It took Micah hours to fall asleep. But finally his little body lay still in her twin bed, his breaths coming deeply. Eden shifted away, easing onto her back. Her arm was asleep from the weight of his head, and tingles spread as circulation was restored. She shivered, pulling the quilt up to her chin. She hadn’t felt warm for hours, and her head was pounding from the blow she’d received.
She glanced at the clock. It was past three in the morning, and she was wide awake. So much had happened. She was still in shock from the ordeal. In shock from being held at gunpoint, from seeing Beau under fire, from seeing Langley shot in the head.
As if the trauma weren’t enough, being trapped had brought it all back. The fear, the insecurity, the vast hopelessness. In recent months she’d pushed those feelings deep into the recesses of her mind. But tonight’s distress had freed them, and like buoys they’d burst to the surface.
She felt restless and scared and trapped.
No. You’re not trapped, Eden. Not anymore. You’re free to live your life any way you want.
Her heart beat out a wild tattoo. She wanted to pull the covers over her head and hide. But there was nothing to hide from anymore. She’d already broken free of the chains. They were hanging open around her wrists, but she was afraid to flee.
She shook the thought away. There were no manacles, not anymore. Tomorrow she’d put her bags in her car and head north. By day’s end they’d be settled at Loon Lake. She’d finally be in control of her own destiny.
She thought of Beau, and her heart twisted. She’d miss him. So much. She’d gotten too attached. What had she been thinking? But she’d never turn her free will over to a man again. Never make a man’s needs the center of her life. Never go back to feeling worthless and hopeless.
Her head was cranking. She wasn’t going to go to sleep like this. She slipped from beneath the covers and tiptoed down the steps. She could swear the smell of cloves and cigarettes hung in the air. Her mind flashed back, and she could feel the cold metal of the barrel pressed to her neck.
She held her breath until she reached the kitchen. Hands shaking, she poured a glass of water, popped a couple of ibuprofen, and took her glass into the living room. She stopped at the sight of a lump on the sofa. The TV light flickered across Beau’s face, and her heart began beating again.
Maybe she should just sneak back upstairs. She shifted to go, and the floorboard creaked.
“You’re awake,” he said.
“Couldn’t sleep.”
“Come ’ere.” He opened the quilt, and she couldn’t stop herself going to him.
She settled against his side. She needed comfort right now, wherever she could get it. And he did feel so good, soft Henley stretched over hard muscle. She burrowed into his side and let his body warm her.
He wrapped the quilt around her and rubbed her shoulder. “You’re cold. Want me to start a fire?”
“No. This is good.” More than good. Pretty perfect, actually.
Step away from the man, Eden.
But the man was stroking the tender underside of her arm, and she needed this like she needed air. Tomorrow. Tomorrow was soon enough.
“Jack’s finally asleep. It took a long time.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes. His heart beat against her cheek. She closed her eyes and drew in a breath of him. He smelled so good, so familiar. She breathed again, attempting to memorize the smell. She’d access the detail later when Beau was nothing but a distant memory.
“I thought I’d lost you.” His voice rumbled in her ear. “When I got home and saw that SUV . . . my chest got so tight I could hardly breathe.” His arms tightened around her. “I’ve never prayed so hard in all my life.”
“You and me both. The sled ran out of gas. We were trapped in the cave.” She felt the walls closing in now. She closed her eyes. Reminded herself she wasn’t trapped anymore. “I thought we were both going to die.”
Beau tightened his grip. “I wasn’t going to let that happen.”
He laid his cheek against her head. Their hearts beat in tandem for a long minute.
“Tell me your name,” he whispered into the silence.
He still wanted too much of her. More than she could ever give him. She suddenly realized his expectations about the future might be very different than hers. The nightmare was over, and she was free.
But that meant very different things to each of them.
“Beau . . .” Gathering her courage, she turned her head, meeting his gaze. She faltered when she saw his warm brown eyes gazing so lovingly down at her. The familiar turn of his nose, the scruffy jaw, those perfect lips . . . all of it drew her in, made her want what she couldn’t have.
“I-I’m still leaving tomorrow. You know that, right?”
Shadows shifted as he searched her face. “You . . . you mean to go see your dad? He’s probably been a worried wreck.”
“No, that’s not—I’m not going to see my dad. I have things planned out, Beau . . . a future for Jack and me. That hasn’t changed.”
His eyes pierced hers, something flickering there that put a hollow pit in the center of her stomach. “And that future . . . it doesn’t include me?”
His words, the hurt on his face, tore at her heart. It was all too tempting. This house, this family, this town. This man. They all pulled at her like a riptide. But she knew the dangers that lay that way. She could easily drift into a life like that, and before she knew it, she’d be in over her head, flailing, sinking. Trapped.
She wouldn’t let herself go that direction again. She’d made a promise to herself. To Micah.
“We were never going to happen, Beau. I’ve been through too much to go backward.”
He gave her a weak smile. Kissed the top of her head. “You’re tired. You’ve had a traumatic night.”
“My answer won’t change.”
His brows creased as he studied her. That knowing gaze seeing far too much. “I’m not him.”
“I know. I know that.”
But did she really? She knew there were good men. She thought Beau was one of them. But she’d thought Antonio was, too, and how wrong she’d been.
“Then why? Why wouldn’t you stay? You like it here. You both do. You could work for the farm, get your website business up and going again. Nothing has to change. You could stay here.”
Right under his thumb.
The quilt suddenly felt like a lead cape. His arm like a restraint. Heat prickled the hair at the back of her neck.
She pushed away, letting the quilt fall from her shoulder. “I won’t build my life around a man again.”
“I’m not asking you to do that.”
She stood. “I have to go. It’s for the best.”
His eyes searched hers. “You don’t trust me.”
“I know you’re not Antonio. I know that. But I thought he was a good man too. I was fooled. For so long I thought it was me. He had me thinking I was crazy. That I was worthless. That I couldn’t do anything right. But the only thing I was guilty of was bad judgment.
“Don’t you see, Beau? It’s not you I don’t trust; it’s myself. I lost me, and I’m only beginning to discover who I am. I swore I’d never go back to that. And I won’t. I won’t. No matter how much part of me might want to. No matter how much I might wish things were different . . .”
She flung her arms out. “I want to be free. For the first time in my life, I want to be completely free. I have no idea what that even feels like!”
Her breaths came quickly. Her heart pounded, kicking against her ribs as if she were in the fight of her life. She’d spilled her guts. She couldn’t say it any clearer. But the look on his face was tearing her in two.
Beau stood slowly, caution in every line of his body. He took a careful step forward. Then another.
She made herself hold her ground. Her heart felt as if it might pop from her chest. Her nails dug into her palms.
He stopped when he was a breath away. “I’m not trying to take your freedom. God knows you deserve it after being married to that monster. I don’t want to trap you or hold you back or control you.” He gently cupped her face. “I only want to love you, honey.”
Her breath hitched. Her chest squeezed, tightening painfully. Why did this have to be so hard? So confusing. She wanted that. So badly.
Those mocha eyes hypnotized her. He leaned down, drawing closer until his lips met hers. The kiss was so soft and tender her heart turned over in her chest. His thumb moved across her face, stirring every cell to life.
She braced herself against the firm wall of his chest. His heart thumped beneath her palm, hard and fast, matching her own.
As he pulled her closer her hands followed the muscled planes of his shoulders. His lips parted hers, and a mewling sound escaped from someplace deep inside her. She curled her arms around him tighter until his belt buckle dug into her stomach and his thighs pressed against hers.
His fingers sank into her hair, pulling her back until their lips barely touched. “I love you, baby,” he whispered, his voice as thick as honey.
She went liquid, just melted into a puddle. She was helpless against the warmth in his eyes, the gentle assault of his lips on hers. He was like a drug. She couldn’t get enough. Couldn’t quit him.
But she had to.
She had to.
Her heart cried out in protest. He made her feel so good. So right.
So did Antonio, remember? Then everything changed.
She pushed at the thought. Held it under with all her mental strength. But she couldn’t hold it all back. Pieces popped to the surface around her.
The thermostat she was forbidden to adjust. The monotonous hues of her clothes, hanging straight in her closet. The library book hurled into the trash can. Her emotions, stifled. Her life, lonely. Her identity, gone.
Fear clawed at her chest. She tore her mouth away, pushed at him. Her breaths became ragged gasps.
He caught her shoulders. “What? What’s wrong?”
The words locked tight in her throat. She shook her head, needing time. Space. Lots of space. “I can’t do this.”
“I’m rushing you. I’m sorry. We can go as slow as you like. Just stay.”
She steeled herself against the look in his eyes and shook her head.
“I see the way you look at me,” he said. “I feel the way you respond to me. I’ve never felt this way, not about anyone. You feel it, too, I know you do.” He searched her eyes and she felt exposed, her feelings for him spilled wide open.
He shook his head. “You won’t throw this away. You won’t go.”
A chill passed through her at the eerily familiar words. Her mind finished the thought Antonio had voiced so many times: No one else will want you. The walls of her chest closed in, squeezing so tight she couldn’t breathe.
“You’re wrong.”
She stepped out of his grasp and turned for the stairs. When he called after her she shut him out, her feet making quick work of the stairs.