Page 90 of Lucky Haven

“I’m not worth it,” I grind out.

“I won’t argue about this with you.” She lifts her chin. “It’s late. We should sleep.”

“I don’t want to argue, either.” I frown.

She leans in and kisses me lightly. “Good. Pretend I didn’t say it. This doesn’t change anything.”

The hell it doesn’t.

My heart aches in a new and unfamiliar way as she tucks herself under the blanket and rolls over, giving me her back. The frustration burns hotter when her breathing quickly evens out, her body sliding into slumber before I can figure out what to say.

She loves me.

She can’t take that back. She wouldn’t lie about something like that. She’s too pure.

I took advantage of her feeling insecure and threatened, I moved her into my bed. I took her damn virginity.

It might not have been to protect her all along.

And her only response is that she loves me?

I don’t deserve her. I never will.

And I don’t know how to get her out of this trap I set for her.

I didn’t mean to hurt you, I think as I stare at the spill of her lovely hair over my pillow.

But I know that if I say that out loud, it’ll only hurt her further.

She slides out of bed at dawn. She moves fast for a girl who’s only had a few hours sleep.

Like a coward, I lay there and listen to her have a shower in the bathroom across the hall.

I pretend to be asleep when she returns and gets dressed.

But when she goes upstairs and I hear her tell Zane she’s heading into town early, that’s where I draw the line.

I’ve fucked up, but we don’t know that I’m the target. And if I’m not, I’m not letting her drive to work alone anymore. Whoever is doing this, for whatever their reasons, their anger at Haven is escalating.

I shove my legs into jeans and head upstairs.

“We’ll drive together,” I say as I take her coffee cup from her hands.

She presses her lips together to keep from protesting.

We share a second cup of coffee and some bacon and toast, then a quiet drive into town.

Yesterday feels like a surreal dream. To go from teaching her to dance on a mountain top to barely exchanging five words before she jumps out of my truck at the garage and darts across the street, even though the library isn’t open yet…

I drag in a tight breath, furious with myself.

That feeling only gets worse when there’s a voice mail message on the garage line from Jeb Fucking Martin, saying he wouldn’t need that brake appointment after all, because he got a better quote in Diamond Valley.

I’m glad I won’t have to see his fucking face, but I didn’t need to hear his fucking voice, either.

I grab the keys for the first car on my task sheet for the day. I just need to get my hands greasy to bury myself in work for the day.

And try my damnedest to not think about the fact that my brother is getting married in three days, and the last thing my family needs is to find out that I’ve broken Haven’s heart.