Page 59 of Puck, Marry, Kill

And it is, indeed, the prettiest I’ve ever seen her.

Crickets are chirping in the dark outside, but here in Briar’s bed, it’s amazingly quiet. Even her loud thoughts are quiet as we lay together, our legs entwined.

“Are we going to do your cricket thing?” I murmur as I twirl a piece of her hair around my fingertips.

She lifts up, confusion-filled eyes finding me. “How do you know about that?”

Grinning, I admit, “Harley showed me. It’s a good bedtime routine.”

Her smile is sweet but hesitant. “You don’t think it’s silly?”

I shrug. “Maybe being silly is what makes it great. Close your eyes and count with me,” I tell her, pulling her back down to settle against my chest.

“One, two, three . . .”

We count together and I wait for her to go first. “The best part of my day was raising money for the zoo and Hadiah getting such a perfect name.” I feel her cheek lift against my chest as she smiles.

Nodding, I agree, “That’s a good one.”

“Let me guess, your best part is the sex,” she jokes. But there’s a question threaded through the teasing words. A reassurance she needs but doesn’t want to admit to.

“Sex with you was amazing, but the best part of my day is this right here, lying with you in my arms. This is the best.” I press a tender kiss to her forehead.

“Not sure what that says about my sex skills,” she grumbles, not sounding too disappointed in my words.

I chuckle. “No worries there. You’re good. Fucking phenomenal there, Briar. But thewhy, and the now? Those are even better.”

She cuddles into me a bit more. Even after everything, after making me see stars and coming twice, she’s not fully convinced that she’s enough. I hate that her past demons haunt her.

But I’m going to take particular pleasure in destroying every single one of them, until she knows without a doubt just how amazing she is.

Chapter 21

Briar

“I feel like I’m leading you into the slaughterhouse.” I stare out the window at the passing trees, unable to look at Dominic as I whisper the confession that makes me feel weaker than I have in years. My anxiety is through the roof, practically vibrating from my body, and I’ve already done the breathing exercises I haven’t had to call on in years.

Luckily, he’s driving, so his eyes are mostly on the road. But he reaches over to take my hand in his, setting them on the console between us. His thumb rubs tiny circles over the back of my hand like he’s trying to soothe my nerves, but I don’t think that’s possible.

“Two things,” Dom says.

Why does he sound so casual, like this isn’t the big deal that it is?

When he squeezes my hand, I force myself to drag my eyes his direction. Instantly, I realize my mistake. Dominic is not casual at all. He’s primed and ready for war, but where my battle preparedness is akin to a hyperactive squirrel trying to burrow into a hidey hole, his is that of a panther—cold, calculated, not wasting a bit of energy before the pounce. This isn’t the sweet, kind, thoughtful man who made breakfast with me this morning, then made me his second and third breakfast. Or would that be considered lunch? I’m not sure, and it doesn’t matter now. What matters is Harley.

“One, we don’t have to do this. If you’d rather pick up Harley on your own, you can. You’ve been successfully doing this exchange for years and don’t need me to step in and fight a fight you’ve got handled.” He lifts our entwined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. His acknowledgment of what I’ve had to handle on my own is appreciated. Not necessary, but appreciated.

“Two, I am more than happy to go with you. I’m not scared of Tyler. And you don’t need to be scared of how I will react. I’m steady. I’m good. I’m there for you and for Harley, not to measure dicks with Tyler and see whose is bigger.”

Dominic’s is. But I get his point.

I sigh, letting myself sink back into the headrest and stare at the truck ceiling. “You might be steady, but Tyler won’t be.” That’s the understatement of the century. Tyler has mentioned Dominic at every handover since the hospital, and even superficial things like the size of their trucks is going to stick in Tyler’s craw, so I hesitate to imagine what will happen when Harley happily greets Dominic, climbs in his truck, and we head off to his hockey game tonight. “Please don’t let him provoke you into doing something stupid.”

“Me? Do something stupid? I would never.” Dominic sounds like the hockey bro he sometimes is, which gives me second, third, and fourth thoughts.

As he comes to the last stoplight before our turn into the park, my brain is spinning out with all the possibilities. “Maybe this is a bad idea,” I say, nibbling on my bottom lip.

“Or maybe you’re letting Tyler determine your peace.”