Page 64 of For Him

One hand slid to the nape of my neck, and he threaded his fingers into my hair, slightly tilting my head back before diving in deeper and more passionately.

Stronger, harder, like a craving that neither of us could satisfy. I tugged against his coat, pulling him closer into my figure as his hand slid down from my cheek, and he shoved his tongue into my mouth. His thumb brushed across my neck and then collarbone, sending shivers running down my spine as my body began to heat up.

It was perfect.

Chapter 27

We broke apart panting and I was already wanting more. More from this man that had waited entirely too long to kiss me for the first time. But there were things to still settle and matters to still handle, which I was reminded of as his hand slipped down my side and brushed against the bullet wound.

I winced, and Weston’s hungry gaze narrowed, shifting into concern. “You’re hurt,” he growled and moved me away enough that he could see the slice in my coat.

“It just grazed me,” I said, slipping my arms through the sleeves and shrugging off the warm fabric. Laying it upon the messy counter behind me, I lifted my shirt enough to inspect the wound. “Nothing a few stitches won’t fix.”

He chuckled, and I raised my gaze to meet his handsomely imperfect face. “Don’t ask me to sew it up.” He winked, causing me to roll my eyes.

“You’re not even a doctor of animals, so of course not,” I sarcastically replied, and he placed a palm over his heart as I pulled the hem back down.

“Ouch.” He grinned that crooked grin, and I tilted my head. Lifting my hand without hesitation, I brushed my fingers across his scar, and he leaned into the touch. Completely unabashed to be enjoying the contact.

“Tell me the story,” I whispered as he closed his eyes.

“Took you long enough to ask,” he muttered, relief coating his figure. “Cassidy and I were out riding four-wheelers late September. Being young and dumb, going as fast as we could and hitting some sick jumps. You know, like boys do.”

Weston opened his beautiful blue eyes and studied my green ones. In one fell swoop, he gently lifted me up and sat me down on the counter, pushing aside my coat. Weston raised my shirt to expose the wound that was dripping some blood and then glanced around him. I pointed to my right at some drawers where gauze and tape were.

He headed that way and continued speaking. “Cassidy took this massive jump and completely wiped out. His wheeler went one way, he went the other. Lucky he went the way he did instead of with that thing cause it smashed against a couple trees and then tumbled down a cliffside.” Weston pulled out the white gauze patches and some tape before walking back my way.

“I’d bet ya money that thing is still there.” He chuckled and pulled open the first pad and dumped some alcohol on it to clean up the wound first. “This will hurt, sorry darling.”

I gritted my teeth and braced against the edge of the counter as the searing burn shot through me upon contact. Leaning my forehead against his chest, I bit back a scream. “Just a second more,” he whispered and placed a kiss against my hair.

Closing my eyes, I waited for the painful sensation to leave as Weston continued his story. “Anyway, suddenly out of the trees came this massive bull moose. I have hunted some large moose before, but this guy had antlers like you’d never believe. It was during peak rutting season too, and unbeknownst to us, we’d driven right into his territory. The moose was charging Cassidy who was unconscious on the ground.”

He placed a fresh gauze pad over the wound and began taping it down. I knew what Weston had done without needing to hear it. But I didn’t interrupt him as he sighed and his eyes glazed over. “I did the only thing I could think of and gunned my four-wheeler. I rammed into that moose as fast as I could, hitting near his shoulder to keep him from killing my brother. Honestly though, I don’t know how it didn’t kill me instead.”

Weston stepped away from me and slowly began unzipping his coat. “Obviously you can see where part of his antler ripped through my face.” He traced the scar upon his cheek as his vest fell to the floor, leaving nothing but his button up. His fingers began working the pearl snaps. “I shattered my femur and pelvis, broke my collarbone plus several ribs on the left side of my body.”

Weston finished unbuttoning his shirt and let it fall from his body. Although I’d seen a glimpse of his chest when he’d saved me from the frozen ice, I hadn’t looked hard enough or been coherent enough to see anything else.

There was a massive scar, four of them running in crooked lines starting underneath his pec and sliding in a similar angle to the one upon his face towards his side. That’s what I’d caught a glimpse of the night he’d forgotten his clothes.

“It punctured my lung and barely missed my heart,” he finished as I slid myself down from the counter. I studied the raised skin, a haunting memory of death that he narrowly evaded. Without thinking, I raised my hand and gently brushed my fingertips across the jagged edges. Starting beneath his pec and sliding down each line that should’ve taken him from this world. Each remaining signifier of an alteration in the course he’d previously been on.

His body shuddered beneath my touch as I stepped closer to him again and let my hand fall from his skin. “What happened to the moose?” I asked, studying the rivets upon his torso.

“My parents say he was killed upon impact. But honestly, they probably had to go put him out of his misery a different way. I never pressed for anything more, and I don’t think I want to know.”

“So you protecting your little brother and nearly dying was the excuse your lowlife ex needed to cheat. I could say a few choice words about her,” I grumbled, resisting the urge to allow my hand to wander across more of his torso. It was shameful I knew it, but I couldn’t help staring at his hardened body of steel.

Weston chuckled and shoved his hands in his pockets. “So. Cassidy told you then. I wondered why you never asked nor seemed to believe all the crazy rumors I know go around.”

I leaned back against the counter while he bent down and slowly began working the buttons on his shirt. The muscles in his forearms danced as each finger snapped them together.

“But why do you still stay away?” I asked as he shrugged his jacket on. Weston adjusted his felt hat then ran a hand across the back of his neck.

“Habit.”

I clicked my tongue and then gently stepped into his body, wrapping my arms around his waist. He was my home.

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