Unraveling Him - Claire Kingsley Page 0,80

lives.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“They’re disgusting. And they deserve it.”

“You’re very vindictive when you want to be.”

“They hurt you.” I said.

He squeezed my hand. “Yeah.”

“So that’s why you live out here by yourself and act like a jerk so everyone will leave you alone.”

“That’s depressingly accurate.” He took another deep breath. “Or it was—before you showed up.”

“And now you have this random girl sleeping here, and working next to you, when all you wanted was to live out the rest of your life in secluded loneliness.”

“Yeah, so get the fuck out.”

I laughed. “Really, though, I don’t want to put a bunch of pressure on you, and under normal circumstances we could just… see where this goes. Like normal people would. But this isn’t exactly a normal situation, is it?”

“No, it’s not.”

“So what happens now?”

His whiskey-brown eyes watched me for a long moment. No brow furrow. No frustration or anger. His expression was as smooth as I’d ever seen it.

“Now you’re mine.”

The possessiveness in his tone gave me tingles. “I’m yours? It’s that simple?”

“It is for me.”

I’d never had someone say those words to me before. But the thought of belonging to Evan Bailey? I liked it. I liked it a lot.

“So I can keep my new plants?”

One corner of his mouth hooked in a smile. “Beautiful, you can fill the house with plants if it makes you happy. Just leave some space for my dog.”

“Done.” I gasped. “Eugenia!”

“What?”

“Blanche and Myra’s new friend. I couldn’t think of a name, but I think it’s Eugenia.”

“Of course it is. And the one in the office?”

“Edith.”

He looked at me like he was mystified. “Where the fuck did you come from?”

I shrugged one shoulder. “I just needed a place to fix my car.”

“You got a little more than that, didn’t you?”

I glanced at his dick. He wasn’t hard anymore, but he was still damned impressive. “I’d say I got a lot more. There’s nothing little about it.”

The corner of his mouth twitched in a smile. He rolled me onto my back, pinning his arms over my head, and kissed me.

You’re mine.

This was a lot. It was big, just like the man caressing my lips with his. And for the moment, any doubts I might have had faded into the background.

If this was what it meant to be Evan Bailey’s girl, sign me up.

28

Fiona

The sun was warm and the air was filled with the scent of blooming flowers and rich soil. Gram had the most amazing gardens I’d ever seen. Flowers, vegetables, fruits, berries. I came over to work outside with her at least once a week. Sometimes we chatted as we pulled weeds and tended to her chickens. Other times, we puttered around in comfortable silence.

A month ago, Evan Bailey had declared that I was his. And he’d certainly meant it.

Not that he’d changed. He was still serious and broody with a perpetual brow furrow. He still growled at things when he was frustrated. He was still rough around the edges. Still Evan.

But somehow I was the lucky girl who got to see the Evan he kept hidden on the inside.

That man was affectionate and devoted. He kissed me tenderly, fucked me mercilessly, and never missed an opportunity for an ass grab.

What he hadn’t said that day was that I wasn’t just his. He was mine.

I knew how special that was. Evan Bailey didn’t give his heart to just anyone. He guarded it fiercely, lest someone wound it again.

That someone was not going to be me.

I didn’t necessarily know what the future held for us. My bank account was recovering, but I hadn’t mentioned Iowa in weeks. The truth was, I already knew I wasn’t going to leave. Not unless something changed. If things crashed and burned with Evan, I’d have to reevaluate, but for now, I couldn’t imagine life without him.

So I didn’t.

Gram came over to where I’d been pulling weeds for the last half hour. “Why don’t we take a break? I made some iced tea.”

“That sounds perfect.”

I went inside to wash my hands, then joined Gram on the back porch. Her peckers clucked and scratched and the beautifully cultivated rows of her gardens stretched across the yard. Birds chirped and the creek trickled in the distance.

It was positively idyllic here.

“How’s my Wolf doing?” Gram asked.

“He’s busy. He’s working on a car for Chief Stanley, plus the Pontiac of course.” I nibbled on my lower lip. I spent more time with Gram than he did, and I wondered if that bothered her. “Maybe I should suggest

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