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That was about to change.
She was his and he was created to be hers.
Chapter 13
Drive-Out
Willa
I didn’t want to open my eyes at first.
I could feel him beside me, and I wondered if he was awake yet. I slowly turned my head to the left and snuck a quick peek.
My, Lord. He was glorious spread out across my bed.
His silky hair streamed over the edge of his pillow and his face was softer in sleep. The lines in his forehead not as pronounced, his mouth soft, and his face tilted toward me like he was watching over me even in sleep.
One hand rested on his flat stomach; the other was thrown over his head. I got up on one elbow to get a better look. His biceps were huge and tattoos that I’d only seen hints of were partially revealed, peeking out from under the blanket.
He wasn’t in bed with me, he was on top of my bed, a blanket from the living room tossed over him. He had no shirt on. I wondered if he was wearing his jeans still. I leaned over and pinched the edge of the blanket, lifting it carefully to see underneath.
“I kept my pants on, curly,” his deeply amused, incredibly gritty morning voice tore me from my fantasies, and I jumped, startled, before falling back on the bed and folding my arms over my face.
I groaned, laughing. “Caught. But I think I may be within my rights to check to see if the man in my bed is naked or not.”
“I’m not in your bed, yet,” he chuckled, “but in the interest of fairness I do concede that my pants are undone. You’d be better served, however, to check to see what you’re wearing. Or, better yet, I could.”
I dropped my arms to grasp the top of my quilt and peeked underneath to find I was in my t-shirt from the day before and my underwear. I remembered pulling my bra off from under my t-shirt and dropping my jeans at the side of my bed before climbing in. I peeked over the bed and sure enough both were on the floor.
“Did I strip down in front of you?”
Some of the details of the night were a bit fuzzy. My head was still fuzzy from the excessive amounts of crying yesterday and the influx of emotions that telling him had stirred to the surface.
“No.”
I was relieved.
“But you did make me check the bathroom twice in the night. Nice legs, curly.”
I groaned and turned on my side to face him. I wasn’t a tease.
“I’m sorry, Viking.”
He shifted to his side as well, his elbow cocked, his head resting on his hand. Even in that semi-upright position he loomed over me, but I felt safe with Barrett. I always had. It’s what he had the potential to make me feel, his potential to turn my peaceful world on its head, that made him unsafe.
“I’m not sorry. It was a privilege to be here for you. I wish I’d been there seventeen years ago to listen to you, to comfort you.”
“I don’t think a fifteen-year-old kid would have been on your twenty-four-year-old radar.” I laughed but he visibly jolted. “What? Why’d you jump?”
“I’m not sure this is the time,” he rumbled.
“Tell me.”
I’d given him my broken soul and he had nursed it. If he had something to unload, I wanted it. I could give that to him. I wanted to give that to him.
“There was a woman in veterinary school that I became involved with, quite seriously, to the point I thought we’d have a future together. We’d been together for a couple of years, still had a couple of years of school to go, and we got pregnant, only she didn’t tell me until months after she had an abortion.”
“You didn’t notice? Wasn’t she upset?”
