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“Gas and fake logs. But I do the real thing in the living room.”
She turned into him and drew close. He opened his arm and she didn’t hesitate to nestle against him, resting her head in the well of his shoulder.
She felt his distress, though, a tension rippling from him.
Fatigue, however, descended on her. She needed to sleep and to recover from everything that had happened throughout the long night. “Don’t worry, Rez. You don’t have to love me. Sweet Goddess, I’m tired.”
With that, she drifted off.
~ ~ ~
Rez knew sleep took Holly, but he remained awake.
He chuckled. So, he didn’t have to love her. How had she known his concern ran that direction? But then, she was very fae.
He didn’t normally go for fae woman. On the other hand, Holly wasn’t in the usual mold. He touched his neck where she’d bitten him. For one thing, she had rare fae fangs.
For another, he might have met his match with her especially as a blood rose.
She felt good against his side. He could get used to this.
Except, then again, he couldn’t. He’d promised himself. No more. Never again.
When his family had died, a part of him had perished with them. He’d been left with a cold, dead heart. He couldn’t explain it any other way. He didn’t have the capacity for love at this point.
Holly had been spot on. He couldn’t love her. He couldn’t love anyone. Death had taken his heart.
What he needed from her now was her time-pathing which he planned to use to find his daughter.
He smiled. Sweet Goddess, his daughter was alive. Holly had seen it in a vision.
He put a hand to his chest and rubbed.
His beautiful daughter Isobel. So much like her mother.
His eyes burned. He couldn’t imagine what her life had been like for two years, the horror she’d suffered.
He couldn’t do anything for her right now, though, not with the sun up. But as soon as full dark arrived, he’d be ready and Holly was committed to helping him.
Finally, his eyes closed and he dropped into a sleep about as fast as Holly had.
Sometime later, he awoke abruptly. Holly was thrashing.
As he sat up, she swung her arm wide. With her fist closed, she clobbered him in the face.
Instinctively, he caught her arm. He expected her to wake up. Instead, with eyes closed, she settled down. He released his hold on her arm and she turned on her side away from him.
He lay back down. But with his adrenaline pumping, he had a hard time falling back asleep.
Maybe an hour or two later, the same thing occurred. She was moaning and moving her head around, then her hips. Her legs came next. He had enough sense to catch her arms before she hit him again. But this time, she was talking, “I can’t fall in love with a man who makes war. I won’t lose another one.”
Since Holly had never dated a fighting man, he knew she was talking about the loss of her brother, Scott.
His issues were as dark as they could get. But he often forgot what it was like for Holly that she’d lost her best friend when her brother had died.
They’d both suffered deep, painful losses.
He moved in behind her, spooning her. He wrapped his arm around her tight and pulled her close. “You’re okay, Baby.” He kept his voice low and petted her head. “We’ll both be okay. You’ll see.”
