Billie Rose
I don’t know what I expected.
I’d been arrested, thrown in a cell for hours.
But Joel’s entryway littered with belongings, the floor marred with dirty footprints, wasn’t something I anticipated. I wanted a bath and to go to bed, to sleep for a hundred hours. Not…this.
Not… I shifted out of the circle of his arms, moved to the side.
And my stomach clenched.
Because the ground floor of Joel’s house was open concept.
Which meant that from three feet inside his front door, I could see everything—the kitchen, the great room, the dining nook, the large windows that were dark sheets of glass at the moment, but when the sun was up, revealed a huge wraparound deck that sat above a background that Joel had worked his ass off to make beautiful.
After the fire had torn everything away from him.
And now…
It was a fucking disaster.
The footprints were everywhere. But that wasn’t what was bad, what was horrible. It was everything else.
Every drawer and cabinet in the kitchen was open, their contents scattered.
The vase I’d put daisies in just a few days before sat on its side, the flowers removed, strewn on the counter, the floor, their petals crushed into the wooden planks.
The basket my parents had dropped off a few days ago—a peace offering from my mom, who knew what from my dad—had been pulled open, the containers clearly rifled through. Stools were overturned, the fridge door had been left open and was beeping intermittently.
The cushions ripped off the couch, tossed on the floor, books astray, furniture out of place.
Even our jackets had been removed from the hooks in the entry, dumped onto the floor, the little basket I kept on a small table askew.
“It’s just a mess,” Joel murmured. “We’ll get it cleaned up in the morning.”
My gaze slid down the hall and I saw the sliver of light glinting off the floor.
I sucked in a breath.
“What?” he murmured, reaching for me.
But I was already moving, sprinting down the hall, pushing into my office…and skidding to a stop, heart breaking.
This space had been my space.
My safe space.
The one room that was mine, created for me by the man who loved me. A demonstration of that love, of his care and thoughtfulness, of…him and I together. The person I could be when I was with him. The woman who deserved that much love and care and—
Him.
And that was…
Gone.
Scattered like the rolls of washi tape on the floor.
Torn like the special stickers Joel had commissioned for me.
Stained like the cushy, and way too expensive rug he’d bought to make this room cozy.
Tipped over like the chairs I’d curled up in so freaking often, reading late into the night.
Destroyed.
I exhaled, blinked back tears, but then Joel was there, his strong arm banding around my middle, drawing me back against his chest.
“Shh,” he whispered, turning me, weaving his hands into my hair, tucking my head beneath his chin. “It’s fine. It’s going to be fine.”
“It’s not f-fine.” Shit. My voice cracked, tears clinging to my lashes, killing me. I needed to be strong and calm and focused. I needed to be all of those things so Joel would be comfortable leaving me to handle the pile of shit heaped on my lap. I needed to be all of those, so he wouldn’t worry, so he could play hockey, so he could live out his dream without my stuff fucking up his life.
He’d already had more than enough to deal with over the last year.
What with his ex-wife showing up.
What with finding out he wasn’t actually divorced…and supposed to be.
What with a fucking fire burning down his house.
I clenched my hands into fists, digging my nails into my palms, and struggled for control. It worked. The pain centered me, allowed me to focus, to breathe.
To stop the fucking tears before they escaped any further.
To wall up my emotions.
To just breathe and think and then…to pull out of the circle of his arms.
I turned for the hall, found myself stayed by a hand on my shoulder. “Rosie baby,” he said gently, so fucking gently that I nearly lost all that hard-fought control I’d just managed to obtain.
“I’m just going to grab some trash bags and the broom,” I whispered, tugging at his hold.
“We should get some rest.”
“You should get some rest,” I countered. “You were the one on a bus half the night last night and up early on the ice this morning.”
“I didn’t make it to the ice.”
I cringed. “I know.”
“Shit, Rosie baby,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know,” I whispered.
Fingers on my chin, turning my face up to his. “I didn’t mean it like that, baby.”
“I know,” I whispered again.
He flattened his palm on my jaw, leaned down and brushed his lips over mine. “Come on, sweetheart,” he said softly, drawing back and taking my hand. “We’re going to bed. Tomorrow we can worry about clean up,” he added when I opened my mouth to protest, already drawing me down the hall.
“But—”
Suddenly, he’d spun back around, big body crowding mine, bumping me lightly back into the wall, palms pressed to either side of my head, bracketing me in, blocking me from the mess, from the rest of the world. “We’re going to bed,” he gritted out. “We’re getting some fucking sleep. Because my dad will be back in the morning and so will Bailey and Axel and Dessie—”
“But—”
“Our house is about to be full, Rosie baby. The people who love you—and there are fucking many—are going to close ranks.” He settled his forehead against mine. “So brace, sweetheart. Brace and get those fucking thoughts out of your head. Everyone who loves you knows you. Here”—he dropped a hand to the spot over my heart”—they know you here, and they know you love this town and them equally as much. They know you would never do anything to jeopardize that. So sit in that, breathe that in, fucking accept it. And then”—he bent that big, strong body of his, scooped me up, held me tight against his chest—“deal with the fact that I’m here and I’m not going to leave you to handle this on your own. Deal with the fact that I love you, and that means I’m right fucking here, that you’re not going to pull some Mayoral Magic bullshit and wave your wand and make this all go away.” He dropped me on the bed, bent over me, hands on either side of my head again, only horizontally this time. “I’m not going away. No matter how hard you push.”
I inhaled.
Blinked rapidly.
“Okay?” he pressed.
“Okay,” I whispered.
Because I knew I had no other choice except to tell him that.
Because I didn’t know if I had any Mayoral Magic left and my wand had been broken, and I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t end up alone.
I just…didn’t have the strength to go down that road.
To think about how broken I would be if I did.
So, I just let Joel kiss me, let him help me exchange my clothes for pajamas and tuck me beneath the messy blankets, let him turn off the lights, hiding the chaos of the bedroom.
And I let him hold me as we both fell asleep.
Even though it took a long, long time.