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I grinned at them as they made their way out the door, silently wishing it’d hit the asshole on the way out.
“Morning, Dylan.”
Katie’s voice pulled me from my dark trance as my shoulders relaxed. Her tousled blonde tresses and rich chocolate eyes framed a beautiful heart-shaped face.
The delicate curve of her neck reached shoulders that were smattered with freckles from growing up in the sun. Her breasts were ample and perky, and her hips were curved like a racetrack I’d always dreamed of taking a spin on.
“How long have you been standin’ there, doll?” I asked.
“Long enough to know I made the right choice. Thank you… for everything.”
“There’s no need to thank me. You know that.”
“Well I’m grateful anyway. Why do you bury your accent when you’re working,” she asked.
“Because while we cater to a decadent country lifestyle, many people still feel a deep southern accent’s more fittin’ of an idiot than a man in a suit. It’s good to see you out and about. Looks like a night of rest did you some good.” I said.
“If you can call it that,” she said with a snicker. “I’m sorry for hiding.”
“Don’t be sorry for nonsense like that. Come ‘ere.”
I opened my arms to her body, and she fell into my embrace. There were notes of vanilla in her hair, a far cry from the tangy notes I recalled from her younger years. She was soft and warm. Delicate in my arms and trembling on her feet. She wasn’t the young girl I remembered. The powerful, sassy, cussing little thing that enjoyed bonfires and slinging back bottles of beer to keep up with the likes of us.
“I hate that I caused you all so much trouble,” Katie said.
“Don’t be,” I said as I rubbed her back. “I’d rather deal with all this than you bein’ in some shitty marriage. Harder to clean up those messes.”
“I should’ve never made the mess in the first place.”
“The important thing is you’re okay,” I said.
“I don’t think I am.”
“Then the important thing is you’re gonna be okay.”
She snuggled closer to me, and I tightened my grasp. Visions of her eighteenth birthday flashed through my mind. The first and last time I’d ever held this woman the way I wanted to. The first and last time I’d ever felt her body this close. I knew she was recuperating, and I knew she was vulnerable, but I wanted to kiss her. To tilt her head up toward mine and warm her with my tongue.
But I knew better. She needed space to grieve and cope and plan her next steps.
“Thanks,” Katie said.
“Anytime, doll. You know this.”
She looked up at me with her sparkling brown eyes and her pin-straight hair. She was flattening out her curls, and I found that I missed them. Her hair sat on her shoulders and fluttered around her cheeks, but all I could see were those bouncing curls hanging down her back.
She had changed so much, and it only served to stoke my anger for Michael’s part in all this.
He’d done this to her. Changed her. I knew he had.
“I’m going to go get some breakfast,” Katie said. “You want anything?”
“Already ate, doll. You go enjoy yourself. And your room’s rented out as long as you need it. “
“You didn’t have to do that,” she said with a grin.
I watched a flush taint her cheeks. She was so sexy it hurt to look at her.
Fuck, I wanted to kiss her.
