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His feared inability to protect those he loved was breaking his heart, and that was breaking her heart. Because there was nothing she could do to ease his pain or to make those he loved, besides herself, understand the demons that tormented him.
Perhaps it was time she, Kelly, and Chaya had a talk with the stubborn and just as determined Mackay sisters.
ONE WEEK LATER
“Good morning, Mr. Samson; I hope you enjoyed your breakfast?” Piper met Guido Samson in the hall outside his room and gave him a warm smile.
The new lodger was a bit portly, his black hair thick, with a slight wave in the shortened length that was brushed back from his face to reveal a hint of gray at the temples. Dark, swarthy, just showing the lines of advancing age, he looked to be in his late fifties, though Piper bet he was in his early sixties.
He’d been at the inn four days and was already making his presence known, mostly by pissing Tim off. It seemed Guido couldn’t help but flirt outrageously with Mercedes Mackay.
“Ah, Miss Mackay. ” He stopped, holding his hand out to her.
As Piper extended hers he took it, raised it to his lips, and pressed a light kiss to it with charming ease before releasing it.
“And here is your young man. ” He looked over her shoulder, a broad smile pulling at his lips as Piper swore she could feel Jed coming up behind her.
“Morning, Mr. Samson. ” The deep, controlled drawl—controlled hunger, anger, and determination—sent a shiver racing down her spine.
That tone had only intensified over the past days, just as the gleam of determination in the navy blue gaze had only hardened and, at certain times, intensified.
“Ah, Mr. Booker, good morning,” Guido greeted him. “I am out for a day of sightseeing. I believe my son, Rhylan, is arriving this evening and hopes to find the best spots for a few days of fishing. ”
“The fishing here is excellent, Mr. Samson; I’m certain your son will find plenty of excellent spots. ” Edging around Guido’s portly frame, Jed curled his fingers around Piper’s upper arm. “Excuse us, please. Piper and I need to talk. ”
“Of course,” Guido murmured, amused. “Young people have many things to discuss privately. ”
His soft chuckle followed them up the hall as Jed led her to her room. Opening the room and stepping in, Piper quickly pulled her arm from his grip.
“Since when do we have things to discuss?” Piper asked roughly as the door closed behind them, very well aware of the fact that he let her go. She wasn’t free because she wanted to be; she was free because he let her be.
Crossing her arms beneath her breasts, she glared at him, wishing she could push back anger, guilt, or any of the other emotions tearing through her, as she could with her family.
She could stare back at Dawg and freeze any response to the knowledge that he was frightened for her, hurting for her, worried about her, or just plain pissed off at her.
Her sister Eve had always been so thankful to be accepted and loved by her brother and cousins that she would have done just about anything—anything but deny the man she loved.
Lyrica, a year younger than Piper, had such a guilt complex that she worried constantly that she would never be good enough, act properly enough, or be strong enough to be part of the Somerset Mackays. God only knew what their youngest sister, Zoey, felt. She rarely talked about it, and if asked would just laugh and say she was where she belonged. But Piper had always felt there was so much more beneath that statement.
Of the four of them their eldest sister, Eve, had handled Dawg best. They all loved him, but each of them had different ways of dealing with him.
Him, or any other man.
Unfortunately, the defenses Piper had built over the years didn’t work with Jed.
“Have you talked to Dawg yet?” he asked.
Piper looked away and shrugged. “He hasn’t been around for a while. ”
Guilt was lashing at her now.
God, she remembered the look on his face when he’d seen the bruises on hers. He looked as though someone had died. Or something inside him had died. She hadn’t seen him since.
“I’m going to talk to him,” she promised.
What the hell was it with Jed Booker?
He was just staring at her. There was no force, no guilt-inducing comments, just those dark, dark blue eyes watching her with that silent, deep curiosity.
