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“No thanks needed, Piglet. Just speaking the truth.”
* * *
I decide, sometime after we kiss, and Barrett strokes my back and arms and shoulders, and I lace one leg through both of his and he drifts off to sleep, that Barrett is my angel.
Where he came from— What he did before now— Doesn’t matter. It will never, ever matter to me.
I love him. I love him, and he’s mine, and I’ll do anything for him. Be it rational or stupid, sensible or foolish…
I would fight for him. I think I’d help him hide a body.
As I lie beside with him, I feel stronger. Healthier. I feel like a superhero, my wounds healing just from being pressed against him, being near his magic. Just from breathing his soft breath and feeling his warm skin, I’m getting better.
This man is the other half of my heart. I didn’t even know that I was missing it—but now I’ve found it. I feel like it’s beating for the first time ever.
SEVEN
Gwenna
I could get up while he sleeps, but I stay beside him. His big body is warm and comforting against mine and I relish the smell of him. I like to listen to his breathing. When he’s sleeping, I feel like his protector. The one time his brow rumples, I kiss his cheek, and he tightens his grip on me.
Holding him like this is pure joy, a sensation stronger than I’ve ever felt.
My mind swims with images of Kellan and Cleo. The sly, sweet way he looked sideways at her and took her hand when she said the bit about wanting to marry Barrett and I off to each other. I think about her reaching for his hand in the hallway of the studio. I think of Barrett reaching for my hand in the car. Mutual affection. Even as I feel Barrett’s heart beat against mine, it’s hard to believe this is real. After Elvie… I blink against the blurriness in my eyes.
I was a model, and even then I wasn’t enough for Elvie. How is it that I’m enough for Barrett—the me that I am now?
Is it because he’s desperate? My chest aches at the thought, but I can’t deny how lost he was… how lonely. I know him more now, think I can see him clearly now. His head thrown back as he laughs at me. His radiant grin as he pulls me against him on the couch. The notch between his eyebrows as he watches football, one fist drawn up in support of his team’s efforts. But because I watch, I also see the way he’ll be standing somewhere, sometimes, and his face will bleach out. I notice when he reaches out and touches his fingertips to the nearest piece of furniture. The dizzy-looking blinks when he thinks I’m not watching. And of course, I know his haunting dreams. Who could blame him for latching onto the first person he finds?
I try to tell myself we like the same TV shows. We have amazing sex. We like cooking, the woods, the bears, and motorcycles. Martial arts.
More so than that, I feel it. I feel this between us, and it’s good. I know it’s good.
But…God. He’s spent ten years in war zones. What if, after being home a while, he wakes up one day and feels differently? What if his needs change? That’s part of what went wrong with Elvie. As his ego grew, he needed a girlfriend who could double as a fangirl. I was never that.
I hear Bear’s hoarse “mmm” about the time I feel his finger stroke along my eyebrow. “Gwen?”
His voice is dry. His lids are heavy. “You okay?”
He’s so, so handsome; I can’t help the smile I give in answer.
“I’m okay.” I kiss his cheek. “You woke up fast.”
He gives me a crooked smile. “Missed you.”
His big, rough hands smooth down my belly, stroking my waist, as we kiss until I have to pull away to breathe, and then his hand strokes down toward my pussy.
“So perfect,” he rasps as he slides a finger in.
I clench around it.
“Fucking God…” He finds my breast and starts to suckle at it.
“Someone woke up horny.” I giggle.
“The way you smell…” He inhales deeply, and I wrap an arm around his head.
“My Bear…”
