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“Let me finish.” Just like the other night, Malcolm thought he understood what she was feeling, but he only understood a small part of it. “I’ve never been frightened of Andrew before. I was yesterday, but then you were there.” Her other hand touched the place where a fist had gripped her hair, forcing her head back. “I’ve never worried that you’d hurt me, Malcolm.”
His hand turned under hers, and their fingers linked. “You’ll always be safe with me,” he said.
She nodded. Of that, she really was certain. “The rest, it was a lot to take in. I wasn’t sure how I felt.”
“And now?” he asked.
Jami still wasn’t quite sure. When she looked at the man beside her, all she experienced was warmth, no fear. “Are you in trouble?”
“Let me worry about that.” Malcolm stared down at their hands. “My anger was out of control. There should be consequences for that.”
She turned toward him, studying his bowed head. “Why were you so angry?” she asked.
When his head rose and his eyes locked onto hers, her chest squeezed almost too tight. The brown of his eyes was so warm in the spreading daylight. His fingers brushed over her knuckles, but he shook his head. “Are you sure you want the answer?”
“I can’t, Malcolm.” Jami bit her lip but couldn’t look away. “I’m a shell of who I used to be. A broken one.”
“I can’t agree with that, but only you can change the way you see yourself.” Malcolm took a breath, then let it out. “Time is something I’ll always be willing to give you.”
He’d said that to her about sex too. The man’s control was back in place. It had been overwhelming to see it snap.
“There’s something else I’d like from you,” she said.
Malcolm searched her face, and she wondered why he looked so worried.
Jami’s nerves skittered over her skin where their hands remained connected. “Let me waitress.” She had expected his frown. “I’ve never had a job before.”
Malcolm opened his mouth, but then his lips pressed together. He sighed. “I get to decide your salary.”
Jami nodded. “As long as you make Tanya’s match it.” She smiled when he agreed. “Oh, and I need help finding a place to stay.” She looked over her shoulder at the house that had begun to feel like a home so quickly.
“I understand,” Malcolm said after a pause. “I’ll move out again.”
“You will not.” Jami narrowed her eyes. “Blake said you used to let people stay above the tavern.”
“Blake talks too much. I’ll move into The Last Shot, not you.”
“I don’t have a vehicle, Malcolm. Living there will be easier for me if I’m waitressing anyway.” She tilted her head. “And I expect to be charged rent.”
His lips thinned. “I’ll take it out of your paycheck.”
She doubted he really would, but decided not to argue about it. “This is only temporary. Until the insurance claim is settled and I figure out exactly what I want to do.”
Malcolm squeezed her hand. “Don’t rush yourself, Jami.”
Her lips spread in a smile. “The real me is more spontaneous than I’ve been letting on. You’ll start seeing some of that.”
He lifted their hands, brushing his lips over the back of hers. “I look forward to it.”
She couldn’t look away from his lips, much less shake the tingling sensation spreading across her skin.
“Come on.” Malcolm tugged her to her feet. “I’ll make us breakfast.”
Jami should have still been full from the food binge she’d had with her sister the night before, but her stomach twirled in anticipation of his pancakes. “Only if you double the jam this time.”
Malcolm laughed as she followed him inside, her hand still held in his.
Chapter 20
