Page 74 of Love Bound

That night, he doesn't go back to The Inn. He roasts a chicken and makes garlic mashed potatoes with heavy cream, a huge pile of green beans, and molasses cookies for dessert. It turns out I can go from "not hungry" to "ravenous" in ten minutes. He even trots to the store to get a can of cranberry sauce.

I take two Naproxen just for aches and pains, and Finn feeds Salty. He's watched me level out the grain so many times now that he knows what he's doing.

When we lie together, he spoons me. His tall, muscular body curving against mine. His chest to my back. His stomach to my buttocks. His legs wrapped around mine. Twice, I feel the beginning of an erection and twice, he pulls away from me for a while before settling back.

I am drunk with sleep and in love with this man who kisses my sore mouth so tenderly, he steals my breath.

With his arms around me I fall into a deep sleep, exhausted, the spiraling thought of a small worry finding its way back into my dreams.

Chapter Twenty

Finn

"I don’t see how this is a good idea." Bryce sits in his black Corolla, one hand tapping his knee to some incoherent music in his head.

"I just want him to see me. I want him to know I'm on to him," I say.

"You sure you aren’t carrying?"

"No."

"No, you aren’t sure, or no, you're sure?"

"No, I don't carry anymore. Period," I state.

"I find that hard to believe."

So do I. I stopped carrying the day I thought about putting a handgun to my head.

I had decided not to tell Nic or Bryce about the harassment order. There was no need to fuel their hesitation about me staking out Steven Miller's shitty apartment.

"Hey, I'm so sorry about Claire. Is she doing okay?" This is a stretch for Bryce. Talking about girlfriends and inquiring about feelings does not come easy for him.

"She's fine," I say. I don't want to tell him about the fight we had when I'd left. How angry she'd been with me. Her fury when she saw me packing clothes this morning, and how her back had stiffened when I bent to kiss her goodbye.

She'd sent Devon home in retaliation, though she agreed to go to Laurel and Devon's for dinner tonight.

I spoke with Devon on my way out of town to be sure she checked on her sister. Cory gave me a paper airplane. I tousled his hair and Laurel looked surprised. Two hours later I got a text from Claire.

Cory doesn’t let anyone mess with his hair. It’s taken years for Laurel just to get a brush through those curls and haircuts are a nightmare. So I can’t be that mad at you. Love you, always.

"Target," Bryce says quietly.

There, walking up the street, with a duffel bag in one hand, is the man who nearly killed Claire. And, as Nic suggested, is the asshole who is playing me.

He's striking looking, with sandy hair, his eyes oddly naïve and gullible. People say he has a sweet face, handsome. I can't see it anymore. To most people, he looks like your average guy—not a monster.

Bryce glances at me. "So, are we doing this?"

I answer his question by opening the car door.

We come up behind Miller fast, and just as he gets his key in the lock, he turns around to face us, eyes wide, a mix of faux fear and arrogance driving a smile to his face. "You assholes really want to kick me around?"

"I'm on to you, Miller. Come close again, and I'll—"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You need to stay away from Claire Russo," Bryce says in a more professional tone.