my cheeks.
“Now show me,” he growled, following me to the wreckage.
“Look at this mess,” I said, gesturing helplessly at the carnage. “All my plans for this business have taken a hit. It’s like one thing after another.”
I paced the perimeter of my home, taking stock of the damage, not letting the tightness in my throat win out.
