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His smell, his warmth...they got to me. I lifted my gaze to his hair; the flyaway dark locks matched the color of my favorite trees’ trunks. I wanted to touch each strand, run my fingers through them, then bring them to my face and test how they felt against my cheek.
“Just who’re we looking for out here?” a third person asked, sounding like Tad, Garrett’s best friend. He was even closer to us than either of my brothers had been.
I tensed. If we stayed here, we’d be spotted within seconds. And I wasn’t ready to be discovered just yet, not with the Parker boy so close to me.
Acting quickly, he crouched behind our tree, bringing me down onto my haunches with him. He didn’t even seem to realize I no longer struggled as he kept his hand loosely over my mouth. His touch felt more protective than it did ominous, as if he were trying to shield me from trouble instead of imprison me into it.
“The hell if I know,” Garrett called back. “But I walked into my room to find some fucker with a dirty diaper, smearing baby shit on my bed. And when I find him, he’s dead.”
This time, the Parker boy sank closer as if seeking shelter from me. I almost touched him in reassurance. But I stopped myself, because that probably wasn’t what I was supposed to do for the enemy.
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“I bet it was one of them Parkers,” Tad answered. “Still trying to claim their newest brat was yours?”
Garrett let out a derisive snort. “If you ask me, it was probably that filthy bastard Bruce Parker himself who knocked up his own girl.”
The Parker boy’s muscles coiled, and the vibration of his growl deep in his throat echoed through my bones. His eyes gleamed hard with vengeance as he clenched his teeth and curled his top lip into a snarl.
I grabbed his wrist to stop him from acting. And at my touch, his surprised gaze slashed to me. I shook my head, begging him with my eyes not to react. I’d seen Garrett mad before. From the sound of his voice, he was the kind of mad you didn’t want to mess with. He tortured cats and small animals for the pure pleasure of it.
Thinking about the things he did out of anger made me shiver with horror and worry for this beautiful boy cowering against me.
After staring at me for an overly long second, the boy blinked and seemed to relax under my beseeching gaze. Slowly, his hand fell from my lips. We continued to stare at each other as the search party combed past us, never discovering our hiding spot. Minutes drifted by and still, neither of us moved. Finally, he glanced away as if to ensure our safety. But his gaze tracked right back to me.
“You’re not screaming,” he said, seemingly perplexed by the notion.
Oh, crap. I was supposed to scream now, wasn’t I?
With a small clearing of my throat, I lifted my chin and straightened my back. “Well...you’re not running away.”
His gaze darted around my face, confusion and maybe a little awe in his eyes. I think he realized then, just as I did, that maybe we weren’t complete enemies after all.
He straightened to his feet and backed a step away, seeming almost leery of me. When he turned to leave, I panicked, not ready for him to go.
“Hey.” I leapt up after him, only to cause my vision to blur and a dull ache to ricochet through my goose egg.
He paused. A second passed, then two. Finally, he glanced back. “What?”
“Did you really do that to my brother’s bed?”
A grin lit his face, a grin that had my stomach flipping over and my heart skipping madly. A slight nod later, he answered, “And I’m going to keep doing it every time I have to change one of his daughter’s dirty diapers.”
I exhaled a breath I’d been holding, a little impressed he’d had the nerve to do something so bold against Garrett, against anyone in my family, and even warmer in the belly that he felt so protective of his sister. I wondered if either of my brothers would seek that kind of justice for me if I’d landed in the same situation. But what I said was, “I can’t believe you broke into my house.”
“I didn’t steal anything.” He took a step toward me, then another.
I didn’t move away, but I did hold my breath. A toxic mixture of fear and excitement raced through me.
Slowly, he lifted his hand. When I still refused to back away from him, he paused with his fingers lifted halfway between us. Then he gave in to whatever had been holding him back and reached out to pluck a broken twig from my hair.
With a sharp breath, I glanced from the twig to his face. Then I shook my head. “You still vandalized my brother’s room. That’s not right.”
His eyes narrowed. “It’s a lot less wrong than what he did to my sister.”
“I don’t...” When he lifted his eyebrows, waiting for me to continue, I took a quick breath. “I mean, I don’t think Garrett...you know...I don’t think he’s the father.”
With a sniff of dismissal, the boy glanced away. “Of course you’d say that.”
