“It’s a risk I’m willing to take. Are you?”
He didn’t know what was at stake. But, looking up into his eyes, she realized that maybe she was wrong. James might not know the dirty details about Dmitri and his threats, but he didn’t live a life free of danger. Death could come for them any day. It was still a risk, and a stupid one at that, but she found herself nodding all the same. I can’t say no to this man. I don’t ever want to. “Just tonight.”
“We’ll get this figured out.” He kept a hold of her hand as he led her from the coffee shop to where he’d parked a black car she didn’t recognize, and then held her door while she climbed in.
She typed out a quick text to Liam. With James. I promise I’ll keep my phone on. It dinged almost as soon as she’d pushed send.
Where?
Carrigan hesitated. What if Liam told her brothers? But then she remembered how things had played out before—he wouldn’t betray her. He just wanted to keep her safe. She glanced at James. “Where are you taking me?”
He eyed the phone in her hand. “The beach house.”
York. Blue house on the ocean drive. She set the phone aside. She’d kept her promise—at least one of them. “Okay.”
“Anything I should be worried about?”
“No.” She hoped. She seemed to be doing a lot of hoping these days. But as James reached over and took her hand, she let her worry go. It would still be there tomorrow. God knew she couldn’t escape her problems as easily as she and James could escape Boston’s city limits.
She could feel James’s questions crowding the space between them, but he kept his silence as they drove north. It left her too much opportunity to go over the last forty-eight hours. So much had changed, and yet nothing at all. Saturday James had still been forbidden, even if her family didn’t know about their relationship. She’d been considering marrying Dmitri, though he hadn’t gotten into the heavy-handed tactics yet. And she’d still wanted James more than anything else in the world.
She was just as conflicted now as she had been then, with just as few places to turn for help. Add it all up, and Carrigan couldn’t shake the truth—no matter which way she turned, she was destined for a life of misery and loss.
Chapter Twenty
James parked in almost the exact same spot he had five days ago, and turned the Beemer off. “We’re going to talk about it.” He still didn’t know what the hell was going on to put the bone-deep fear into Carrigan, but he fully planned on finding out. She said no one had touched her, and he believed it. But he also knew far too well how to hurt someone without ever laying a finger on them.
She’d agreed to come to the beach house. It was a start.
He got out and opened her door for her. A car pulled up behind them, a dark sedan with a man in the driver’s seat. She glanced over. “It’s Liam. I promised.”
As much as he didn’t like the idea of O’Malley’s man knowing that this place existed—let alone where it was—he nodded. It was the price of getting her here, and he would gladly pay it. “Come on.” He guided her across the street with a hand on the small of her back. That little touch grounded him. She’s here. We will figure this out. He knew better, but he couldn’t kill the hope in the back of his mind.
After locking the door and closing the shades, he turned to her. “Lovely, I—”
“Not tonight.” She stepped into his arms, and he automatically put them around her. He couldn’t get over how right this was—how right Carrigan was. She made him feel ten feet tall, like he could do whatever it took to make things right—like nothing was impossible.
“I want to know what’s got you so worked up.”
“And I don’t want to talk about it. Please, James.” She looked up, her red lips kissably close. “Please just give me tonight. The only time I really feel safe is when I’m with you.”
The words were a balm to his soul, chasing away the shadows that he thought had taken up permanent residence. It would be easy, so fucking easy, to give her exactly what she wanted and soak up this feeling. But it was a Band-Aid. He’d gone through the same motions enough times to recognize it for what it was. So he framed her face with his hands and kissed her forehead. There had to be some way to balance this. “We don’t have to talk about what spooked you tonight. But we are going to talk.”
Tension worked its way into her body, and he resented its presence. She twisted the hem of his shirt between nervous fingers. “Talk about what?”
“Whatever you want.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he fought against the instinctive urge to take them back. There were things he’d done—things he’d seen—that he never wanted to drag out of the darkness where he’d put them. But he would for Carrigan.