“Whoa. No one is selling my car or towing it to a junkyard. I need it.”
Logan is leaning against the cupboard, and Creighton is standing near the wall. Both men are looking at me with nearly identical expressions.
“You can’t drive that piece of shit,” Logan says.
“Says who?” I ask.
“Says me,” Creighton replies.
“Not your call.” My tone is adamant.
Logan pushes off the cupboard. “This sounds like a domestic issue. I’ll let you two sort it out.” He touches the brim of his baseball cap. “Call me when you decide.”
I open my mouth to tell him I’ve already decided, but Creighton moves to stand beside me and reaches down to thread his fingers through mine. When he squeezes lightly, the move silences me.
“Thanks, Brantley. We’ll be in touch.”
Logan crosses to the door, pulls it open, and gives us one last glance. He’s smirking, and I’m pretty sure he’s seeing something I’m not.
“See you around, Karas.”
When the door shuts behind Logan, I’m left in the kitchen with piles of Piggly Wiggly bags and my husband’s hand wrapped around mine.
Creighton releases his hold on me slowly, but his eyes never leave mine. He’s daring me to ask him the question that’s burning on my tongue. So I do.
“You’re staying?”
He doesn’t answer right away, just continues to hold my gaze until the urge to fidget has me shifting where I stand.
“We’re going to get one thing straight.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
“This whole disappearing act bullshit? It’s not so much fun to be on the other end, is it?”
I knew there would be consequences for my actions. I break his stare¸ looking down at my feet. “No. It’s not.”
He drops my hand and raises it to my jaw. Tilting my chin up, he forces me to meet his eyes. “No, it’s fucking not, Holly. And I’m done with it. No more running. This isn’t a game.”
My stomach flops wildly, and I know he’s right. “Okay. No more running.”
His grip on my chin tightens. “You have a problem, you feel the need to run, you come to me and we’ll figure it out.”
I nod, but instantly know he’ll want the words. “Okay. I . . . I’ll come to you. I won’t run. I swear.”
“Good girl.” His touch turns soft, his thumb smoothing across my cheek.
“So you’re staying?” I ask again, needing to hear those words from him.
“Yes, I’m staying.”
“You’re sure?”
He nods again, a smile tugging away the serious expression he had only moments ago. “Yes. Because you’re here.”
“As simple as that?”
“Not everything has to be complicated, Holly. We don’t have to be complicated.”
Creighton releases his hold on me, but his eyes never leave mine. I’m processing what just passed between us. I open my mouth to say something, but words desert me completely. Instead I reach into a bag on the table and start removing the contents. I freeze when I pull out a box of Lucky Charms.
Staring at the brightly colored cereal box, I mumble, “You bought Lucky Charms?”
“I thought you liked them. You mentioned them in your first single.”
This time my stomach flops again, but it’s a completely new emotion fueling it. My reference to the cereal was one fleeting mention in the second verse. Most people probably wouldn’t really notice.
“You actually listened to the lyrics of my first single?”
Creighton straightens. “Holly, I’ve seen you perform live almost a dozen times. I know every word of every song at this point.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.” He turns, and instinctively I back up until my spine connects with the fridge.
He doesn’t touch me, just presses a palm to the fridge on either side of my head.
“Why does that surprise you? It shouldn’t.”
“I just figured that . . .”
“What?”
“That you watch me but don’t really pay attention. You’ve got more important things to think about.”
He shakes his head. “You don’t get it, Holly, and I’m not going anywhere until you do.”
“Get what?”
“That you’re the most important thing in my life now.”
The box slips from my nerveless fingers and lands on the floor.
He smiles, but it’s more predatory than anything else. “See? You don’t believe me. But you will.”
My brain is trying to work. Trying—and failing.
Lifting a hand to my chin, Creighton tilts it up before lowering his mouth nearly to my lips. My breasts rise and fall, pressing against his chest, and my heart hammers against my ribs.