She wasn’t sure how to finish that thought.
She pulled in a shaky breath before exiting the car, wrapping her arms around herself. It didn’t get all that cold, but October was the month the temperature dropped. It made her recall where she’d come from, where the snow would pile high on the sidewalks and coat the trees.
Out here, snow only fell once a year—maybe—and it all melted by noon. Still, something about the browns in the landscape had called to her, and after meeting up with Beth, the woman who had run the shelter, the one who had offered to help her, she’d fallen in love with the town.
Sunny realized she hadn’t moved a foot. She’d reminisced as a way to buy time, to stand there, shivering, not having to go closer.
Stop being a coward.
The words didn’t get her moving, but her own courage did. She put one foot in front of the other, making it halfway through the parking lot before another bout of crippling anxiety hit her. It was like those shows where a person goes up to pet an alligator. The closer she got to the beast, the less her body wanted to move.
“You’ll catch a cold out here.” Connor’s deep, dark voice didn’t frighten her the way she expected it to. It felt like sipping whiskey, and she would have sworn it stole her senses just as well.
“I thought you guys said you wouldn’t come out.”
“Garrison said that,” he pointed out. “Besides, I’m not here to talk you into coming in.”
“Then why?”
A jacket came to rest over her shoulders, the interior warm, telling her he’d had it on a moment before. “It’s too cold out here, even for foxes.”
“I’m not dressed as a fox.”
“You’re always a fox,” he said, affection in his tone.
Sunny pulled the jacket around her tighter, her legs still freezing, but grateful her arms were warm. “Any chance you could just order me in?”
He shook his head, his black shirt less faded than his others had been, as if he’d dressed up for the night. “Not how it works, darlin’.” He caught her chin, tipping her face up toward his. “But if you come in, I can promise I’ll have a lot of orders for you.”
She thought he’d lean in, that he’d brush his lips to hers, but he didn’t. He ran his thumb across her bottom lip then pulled back. “It’s up to you. That’s at the root of what you’ve got to learn. You make the choice if you want to play or not, if you want someone or not.”
Sunny’s past sat at the edges of her mind, like something prowling behind bars, waiting for her to venture too close. So many horrific memories, and so much of what was inside that club that reminded her of it.
But she’dgrown, damn it. When she’d gotten to this little town, she’d been a mess. She hadn’t been able to go outside by herself, let alone to stores, to meet people, to be around anyone. Now she was stronger, better.
She lived her life, other people be damned, and it hadn’t ever been easy.
There was a time when the space outside her front door had been as scary to her as this club was now.
But she’d lifted her chin and she’d faced it all until it no longer frightened her.
Sunny drew her hands into fists before she straightened her back, lifted her chin, and walked toward the front door.
“Brave girl,” Connor rumbled from behind her, and even if she didn’t feel like it at the moment, she agreed.
Garrison offered Connor a glare when he walked in on Sunny’s heels. It had been hell for Garrison to wait inside, to give Sunny the time to make the choice, but he’d done it.
Still, judging from the jacket around the girl, Garrison couldn’t entirely blame Connor.
Sunny and Connor stopped in the entry way to check in. The receptionist held up a club cuff, but Connor shook his head. The corners of Sunny’s lips tipped down, showing that spark of fear she had, but she overcame it quickly enough.
That was the thing about her…
If she’d been a few years closer to her ordeal, Garrison would have never considered such a thing. He’d worked with the shelter long enough to know the women needed time to start healing, to find their own feet again. Rushing in too early was a recipe for heartache for all involved.
Sunny might slip up sometimes—and really, who could blame her?—but she’d clearly put in the work. He couldseeher using the techniques to calm down, to take control of her emotions, to think through her fears—at least most of the time. The memory of the call, of when she’d said ‘Dom’ that time, all said her control wasn’t quite perfect.
She moved through the crowds with Connor just behind her.