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I listen as she continues to blot my lip, her eyes now focused on her task again.
“I’m sorry.”
Her lips twist into a tight line and she exhales through her nose.
“It’s my fault. Brett was out looking for me that day. Me and Gareth had a fight and I stormed off. I just went for a walk, and I called Brett in a mess telling him how stupid I felt. He came out to look for me. That’s why he was there. That’s why he got hit.”
“That wasn’t—”
“My fault?” She shakes her head, keeping her eyes down. “That’s what everyone keeps telling me. But I… and the thing with Gareth… I just felt so deceived. So…so stupid.Gareth told me he was offered this new job in Washington. It was really good for him. More money, more responsibility. He wanted to take it. I was so happy. I thought he meant both of us. I thought he wanted me to go with him. I even thought he was about to propose, you know? Make it a totally new chapter for us. But he didn’t. Instead, he told me he was going alone.”
“He was a selfish prick, Rose,” I say with conviction because it’s the truth. And also, he was a fucking fool. I mean, look at her. Listen to her. It doesn’t take a genius to see how wonderful Rose Jacobs is. She’s smart, witty, gentle, and beautiful. Far too good for a prick named Gareth.
“You already told me that. And I agree.” She smiles and bites her bottom lip.
“I can tell you a third time if it keeps you smiling.”
She freezes and looks me in the eyes as something passes between us. Something unspoken, but significant. Something I should not be encouraging. And something I definitely shouldn’t be so fucking happy about. There’s even a warmth spreading in my chest.
She tucks her hair behind one ear and continues cleaning me up, her eyes darting to mine and away again.
“Do you think I’m uptight?” she whispers.
I pull my brows together, ignoring the tenderness in my cheek as I frown.
“Why are you asking me that?”
“It’s something Gareth said.”
I grit my teeth.Fucking Gareth.The bastard deserves to have his ass handed to him.
“What did he say?” I growl, not even trying to hide my murderous tone.
“He…” Rose averts her eyes from my face again. “You have blood on your shirt.” She points to the dried red spots on the front of it. I know it isn’t mine. Typical that I wore a white shirt today. If Marcus kept his asshole friends in line, then I wouldn’t have needed to ruin it.
I rip it open and pull my arms out, tossing it aside onto the floor.
“What did he say?” I ask again, but Rose isn’t listening. Her lips have parted as she studies my skin, sweeping her eyes over it, taking her time as she gazes at my tattoos. I have a lot. It’s kind of an obsession. My entire chest, back, arms and neck are covered. And I have them running around one thigh as well. Most people think they’re too much.
“They’re stunning.” Rose gazes at the compass on my chest, set to west for the sunset. She drops the cloth onto the sofa and looks at me.
I nod, answering the silent question in her eyes.
She reaches out, and with a featherlight touch, traces her fingertips around the circumference of the compass, before following a twisting branch from it, covered in leaves that snake down my side. My muscles tense and spark with heat and energy from her touch. But she’s too lost in her own world as she explores me to notice.
I suck in a breath and take the ice pack away from my cheek, dropping it onto the cushion next to me. I place both hands on Rose’s rib cage and wrap them around her gently, sliding down her body until my thumbs rest over her hip bones. They look so wrong there, inflamed, bloodied knuckles against the pure white cotton of her t-shirt. And I’m kidding myself if I think I should allow myself to indulge even for a second, in the complete, intoxicating rush that having my hands on her gives me. I held her in the cottage. But that was different. She was upset. It was instinct.
This time, it’s pure selfish indulgence.
I should move them. I should.
I curl my hands and squeeze, holding her tighter.
She continues stroking my skin, small murmurs of awe and delight escaping her lips as she discovers something else.
“Do you have them on your back as well?”
“I do.” I clear my throat, unable to take my eyes from hers. I make no attempt to move forward for her to see, but she’s content to continue her exploration of my front, her comfortableness growing as she adds her other hand and allows both to roam all over my bare skin.
