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“I can walk!”
“The ground is rough,” he says. “I won’t risk you hurting your feet further.”
“It’s fine, I’m sure I can make it to the door.”
“No,” Gunner growls with such authority, it has my stomach clenching with need. “Don’t argue with me, pixie.”
I decide to listen to the man, wrapping my arms around his shoulders as he carries me bridal-style to his house. I expect him to struggle opening the door with me in his arms, but the giant navigates smoothly, as if he does this every day.
“Are you married?” I blurt out, resisting the urge to palm my forehead. What am I doing?
“Uh . . . that’s a strange thing to ask.”
“Is it?”
“Definitely not what I was expecting from you.”
“I just thought I should know if someone else is here.” He probably can’t see it, but I am sweating a storm. I am not usually this direct, and while it’s not intentional, I’m glad the focus is on his life and not on mine.
“No, Mila,” he says with a deep chuckle. “I am not married, and before you ask, I am not dating anyone either.”
“Great,” I say with a sigh before I realize what I’ve just done. “I mean, not great. Of course, being single at your age is not great, or my age for that matter. Did I mention that I turned twenty just a few weeks ago? I’m not married, in case you were wondering, or seeing anyone either. I’m single...”
Christ, why not propose while I am at it?
Shut. Up. Mila.
There is a long, awkward silence as Gunner carries me further into the house before he finally breaks it. “I don’t remember you being a nervous talker.” I don’t either. “In fact, I don’t remember you talking at all.”
“Yeah, well, I grew up.”
“Into a nervous speaker?”
My cheeks flare with mortification, and I figure it’s probably in my best interest to stay quiet.
Christ, I could have asked about the guy’s health or his family, although I don’t remember him having one. Hell, I could have asked about his boxing career, but no, I just had to ask him about his dating life and throw in a comment to remind him that I am of datable age now.
I mean, it could happen to anyone, right?
I shouldn’t be embarrassed. Awkward is the universal language for most people when presented with the opportunity to talk to their crushes. Fortunately, I am saved from embarrassing myself further when Gunner walks into a massive bathroom before seating me on the toilet.
“I’m going to help clean your feet and then treat any cuts you have, so you don’t get an infection,” he says as he opens drawers and rummages through them.
I stare up at the man who couldn’t have come back into my life at a more convenient time. “You don’t need to go to so much trouble, Gunner. It’s enough that you brought me here.”
“I want to.”
I nod and allow him to get on with the task. A long silence descends over us as Gunner cleans my feet before he decides to break it, his voice careful as he speaks. “Do you want to talk about what happened tonight?”
I chew on my lower lip and contemplate opening up to him about my stepfather and his plan to pass me off like I am a piece of property, but . . . a part of me is deeply ashamed.
It’s confusing. I have no reason to be ashamed of anything when I got dealt a terrible hand in terms of a stepfather, but I am. That and the fact that I don’t want to think about what happened tonight.
Or that Dennis will be looking for me, and with his connections, it won’t take long before he finds me.
My eyes shoot down when Gunner squeezes my calf to draw my attention. “You don’t have to say anything tonight or even tomorrow. I will wait until you are ready to share with me. AndMila, I want you to know that you have me now. I won’t let anything or anyone hurt you.”
My eyes well up with tears, and I look away, blinking them back. I’m scared to believe him, too terrified to believe that Gunner can protect me.
