“I’ve got her.” God, I’d give Sophie Wilde whatever she needs, even the moon if she asked me. I only hope she wants my heart. Because it already belongs to her.
The door closes behind Eli. The house goes quiet.
Sophie hasn’t moved from the counter. She holds the spatula, but the pan is too hot. The onions are charring. I reach past her and turn off the stove eye.
Her lower lip quivers. “I should’ve told them when I came back.”
“You weren’t ready.”
“I should’ve been.”
“Sophie…”
She closes her eyes. She doesn’t cry, but her shoulders drop.
I don’t touch her. I want to, but I don’t.
Sophie has carried what happened in Seattle alone and tonight the three men who love and adore her learned her secret. She doesn’t seem to know what to do now that she’s not the only one who knows.
Eyes open, she picks up the drink she made me. “If I drank, I’d chug this.”
“Doubt that’s how it’s supposed to be drunk.”
“It’s not.” She hands me the glass. “Try it.”
As I take a sip and savor the flavors, Sophie watches me.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Bourbon. Maple. A little smoke. The thyme is fresh from Roz’s planter.”
“It’s good.”
That earns me a genuine smile. One won’t be enough. “Thank you.”
“Thank you,” she repeats. “Not sure I could handle Jesse, Mason, and Eli wanting to be my bodyguards, even though I love them.”
I take the spatula out of her hand. Get the onions going in a fresh pan. “The Wilde men are strong and capable, but they aren’t…”
“What?”
I wink. “Me.”
Sophie smiles a little wider this time, which gives me hope that I’ll not only keep her safe, but salvage today for her.
seven
. . .
Logan
Sophie turns off the stove,waves the spatula like a sword, then stabs at the air. “Take that, you vile scum.”
This is the woman I remember from all those years ago: fiery, playful and full of life even when the world is pressing down on her. The sight of her like this, fighting back with humor instead of fear makes my respect for her grow even more. “What are you doing?”
Her face flushes. “Practicing.”
I probably shouldn’t ask, though I don’t think she means me. “For what?”
