Stirring Attraction(48)

And let him know that she did too, because he wasn’t the only coward in the room. She’d been burying her head in the sand when it came to facing the awful truth of her situation.

“If I need you, or a police officer, or anyone, watching over me, checking behind every door in my home before I can enter a room, I’ll never feel safe again,” she said, her voice gaining strength with each word. “I can’t wait for someone to show up and hand me back my sense of security. I need to find it on my own.”

DOMINIC HAD BEEN shot three times, but he had still wanted to climb out of his hospital bed and fight the minute he woke up. It had taken him a long time to accept defeat. But right now, he recognized failure. He’d had it all wrong from the beginning. He should have tried to be her boyfriend, not her protector.

But hell, even then he probably would have failed.

“You’re right,” he said. “I’ll go.”

Because if he stayed . . .

He could make her feel secure, he could work to win her trust back, and hell, he might even be able to give her the family she craved one day. But he would never be able to witness Lily’s fear or see her in pain and not do whatever he could to keep her safe.

He loved her too damn much.

And he loved her because she was willing to push him out of her life and find her own way forward. He loved her because she took what life handed her and faced it head-­on. When her mother was sick, and later when she was dying, Lily had stayed by her. She could have left her mom, married him, and lived with him in Georgia. But Lily never turned away when life dealt her a rough blow. He might have gone to war, but she was right. Compared to her, he was a coward, hiding for all those months in his Georgia apartment.

“I’ll go and I won’t camp out in front of your house.” He tried for a smile, but it felt a helluva lot more like a grimace. “You have your floodlights now. Plus, I managed to install that camera on your front porch.”

“Thank you,” she said. “That will help.”

He walked toward her and she stepped aside, allowing space for him to slip past. He paused. “I’ll take the file back and let my dad know that we jumped to the wrong conclusion.”

She handed over the manila folder. “He’ll keep the case open?”

“Yes. And, Lil, you have to promise that you’ll call him or call the station if someone threatens you. If you’re right, and he’s out there . . .”

She nodded. “I will.”

He reached out and ran his good hand over her cheek. “I’ll see you around.”

“You’re not going back to Georgia?”

“No.” He made the decision in a split second. And not because she needed him here. This was his home. He couldn’t run from that fact any longer. He still didn’t have a clue what the future held, but he’d face that sad fact here.

“There’s nothing for me in Georgia,” he continued. “It’s time to call it quits on my extended pity party.” He withdrew his hand from her face. “When does school start again?”

“Staff returns in two weeks. I’ll have some time to set up my classroom before the kids arrive.”

He held back the words “you’ll be OK by then.” He couldn’t know for sure and he was done lying to her—­or telling half-­truths. It didn’t matter if they ran into each other in the grocery store and she asked how he was doing. He wouldn’t lie. If he were heartsick over her new boyfriend, he’d damn well tell her.

“Take care, Lily.”

He turned and walked out of the kitchen. He headed straight for his blue rental, his limbs moving on autopilot while his heart begged and pleaded with him to turn the fuck around. He ignored that pesky organ. The damn thing had survived two rounds to the chest. It would live through this latest heartbreak.

He turned on the car, and at ten in the morning, drove to the one bar in Forever that he knew would let him in. And Noah damn well better serve him.

Ignoring the Closed sign, he pounded on the door. Five harsh knocks and his fist met with air as the door swung open. His best friend, the high school quarterback Dominic had busted his ass to protect on the field, stared back at him.

“Mistaking this place for a coffee house now?” Noah asked.

“I know you have a pot made. I can smell it from here.” Dominic pushed past him and walked into the empty bar. He claimed one of the barstools. “But right now I need to chase it with a shot of whiskey.”

Noah closed the door and walked around behind the bar. He poured the coffee. Then grabbed a bottle from the top shelf. It looked fancy. But hell if Dominic cared right now. He wanted it to burn going down and knock some sense into him.