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Chapter 21
Atlas
The early morning rays of the sun peeked in through the curtains Atlas had left open. His eyes fluttered open. His arm ached from being in the same position all night, but waking up to the warm body beside him was worth it.
He studied Jasmine as she slept. Her dark tendrils of hair spilled over the pillow. Her long, dark eyelashes fanned over her lightly freckled cheeks. Her mouth was open at the edge, drool leaking on his arm. He grinned. Seeing her like this, so vulnerable, was adorable. She was breathtaking from afar, but up close she was like a dream. His chest squeezed. Since when did he have a woman in his bed who actually stayed the night? It had been years since . . . Veronica.
He dipped his head, breathing Jasmine in. He was drunk on her closeness, intoxicated by her scent. His cock was rock hard, begging for release. But that would have to wait. He’d endure torture if it meant he got to keep this woman in his arms a little longer.
What did she mean last night about him hating her because of Zoey? Did she think he was that shallow of a man to think less of her because she’d had one bad night? As far as he knew, Zoey was safe at her family’s. She hadn’t been reckless. Why did it bother her so much what he thought of her anyway?
After the little he’d learned about her, every protective instinct inside him made him want to keep her close. He yearned to hold on to her and not let go, be the one to keep her safe. He wanted this woman, but he needed to take care of her. She’d obviously seen so much hurt in her life. He wouldn’t be the asshole to add to that. Despite what she seemed to think of herself, Jasmine was a fucking warrior. She lived life according to her own rules, and he admired the shit out of her. But she seemed to have blinders on when it came to seeing what a kick-ass woman she was.
Jasmine stirred, covering her eyes with her arm and groaning. She probably had one hell of a hangover.
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty.”
She jolted up. Wincing, she held her head. “Oh my God. Did we?” She motioned her finger back and forth between them.
“No. We did not. I promise it’d be more memorable,” he teased.
She sighed with what looked like relief. “I’m so sorry. I’m a terrible innkeeper, sleeping with—or next to—my guest. I don’t usually get sloppy drunk like that. Not since . . . well, before Zoey.”
“What about with Turner?” Now was as good a time as any to find out exactly what was between them.
Jasmine frowned. “Turner?”
“You seemed mighty close when he stopped by yesterday.”
“He’s my best friend from high school,” she said, her eyebrow quirking up.
“Did you and him ever . . .”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but no. He was one of the few who never tried.” She rubbed her temples.
“Could have fooled me,” he grumbled.
“Are you jealous?” she asked, amusement sparking in her green eyes.
He pulled the back of her head forward as he kissed her. Jasmine’s lips locked together, but she melted softly against him.
“I have morning breath and it feels like I swallowed sand.” She blushed.
“That would be from the moonshine I’m guessing.” He got out of bed and grabbed a bottle of water from the tiny fridge before handing it to her. She unscrewed the cap and took a sip while he dug out a few painkillers from his bag.
“Thank you.” She stood, tucking her hair behind her ear. She glanced at the clock. “I should get going. I’m sorry to intrude.”
He cupped her face, forcing her to meet his eyes. “I’m glad you came to me. I’m gonna take a shower and then I’ll be down to make you a hangover cure for breakfast.”
Her brows creased together like she was trying to figure him out. This woman wasn’t used to being taken care of, and it made him want to be the one to take up the job all the more. He kissed her again before opening the door for her. She hurried over to her room, giving him a nod before closing herself inside.
Walking into the bathroom, he took a look at himself in the mirror. The stupid grin on his face was new. He turned the shower on and stripped naked before climbing in.
* * *
Two hours later, he’d fed Jasmine, making enough for the couple of other guests sharing the inn. She’d left to pick up Zoey, and he took the opportunity to go for a jog down the coast. It was a lot harder to run in sand than on his treadmill in his home gym. His muscles ached as he sped up into a sprint.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
