Scars of Yesterday (Sons of Templar MC #8) - Anne Malcom Page 0,129

hold my tears back.

Kace dried his hands and moved around the breakfast bar, twirling me in my chair so he was standing in between my legs. He grasped either side of my neck. “Wish I could protect you from this. From any kind of fuckin’ pain. You’ve had enough. If you let me, I’ll love you every day of my life. Do everything to make sure it’s a long one. I’ll love your kids too. I won’t ask you to love me. Not right now. But I’ll wear you down. eventually”

I stared at him.

I’d known Kace loved me for some time now. He wasn’t exactly hiding it. He’d been saying it with everything but words. But I was well practiced at denial. An expert in it, some would say. So I’d chosen not to think about what I knew deep down.

Now I had no choice

And I did already love him. Evie had called me out on that. Something else I’d been denying.

No way I could say it out loud, though. Not even now.

It felt like it would be a curse. Among other things, it felt too soon. Too permanent.

So I didn’t say it back. Though large parts of me really wanted to.

“Why did you choose this?” I mused. “This complicated, arduous, hard version of love. Of life. Why did you walk over to me that night? Why did you mow my lawn? Why did you choose to love me?”

“The night at the club wasn’t the first time I saw you,” he answered. “I was running on the beach early in the morning. My first morning here. My mind was rushing. Moving. Questioning my decisions, my actions, haunting me with things I’ve done. Something that happens a lot. Can’t get out of this lifestyle, this world unscathed. Even if you were born for it. Even if you love it.”

Kace’s hands moved up and down my arms.

“The things that you love scar you the most, after all,” he murmured. “So I don’t sleep well, when that scar tissue hurts. And I run. No one was on the beach. No one but you. You were just standing there. At the edge of the water. You were wearing PJs. And a jacket. An old one. Much too big for you.”

I remembered that. It was after one of our nights at Evie’s. We had stayed the night. Because of whisky. Because I’d been using any excuse not to sleep in the bed that didn’t smell of my husband anymore.

The kids liked it. Being around family. They probably also liked being away from their beds, ones their father had tucked them into for their entire lives up until then.

I’d woken from a nightmare. Or I guess you could call it a good dream, since Ranger was still alive in it. We were sitting by the ocean, my back to his front. His hands were wrapped around me, and I felt safe. Warm.

The nightmare began when I woke up. Cold, because I’d kicked off all the covers. Because I was alone.

It hit me then, much harder than it had up until that moment. That my husband would only ever exist in my dreams. That I would never smell him, feel him again.

It was as if a scalding hot knife had ripped through my belly. I didn’t think then, I’d just grabbed my keys and left, knowing that the kids were safe, sleeping, had Evie there if I wasn’t there when they woke up.

I didn’t remember the drive to the beach. Which was a bad thing when you were the only remaining parent of two beautiful children. Luckily, it was too early for anyone in Amber to be awake, and I made it there without incident.

The ocean was the wrong place to go. As soon as I set foot on the sand, I knew that. Recreating my dream wasn’t going to make him magically appear. But maybe that had been what I’d needed then. To know there was no way out of this. That there weren’t going to be any miracles. I needed to be comfortable in my nightmare.

I didn’t remember anyone else being on the beach with me. I did remember feeling more alone than I ever had in my entire life. I was far too occupied by the pain I was in to notice any other living thing. Too focused on one dead man.

“You stopped me in my tracks,” Kace recalled. “Literally. It was like I ran into a wall. Something about you. The way you