Blackstone Ranger Guardian - Alicia Montgomery Page 0,70
through it.” And he hoped, that someday, the wolf shifter would be able to conquer his demons. “So, uh, would you like to come in?”
“Yes.”
Pushing the door open, he let her go inside first. “Dutchy, I—”
“No.” She held a hand up. “Let me go first.”
“Okay.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, John, for blowing up at you this morning. For thinking the worst of you when you were only trying to help.” Her expression was one of true remorse.
“You don’t have to say sorry,” he said. “I overstepped my bounds. Invaded your privacy. And I … I shouldn’t have said that about that man in the picture with you.”
“Oh, John, you don’t have to worry about him.”
“I know. You had a life before you met me. I was being insecure and hurt. You’re right. I should stop trying to fix you. You don’t have to be fixed, Dutchy. You’re wonderful and perfect, just the way you are.”
She smiled shyly at him. “I am?”
“Uh-huh. And I meant what I said. I’ll take care of you. Whatever you want to do, I’ll support you.”
“Really?
“Yeah.”
“And if I never design again?”
“Then you can do whatever you want. Be what you want to be.”
“Like what?”
“Anything.” He took her hands and wrapped them in his. “Anything your heart wants. Be a dancer. A singer. Lawyer. Taxidermist.”
She giggled. “I don’t know if taxidermists are in demand in Blackstone. What would I do for money?”
“You wouldn’t need to worry about that,” he said. “I’d take care of you. You can stay home with the cubs and—” He stopped short, realizing what he just said. But the thought of it—Dutchy carrying his cubs, her belly growing round, made something primal in him rejoice. Her silence, however, planted a seed of doubt in his gut. “I didn’t mean … if you … we don’t—”
“Kits.”
“What?”
Tears gathered at the corners of her pale blue eyes. “Foxes … have kits.”
“Oh. Of course,” he swallowed hard.
“But I’d like at least one of each,” she finished. “One kit and one cub. To start, anyway.”
He sucked in a breath. “Dutchy—”
Her hands reached up and pulled him down for a kiss. Happiness, relief, pure joy, burst from his chest as their mouths melded. Her sweet taste burst on his tongue, like tasting the first sun-ripened berries in the summer. Heat and desire curled in his belly, but more than that, something else stirred inside him. Emotion. True emotions he never thought he’d ever feel. “I love you, Dutchy,” he breathed against her lips.
“John …” She kissed him deep. “I lov—”
“Wait.”
“What’s wrong?”
It pained him to stop her, but he couldn’t let her say the words without fully knowing the truth about him. “Before you continue … I need to tell you something.” His heart pounded in his chest, and he could only pray that Damon was right.
Chapter Eighteen
“John?” Dutchy peered up at him. “John, what’s the matter?” Did he not want her to say the words? To return the love she could clearly see in his eyes and feel in her bones?
“You were right, Dutchy,” he began. “About me keeping things from you. I didn’t want to tell you the truth because I thought you would hate me—”
“I could never—”
“Please, Dutchy.” He grabbed her hands and kissed her palms. “Wait. And listen. And then decide if I’m worthy of you.”
How could he even think he wasn’t worthy? After all this time and all the things he did to be with her? For her? “All right. Tell me.”
Taking her hand in his, he pulled her to the leather chair in the corner, sat her down, and knelt in front of her. “When I was in the Special Forces, my commander—Damon—sent me and my team into a market building.…”
The pain in his eyes was evident as he recounted the events that led to the deaths of his team members and how seeking out justice for them took its toll on him. She wanted to reach out and take all that away. To comfort him and make everything right.
“I’m sorry for what you went through,” she said, cupping his face. “But you did what you had to do. For your friends who were killed and so those terrorists could never hurt anyone again.”
“There’s more,” he said, his voice cracking unnaturally. “After that … I couldn’t control my bear. It wanted more blood, more violence. So, I hid out in the mountains, staying far away from anyone who I could hurt. But it didn’t last too long. And I … I killed again.”
“What happened?”