“He wasn’t after me.” She drew her arms tight around her waist. She’d been so sure. Now, it felt as if the one piece of the nightmare that she’d clung to had been torn away. Her memory felt faulty, and her judgment questionable. How could she have been so wrong?
“No. He wasn’t,” he said. “And you’re safe now.”
But she wasn’t. Couldn’t he see that? If she couldn’t trust in her own judgment? Her memory of her attacker’s words?
“You can go up to the Salem police station and talk to them in the morning,” he added.
She’d dreamed about this. Not when she drifted off to sleep, but in the moments when she’d stared out into her brightly lit home, listening for suspect sounds. She’d envisioned how it would feel to know that man she feared was behind bars. But where was the relief?
“Are you sure?” she asked slowly. “I don’t want to know what your dad thinks, or the Salem police believe. Do you think they have the man who attacked me?”
“I read what the Salem police chief sent over. So, yeah, I think it is a strong possibility. And once you read through it . . . I think you’ll finally be able to sleep at night.”
“I slept fine last night.”
“Because I was on your couch,” he said.
And I don’t want you to abandon your post.
She nodded slowly. “I thought if I knew who’d attacked me, I would feel . . .”
“Liberated?” He walked around the bar, lifted the service entrance, and stepped into her domain. “Like your life can finally return to normal?”
“Yes.”
He pulled her into his arms. “Sounds like someone forgot to program your on-off switch.”
Resting her chin against his chest, she looked up at him. “Is that your way of saying I should give it time?”
“Everything won’t go back to the way it was overnight,” he said.
“Will you stay?” she asked, promising herself this was the last time she’d say those words to him. She wouldn’t beg him to come back. And she wouldn’t wait for him. Not this time. But she might crumble if he left her now. Every little sound would leave her terrified. And how could she comfort herself, allow logic to explain away the supposedly spooky sounds as harmless—leaves rustling in the trees—when she’d been wrong before?
He nodded. “For as long as you need me.”
She rose up on her tiptoes and her heels lifted out of her sensible slip-on shoes. She pressed her lips to his cheek. One soft touch, before she drew back. “That could be a long, long time.”
He brushed her hair back from her face. “You won’t need me to watch over you forever,” he said.
How can you know that?
“You’re going to heal,” he continued. “This is only the beginning. Once you see the file and talk to the police, the truth will sink in. Trust me.”
She nodded. Maybe he was right. “But I need you to stay until then.”
“I will. I promise I will stay on your couch for as long as you need me.”
And then he would slip away again. Without a sense of purpose to keep him here, he’d return to Georgia. Taking the pleasure he’d delivered on her coffee table with him . . .
But not before she returned the favor. Pushing aside her fear and her questions about her own judgment, she let her fingers drift lower, down over his T-shirt.
“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way,” she said as her hands moved between them, searching for his waistline, her fingers eager to release the button on his shorts. She found her target and undid the closure. Hooking her thumbs into his underwear, she dragged his clothes down to the floor
“But,” she began as the rubber mat dug into her knees. Thankfully, she’d selected a pair of capri-length legging in her dash to get dressed. Because she planned to stay here awhile. He’d changed his facial hair, added a few scars, but the hard, long length ready and waiting for her remained the same.
“You’re going to ask me to trust you too?” he said as his hand ran through her hair.
She pressed her lips to the tip. She felt the moisture beaded there.
And the door leading to the back room swung open.
Her nails crawled at his thighs. But Dominic had already jumped into action, pulling up his shorts. He didn’t bother to secure the fly as he hauled her off the floor and held her close against him.
“Hey, guys,” Josh Summers called. “Drop something back there?”
“You could say that,” Dominic said, still holding Lily close, as if concerned her fears had taken flight. But the nervous questions—who was there? Why was he here?—had slipped away. Just Josh and his bad timing.