Page 60 of Pretty Little Scars

“I’m just following your lead. You tell me when you’re ready for me to drive us home.”

I pull back and frown up at him. His green eyes are bright, even in the darkness of my car, with just the dash lights casting a glow around us.

“Your truck?—”

“Will be fine until morning,” he replies. “It’s late, baby. I’ll call Easton, and he’ll arrange for it to get home. If you think I’ll leave you alone after all of this, when you already admitted that you’re too tired to drive, and now you’ve had a panic attack and you’re shaking like a fucking leaf, you don’t know me at all.”

I drag my fingertips down his chin and lean my forehead against his.

God, he’s good. So damn good.

“Thank you. Can we go back now?”

“As soon as you disentangle yourself from my torso.”

I grin at him. “Maybe we can sit here for a couple more minutes.”

“Whatever you need.”

His hands drift up and down my back, he peppers kisses on my forehead and my cheeks, as we sit in the darkness. It’s growing quiet now, and my eyes are so heavy.

“I should let you drive me home now,” I whisper. “Before I fall asleep and you’re trapped under me.”

“Being trapped under you is now on my bucket list.” He kisses my mouth and then tenderly sets me aside on the seat next to him. “Do you want to be up front, or do you want to sleep back here?”

“I’ll sit with you.”

He nods, and then he helps me to the passenger seat, gets me buckled in, and then circles around to the driver’s side, and within seconds, we’re headed toward his ranch.

“You got to me in way less than twenty minutes,” I comment as I watch him drive. His eyes are on the road ahead. “How many speeding tickets should you have?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He reaches out and takes my hand, kisses my knuckles, and then presses them to his chest.

And I promptly fall asleep.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

TUCKER

She’s sleeping soundly next to me, but I don’t drop her hand. That might have been the scariest hour of my damn life. I could hear the exhaustion and then the fear and panic in her voice, and I couldn’t get to her fast enough.

I want to destroy her father for making her life a living hell and giving her this trauma to live with.

She deserved so much better than that. She should feel safe, always.

When I pull in front of the house, I cut the engine, and Darby stirs next to me. She stretches her legs out, rolls her ankles, and then blinks her pretty blue eyes open and looks at me in the dark.

“We’re back,” I tell her.

“I’ll head to the cabin.”

Absolutely fucking not.

“I want you with me tonight, Duchess. Let me take care of you.”

She bites her lip and then nods in agreement. Not giving her the chance to change her mind, I get out of the car and circle around to help her out. She’s so tired that her movements are sluggish, as if her limbs are just too heavy, and when weget inside, I can see that she wasn’t lying when she said she’s covered in ...stuff.