Page 63 of Fear Me Not

Levi shrugs. “Yeah, well, it’s a big bird, and I remember how bad of a cook you are, Aspen.” He throws me a wink.

“Hey,” I protest and grab a nearby tea towel and throw it at his head.

He snatches it out of the air and laughs, then proceeds to chase me around the kitchen, whipping the backs of my legs while I squeal. I like this fun, playful side of Levi. He keeps it hidden too much.

Dov catches me and pulls me onto his lap. To my surprise, he kisses me, right there, in front of his father and brother.

The action snatches my breath. I’ve never known him to be so affectionate in public. I kiss him back, and, as I pull away, I catch Blake and Levi exchange a glance and a small smile. They want this. Blake loves his son. Levi loves his brother. They want to see him happy.

I feel a protectiveness toward Dov, and I wonder if that feeling is mutual. Levi told me that he’s in love with me, and the longer I spend with him, the more I believe that. He might not have the words to express it to me, but the way he is around me—almost reverent—means more to me than words.

“What’s that?” Blake asks of the wrapped gift I’ve put on the table.

“Oh, it’s for you.”

“We don’t normally do gifts on Thanksgiving,” Blake says.

“I know, but I just couldn’t wait until Christmas.”

It’s strange that I can think of being here until Christmas and into the New Year without my stomach gripping with dread. Then the thaw will come and I’ll have a big decision to make. Stay or go?

All the fears I have about real life haven’t gone anywhere. I still don’t know how I’ll cope alone and broke. But those aren’t reasons to stay.

Looking forward to spring at Windridge Hall, to a retreat of all the frightening things that have come to light in the winter months, to be able to live my dreams of drawing, of going back to fun sexy times with the men, hiking with Levi. My nights with Dov. Those are all reasons to want to stay.

I try not to think about Tobias and what will happen when someone tracks down where he might have gone.

Blake’s face creases in a frown. “I haven’t gotten you anything.”

“I wasn’t expecting anything. Besides, you’ve given me a home. What more could I ask for?”

He throws me a heart-stoppingly gorgeous smile and rips at the paper.

I hate that I’m still practically begging for Blake’s approval. That’s partially the reason for the framed drawing. I want to please him, and a little part of me hates myself for that.

Blake stares down at the drawing, and I struggle to read his expression.

“My God, Pen.”

I chew the inside of my cheek. “Do you hate it?”

He lifts his gaze to mine. “Hate it? God, no. It’s incredible. Truly.”

I risk a smile. “Honestly?”

“You need to have a career doing this, you know. Your artwork would sell easily.”

“Thank you. Doing that is my dream.”

I keep my mouth shut against all the objections running through me. How I wouldn’t know where to start selling beyond the few portraits I’ve done for people I’ve known directly. Is he talking about a website—not so easy when he claims there’s no internet here—or a physical gallery—again, not so easy.

I remind myself that I can’t give my heart to him completely, however much I might want to. He hurt me in a way I’m not sure I can even fathom properly, and it’s dangerous to allow myself to believe I’m safe with him.

I look around at the other two men. Am I safe with any of them?

Even though I know what they’ve done, and what they’re capable of, I feel safe. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m at home, with a family around me, and I can’t find the words to explain how much that means.

“I made you something, too,” Dov says.