Page 37 of Won't Back Down

He was walking by to put the cheese and butter back into the fridge when I noticed the ink on his left shoulder.

“You have a tattoo.” Instinctively, I reached out to run a finger over the intricate compass with a quartet of swallows. “It’s beautiful.”

He glanced over his shoulder at me, and I realized he’d stopped with the cheese still in his hands. “All four of us got one right before we shipped out from basic training to our first postings. A reminder we’d always be there for each other.”

“I like that.” Aware I was practically petting his shoulder like a cat, I dropped my hand.

Sawyer continued on to the fridge, putting the food away. “What about you? Do you have any ink hiding somewhere?” His teasing smile told me he didn’t expect the answer to be yes.

“Actually, I do.”

“Oh, really?” Looking more than a little intrigued, he flipped the sandwiches.

Because it was the middle of the night and felt like a time for confessions, I slid off the counter and turned my back to him, lifting my hair to reveal the nape of my neck. His finger gently traced the design, and I shivered at the touch.

“A wren,” he murmured.

Dropping my hair, I turned to face him. “More specifically, a wren taking flight. I got it after I came back to the island.”

“Why a wren?”

“You were always the one who didn’t treat me like I was broken. You gave me strength, so it was sort of my way of keeping you with me after you left.” After the words were out, I realized they probably revealed more than I’d intended. But I could see that it meant something to him that I’d effectively inked our connection onto my body. Made him a part of me.

He took a step closer, closing the distance between us to mere inches. I had to tip my head back to keep his gaze. The air between us felt electric and raw. Intimate. Testing the moment as much as myself, I laid a hand on his chest, feeling the smooth, warm skin beneath my palm and the thudding heart beneath. When I licked my lips, he tracked the motion. His eyes darkened, his pupils springing wide as they drank me in. One hand curled around my hip, and he began to lower his head… only to jerk to a stop, his nostrils flaring.

“Shit.” He leapt toward the stove, shoving the pan off the burner and saving our snack from ruination.

I ached at the loss of the moment. At what might have happened without that interruption. And it was an interruption. Whatever had been happening between us was over, as evidenced by Sawyer efficiently plating up the sandwiches and offering one to me. “A little crispy around the edges, but still edible.”

“I’m sure it’s fine. Thank you.”

We kicked back against opposite counters and ate standing up, chasing the food with glasses of milk. I gave Roy the last bite of mine, which he nipped delicately from my fingers and promptly chomped in one bite. I did feel better, and that was more than I’d expected, given my usual response to nightmares.

“I think maybe I could go back to sleep.”

“Okay then.” He made sure the stove was off and escorted me back upstairs.

At the door to my room, I hesitated. “Sawyer?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you stay with me?” Now that I was up here, I didn’t want to risk falling back into the dream.

“Sure.”

He followed me inside. We crawled into bed. Maybe it was pushing the envelope, but I reached for Sawyer’s arm, tugging it over my waist. He shifted, tucking around me as a proper big spoon. Roy assumed his position on my other side.

Sandwiched between my two protectors, I slid into a blessedly dreamless sleep.

CHAPTER 18

SAWYER

Iwoke to the scent of vanilla and lavender. Sometime in the night, Willa had shifted positions to face me. She slept like a koala, snuggled close against my chest, her head on my shoulder, an arm and a leg wrapped around me. It was adorable, but for the effect her warm breath against my bare skin had on things south of the border. My dick stood at attention, begging me to work down those bit-of-nothing sleep shorts she wore so we could get up close and personal before the knee that was perilously close to my balls twitched and did some damage.

Sunlight streamed through the sheer curtains, brighter than I would’ve expected. I lifted my head to check the clock and nearly jolted as a massive black head popped up on Willa’s other side. Roy blinked at me with big, golden eyes. I’d have sworn he arched one doggy brow at me, as if to say he wasn’t at all sure how he felt about sharing his bed with the likes of me. Or maybe it was jealousy that his mama was wrapped around me instead of him. I couldn’t blame him. The warm weight of her felt pretty fucking fantastic.

On the nightstand beyond, I finally spotted the clock. Nearly 7:30. Later than I’d thought, but God knew, she’d needed the sleep. I wondered how often she had nightmares. I gathered they weren’t infrequent, and I hated the idea of her having had to deal with those alone. Staying stuck in the fear because she couldn’t wake up or, worse, coming out of it with no one to comfort her. I mean, she had the dog, and I understood he was absolutely an emotional support animal. A damned good one at that. But it wasn’t the same as having someone take care of her. I liked being the one to do that. Probably way too much. Same as I liked being in this bed with her, just like this.