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You’ve got to be kidding me.
“But you got her cherry, so…” Noah adds snidely.
I look at him hard. I know he’s right. They’d be a lot more suited to her than I would.
But…
“I like her,” Noah says, his voice unusually gentle. “‘There are times when I just want to be close to her.”
I meet his eyes.
“I’m not going to stop myself, unless she stops me,” he warns me.
And what am I supposed to say? ‘She’s mine. Back off. You can’t take her, because… why?’ Why can’t he have her?
I’m not claiming her. She’ll leave, and this will end, because it has to. I’m not taking her life from her and saddling her here.
I shouldn’t have touched her.
Slowly, I start to nod. “Just act right,” I tell him. “She’s free to make her choices. You act right.”
A smile curls his lips, and he backs away, Kaleb and him disappearing back into the house.
It’s only right, right? I didn’t have any business fucking with her in the first place. I don’t want her to think I don’t want her, but I don’t want her getting attached, either. It’s better to stop it sooner, rather than later.
I kick off my boots and head into the house, grabbing a beer from the fridge as the boys watch TV as I pass by, catching Kaleb’s eyes as I climb the stairs, him holding my gaze a lot longer than he ever does. The nice thing about my oldest is his anger is never verbal. The bad thing is it usually ends up in him disappearing into the mountains for weeks on end. I’ll need to talk to him tomorrow. I don’t like it when he goes in the snow, but he’s always stupid enough to do exactly what he wants anyway.
Neither of my kids have ever wanted to stay with me, and after tonight, I wouldn’t blame them for hating me. They’re not going to marry her or fall in love, either, but I had no right.
I take a swig of my beer, heading to my room and seeing Tiernan’s door closed, no light coming from under the door. She got in bed quick. She didn’t hear our conversation, did she?
I strip off my clothes in the bedroom and pull on some flannel pants, washing up and brushing my teeth.
I should take a shower. I like the smell of her on my body, though.
Rubbing the back of my neck, I try to walk for my bed. I’m tired, and tomorrow will be another long day of custom work, chores, and repairs to get ready for the next storm, whenever it hits.
But I don’t go to my bed. Opening my bedroom door, I head across the hall to hers, and I knock. I just want to make sure she’s alright. If she’s crying, I’ll fucking kill myself.
“Come in,” she calls.
My heart starts pumping harder. I open the door.
The room is dark, lit only by the soft glow of the space heater, and I lean against the doorframe and find her in bed.
She sits up, the blanket falling to her waist as she looks over at me.
I trail my eyes down her little white half shirt, my mouth going suddenly dry at the glimpse of her panties peeking out of the sheet.
“Showered?” I ask.
She nods.
I can’t see her eyes very well, but when she straightens her spine, stretching out her body and drawing my eyes to her bare stomach, I feel my arms ache with the emptiness.
“Hungry?” I fight to keep my tone level.
She shakes her head.
