The Road to Rose Bend, Naima Simone [jenna bush book club .TXT] 📗

to soothe the anger—the awful hurt—that darkened her eyes, he longed to crash against her like those doomed sailors, and drown in her.

“Did you give me that choice last night?” she asked, the demand low but throbbing with the pain he’d inflicted.

His gut twisted.

“No, baby girl. I didn’t,” he murmured.

“I’m not an idiot, and I’m not insensitive,” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken. Like a valve had popped under extreme pressure, she unloaded on him, holding nothing back. “I get why yesterday would’ve been rough for you. I even get why you would’ve needed time alone to cope with unexpected feelings that might’ve overwhelmed you. I would’ve told you all of that if you had. Just. Talked to. Me.” She shook her head. “But you didn’t, Cole. Instead, you ran out of here like a cornered animal. And I was your jailer. Like I had forced you to be here. To be with me.” Her voice trembled, then cracked and so did his resolve not to touch her until they talked. His heart lodged in his throat as he moved toward her, but she slammed up a hand. “No. Don’t touch me. You asked me to marry you. You asked me to move in here. You stood up there in front of this whole town and pledged yourself to me. I didn’t force you. I didn’t guilt you. All I did was trust you.”

“Sydney.” His fingers curled and uncurled at his side. Fuck, he needed to touch her. To hold her. To try and take away the pain he’d caused.

“You said you wanted me, but last night you couldn’t even look at me. Like I disgusted you...disappointed you,” she whispered. “I’m so tired, Cole. So tired of seeing that look on the faces of people I care about. I can’t do it anymore. I won’t.” She shook her head again, more vehemently, eyes squeezing shut. “I won’t.”

“Sydney, please,” he pleaded. “Please, let me touch you.” He didn’t wait for her answer. He couldn’t remain still any longer. Not when she was so tormented. As a man, he couldn’t do it. “Let me hold you.”

He crossed the last few feet separating them and cupped her face, tilting her head back. But she didn’t open her eyes, didn’t look at him. And he needed that, too. A part of him acknowledged how he seemed to be making this about his needs, his wants. But he found when it came to her, he was a selfish bastard. He craved her voice, her scent, her company and now, her kiss. Her body. The blessed oblivion they promised him.

Jesus, did he crave that.

And only she could give it to him.

“I’m sorry.” He swept his thumbs across her cheekbones then pressed his lips over the left one. “I’m so sorry, baby girl,” he repeated against her skin.

“You hurt me.” Her hands slid up between them, settled against his chest. But instead of shoving him away, her fingers fisted in his T-shirt, tugging it down. As if it, and he, were the only things keeping her on her feet.

“I know I did.” He caressed the tender skin just below her eyes. “Look at me. Please.” Relief and a deep, rumbling satisfaction barreled through him when she complied and revealed those beautiful eyes to him. “I know I hurt you,” he reiterated. “But my worst sin is walking out that door and leaving you here thinking I regretted you...that I didn’t want you. Because, baby girl, nothing could be further from the truth. Last night was about me, not you. And I should’ve explained that before abandoning you on our wedding night. I owed you that, not just as my new wife, but as my friend.” He lowered his head, brushed his lips across the corner of her mouth. “As the man who last kissed you, brought this gorgeous body pleasure.” He gave the other corner a kiss. “I’m so sorry, Sydney. Let me show you how much I still want you.”

How much I still need you.

But he didn’t utter those damning words. They sounded too close to something more than lust.

Because this could be nothing more than that.

He was good as long as he didn’t allow his emotions to become involved in this...arrangement. As long as he didn’t cross that line, he wouldn’t collapse under the fear that haunted him. Because if he did, and he lost her like he’d lost Tonia, there wouldn’t be a coming back from that dark abyss for him. He’d managed it once, by the grace of God. But he suspected even God’s grace had limits. Or his heart did. He wouldn’t make it. The pain would destroy his mind, and he couldn’t suffer that agony again. He was fucking terrified of it, and he couldn’t go through it again.

He wouldn’t.

So, yes, he’d married Sydney. He’d grant her and her child security. But he couldn’t love her. Or the baby whose heartbeat he could still hear.

If he remembered that one rule, then they would all be safe, content. Maybe even happy.

With that goal firmly entrenched in his mind, he grazed her chin with the edge of his teeth. Soothed it with a whisper of a kiss.

“Will you, baby girl?” he asked, lifting his gaze to hers. “Let me take the hurt away. For both of us.”

Her nod was imperceptible, but he caught it. The relief screamed almost as loud as the lust. The groan barely breached his throat before he took her mouth. And the now familiar taste of her swept over his tongue, flooded his senses. Another hungry sound escaped him, as he feasted on her like a long-starved man. He shifted a hand, thrusting his fingers through the curls that drove him wild—the curls that had caressed his chest, his abdomen, his thighs in his dirtiest dreams. He fisted them as he did in those dreams, tugging her head back so he could have deeper access. And he lowered the other hand to her jaw, pressing his thumb just