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“Rylan’s not here.”
Dot watched their silent argument with wide eyes, her head swiveling back and forth as though she were observing a tennis match.
He didn’t respond immediately, his gaze steady and calm as he considered her. His hands moved then, the signs slow and deliberate.“I don’t want you to get hurt.”
That took her by surprise. ASL was a language of facial expressions as much as hand motions, and one thing she’d noticed about Pierce was that his expressions were always half-hearted and flat. He did the bare minimum to get his pointacross. But now, there was a glimmer of something more in his eyes, a flicker of emotion that burst through his stoic exterior. His hands formed the words with a gentleness she hadn’t seen before.
It was disconcerting, oddly endearing, and it made her heart flutter in a way that she didn’t quite understand. She reached out tentatively and rested her hand on his forearm. “I know,” she said out loud. “I don’t want you to get hurt either.”
He looked down at her hand as if it were an alien thing touching him. It was a few moments before he lifted his eyes back to hers, the warmth in them sending a thrill through her that she didn’t dare examine too closely.”
”Dot,” Rhiannon called, breaking the moment of connection. “Do you have any paper?”
Dot, blinking in surprise, nodded quickly and hurried off.
Pierce’s gaze stayed on Rhiannon as he slowly pulled his arm away from hers. His face was unreadable as he signed,“I’m talking to Gareth alone.”
With a small sigh of resignation, she nodded. One of the few things her brother had told her about Pierce St. James was that arguing with him was pointless when he’d already made up his mind about something. She stepped aside without another word and watched as he accepted a notepad from Dot.
She wanted to follow him. She wanted to know why Gareth’s existence triggered such a visceral reaction in him. She wanted to know his secrets.
He told Raszta to stay with a hand signal, then he walked away, striding towards Gareth with that soldier-like posture of his—back straight, shoulders square. Every part of him screamed control and calm. Yet, as he disappeared, she couldn’t help but worry for him. He was acting like he was about to face a firing squad instead of a wounded man.
“Come on, kiddo,” Dottie said and placed a comforting hand on her back, guiding her toward the makeshift campsite they’d set up in the middle of the store. “Let the man do his thing. All that pent-up intensity in him? It needs an outlet, and if Gareth is it... well, trust me, better him than the rest of us.”
Rhiannon scoffed at the idea. “Pierce wouldn’t hurt us.”
The older woman only grunted in reply.
”He wouldn’t.”
“Honey, I know his type. Hell, I married his type—twice. They were the best and worst men I ever knew. They’d protect you to their dying breath and then shatter your heart without even realizing it.”
“Pierce isn’t like that.”
“Oh, yes, he is.” Dottie paused, her gaze far away. There was a world of wisdom in her eyes, a layer of hard-earned toughness. “He’s seen things. He’s had to do things that people like you and I can’t even imagine in our worst nightmares. And that… that leaves scars. And not just the ones you can see.”
“He’s not a threat,” Rhiannon said, her lips pursing in frustration.
Dottie gave her a patient smile. “I never said he was, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t dangerous. Especially to you. I see how you look at him.”
“I don’t?—“
Dottie shushed her with a quick wave of her hand. “Take my advice, stay far away from him. Men like him? They don’t intend to, but they often leave a trail of collateral damage behind them. It’s not out of malice or ill intent. It’s just how they are. How they’re built—designed to face the storm, but sometimes they become one.”
Rhiannon flushed at her words and averted her gaze. She didn’t want to admit it, even to herself, but Dottie might be right. There was something about Pierce St. James that drewher in—his stoicism, his self-assuredness, the way he used his hands with such accuracy while communicating... And there was the undeniable attraction she felt for him. She shook away the thought as soon as it surfaced.
Dottie chuckled and patted her on the arm. “No need to get embarrassed, dear. It’s not a crime to admire a handsome man. But do remember that some men are stunning to behold but challenging to hold on to.”
chapter
seven
Pierce waiteduntil he was sure Rhiannon wasn’t paying attention. Then, he walked toward Gareth with the notepad in hand, his mind churning with possibilities. The silence in the gift shop felt thick and oppressive, only broken by the occasional groan of the structure under the weight of the debris. His steps were steady and calculated, but inside, unease churned. He couldn’t let it show.
As he approached Gareth, the man’s eyes flicked up to meet his. They were sharp, more alert than they should’ve been for someone who had just been pulled from a pile of rubble. Gareth sat slumped against the wall, his hand clutching a half-empty bottle of water someone must’ve brought him. He looked harmless enough, but Pierce could see the soldier in him.
This man was not a civilian. He was a predator lying in wait, assessing the situation and readying himself for whatever came next. They locked eyes, and Pierce knew the recognition was mutual.
