Page 72 of Speechless
Jenna had shot past him just as he closed the door behind Mackintyre. She hadn’t stopped when he called her name, had almost fallen back down the stairs in her haste to get up them.
Something had pulled her trigger.
“All right, dog. This is not getting you and me off to a good start. Halt.”
Canine lips peeled back further.
Patience thinning, Connor levelled her with a stare any submissive would submit to. “I’m her protector as much as you are, and she’s been mine a lot longer. Back the fuck down.” He dropped his voice to a snarl matching the dog’s. “Halt.”
The bitch’s snarls lowered to disgruntled grumbles, but she acknowledged his dominance. Licking her lips, she backed away, sat by Jenna’s head with a quiet whine.
“Good girl. Good dog.” Moving carefully, Connor approached Jenna while holding out his hand to the dog. He waited for several long seconds before the bitch sniffed and licked his hand, then laid down with a sigh. “Yeah, you’re a good girl. I need to take care of my other good girl now, okay?”
He rolled Jenna tentatively, supporting her head. Her eyes were wide open, pupils surrounded by the thinnest sliver of green. “I thought we were past this, baby. This was supposed to be behind us.”
Connor lifted her, cradled her, carried her. The winded feeling in his gut wasn’t from his mad dash up the stairs to reach her—it came from the helpless sensation of watching her take a massive tumble away from where they’d been heading.
He laid her on his side of the bed, hoping she’d be comforted by his scent on the pillows when she broke from the shock. Murmuring to her, he stripped her down to bare skin, then found her favorite T-shirt—the original one with the bull on the front—and bundled her into it.
The dog leaped up beside him, sniffing curiously over the covers before settling down next to Jenna, her head resting on his woman’s shoulder. Those insanely intelligent eyes watched every move he made.
“Making yourself at home pretty quick,” he commented dryly. “Just note, when I’m in the bed, you go on the floor. No negotiations on that, dog.”
“Jenna named her Luna.”
Connor’s head whipped up to the doorway. Sarah stood there, half the woman she usually was, with her hands wringing together nervously. “Come on in, Sarah. No need to look so worried. She’ll be fine.”
“I don’t know if she will. I don’t know if you guys will.”
Alarm bells clanged as a tear slipped down her cheek. Connor patted the bed next to him. He wasn’t going to like what she had to say, he decided, but ripping her head off when she was visibly distressed wouldn’t solve anything. “Sit down, Sarah. Tell me.”
“Connor, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking, and I said the wrong fucking thing. I’m so sorry.”
“Sarah. Come. Sit.”
Head hanging, she shuffled into the bedroom and sat gingerly beside him. She trembled, and he had to question if she was afraid of him. His answer was a head shake.
Sarah told him her conversation with Jenna from start to horrible finish. Her remorse, clearly evident, negated any anger he might have allowed himself to feel. His friend was already smacking herself around without him adding his two cents.
Years of friendship left him with no doubt she accepted the full blame for the incident, but the truth was, she couldn’t. He’d been so busy trying to protect Jenna from sex for a little while longer, he’d pushed her into a conversation she wasn’t quite ready for—he’d recognized her curiosity and blown it off.
Apparently, this was the price he paid.
“I overstepped my bounds, Connor.”
He grabbed her hand, forging a link between them. He hated seeing her this way almost as much as he loathed the idea of Jenna having a panic attack thinking he would hurt her. “Sarah, how long have we been friends? Me and you, we have no bounds. You speak your mind, always have, and God willing, always will. Being friends with Jenna makes her happy, and you only did what friends do—you told her the truth.”
“She wasn’t ready—”
“She has triggers, Sarah. We’d reached a point where she needed to take the next step and instead of nurturing her curiosity, I restricted it. This is a result of my actions, not yours. The consequences are mine to fix, and believe me, I will fix them.” He leaned over and kissed her temple. “My best friend wouldn’t do anything to sabotage me or the woman I love—not when you love her just as much. Go home to Zeke, Sarah. Have a good cry on his shoulder, fuck his brains out, and have a quiet evening with the family when the boys get home from school. Tomorrow’s a new day.”
“I do love her, Con. She’s like my baby sister.”
“I know.” He patted their joined hands on her knee. “So does she.”
Chapter Fifteen
Fortune favors the wicked.