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Andrew frowned. “In all the ways, my sweet Jami. Yes, I enjoy being with you, but it was never just that.” He shook her. “Don’t you see? I was the one to set you free. It will all be for nothing unless you choose to be with me.”
“Set me free?” Her throat tightened as the dread she’d felt ever since he’d told her about the fire returned. She’d known there was no way her father had set that fire himself. “You’re not saying what I think, are you? Tell me you didn’t.”
Andrew opened his mouth.
“Hey,” Malcolm said gruffly. Jami was surprised to find him next to her. His hands were balled into fists at his sides. “I’m only going to ask you once to get your hands off her.”
Andrew glared at him, but released her. “I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.” He met her eyes. “But I also can’t lose you. I can’t accept this. Give yourself time. You’re still grieving.”
“I won’t change my mind, Andrew.” Jami’s hand shook on the crutch. “Especially not now.”
He reached for her again, and she flinched, closing her eyes. The touch didn’t come.
“We’ll talk again, my sweet Jami,” she heard him say. “When this man isn’t around.”
She opened her eyes to find him glaring at Malcolm, who’d stepped closer.
Malcolm smiled back. “Oh, I’m always around.”
Andrew turned and walked away.
Jami stared after him. Had he admitted to burning her father alive? Her heartbeat pounded in her chest as her arms continued to shake.
“Jami?” Malcolm asked.
She needed to respond, but it was as if he was calling to her through a tunnel. Her jaw felt fused together, and she couldn’t seem to breathe properly.
“The hell with this,” Malcolm said, lifting her into his arms.
Jami’s crutch fell from her numb hand as her eyes flew to his. “I can walk.”
“And I can carry you,” he countered.
“My crutch,” she protested, even though she still hated the damn thing.
“I’ll go back for it.” He’d opened the passenger door of his truck at some point, even though Jami didn’t recall him doing so. When he placed her inside, she missed the warmth of his hands on her. One of them returned, brushing her hair behind her ear as he cupped her face. “I want you to breathe for me, Jami. Deep breath in.”
She followed his lead. On the third exhale, the dimness at the edges of her vision faded. She couldn’t look away from his kind brown eyes.
“That’s better,” Malcolm murmured. “I’ll call my guys down at the precinct. You’re in no condition to give your statement again.”
Her pending trip to the police station had slipped her mind. She’d agreed to come in again, and Malcolm had told her it was standard procedure. Her hands clutched each other in her lap. What was she supposed to say to them now? “Is that okay?” she asked.
“I’ll talk to them. They don’t think you had any involvement.” His fingers worked through her hair. She’d always thought she hated having it touched, but the gentle motion sent tingles through her scalp. “Why did Raneer grab you?”
“I broke things off with him. Or tried to.” Her gaze dropped to her hands. He hadn’t accepted what she was saying. She stilled as the truth hit her. She’d said ‘no’ to him. Her eyes flew back to Malcolm.
He smiled, brushing back her hair one more time before his hand moved away. “There you are,” he murmured, straightening. “Let’s get you home.”
She watched as he closed the door and climbed the hill again, retrieving her discarded crutch.
Home. Her gaze moved to her father’s grave site as she realized that, in less than a week, Malcolm’s house had already started to feel like a place where she belonged. It was a pleasant lie, one she wasn’t willing to change in that moment.
Chapter 12
MalcolmglancedatJamias he pulled a beer beside her. She laughed as she handed the credit card receipt to Tanya. She’d been laughing a lot more lately.
He was surprised that she’d lived with him more than a month and he hadn’t gotten antsy about having his space back yet. Especially since they were together both at the house and at the tavern. She’d even gone with him to cheer up Celia at her place, where she was already stir-crazy.
