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“Cole,” I whisper. “What do we do about everything?”

“Go to sleep,” he demands, as if he already knows all my worries. His hand strokes through my hair. “Don’t worry. I have you.”

His declaration leaves me achy and breathless and grateful. His hand over my heart like a promise never to be broken.

I close my eyes and try to sleep, but my head pounds. Cole makes it sound so easy. In his arms, I’m not afraid. But morning will be here soon, and as I drift off, I wonder how many more nights I’ll have like this with him, how long I have before my past, and the man named Please, finds me again.

34 Cole

My gaze lowers to the sleeping woman in my bed. Delilah, tucked up into the pillow like it’s her own personal protector. Golden hair spills over her bare back. She looks small, soft, and fragile, and I let myself absorb her beauty.

I was rough with her last night. Rough in ways that threatened to shatter my very existence.

Every time I look at her, guilt bleeds into every ounce of me. I can’t pry my mind, my emotions away from yesterday. Someone tried to take her from me. Fear. It’s fucking everywhere. The thought of losing her did something feral and animalistic to my blood.

Moving closer, I run a hand over her silky hair. Delilah stirs, a soft whimper that makes my chest ache.

Obsession. But it’s more than that. Especially after last night, after what happened between us.

I need this girl. Can’t let her go. Won’t.

She’s all the good that exists in the world. The sweetness and light that carve up my daily routine. I don’t know how I lived without her. How I could have ever hardened myself to her. Forced her away.

I stand in awe of this woman. I told her about my past, and she took it without flinching.

Delilah releases a soft sigh and burrows deeper into the sheet. My gaze falls to the curve of her breast, those long slender legs, her smooth, golden skin.

Enchantress. Vixen. There are so many words I could use to describe Delilah, but my favorite one is: mine.

After last night, it’s clear. The lengths I’m willing to go for her are endless.

I leave her sleeping and change. When I return, with black coffee, she’s awake. I smile when I see her in my old PBR T-shirt. I’ve come to consider it hers.

“Sleep okay?” I kiss her lips, stroking a thumb across her cheekbone.

Her cheeks warm. “Better than.”

I hand her the coffee and move to my dresser. Now that it’s morning and my mind’s clear, there’s shit to do. My brothers have taken care of the mess in the barn. And I’ll take care of Delilah.

I open the first drawer and clear out a stack of T-shirts. “What’re you doing?” Delilah’s soft voice at my back.

“Cleaning you out a drawer.” I turn to see Delilah’s fingertips go to her lips, smothering a smile.

“Cole, no.”

“Darlin’, yes.”

I’ll hear her arguments because it’s fucking adorable when she’s stubborn, but in the end, I’ll win.

“I want you to stay at the ranch.”

“I am at the ranch.”

“I want you to stay with me.” No way in hell am I letting her out of my sight. After yesterday, there’s no doubt she’s in something dark. Someone’s after her.

“Cole…”

She tries again, but I silence her protest with a stern look. The fact that she thinks she’s walking around Tempest unprotected is laughable. “Someone’s after you, Delilah. This Please fucker. He tried to fucking kidnap you.” Just the memory makes my heart race. “You’re not staying alone.”