“Get out of here,” Maisy says. “And don’t ever come near me again, or I’ll file a restraining order for harassment.”
Blake looks between both of us standing side by side and mumbles, “Screw this.”
Then he leaves us alone in front of the restaurant in the fading twilight. I turn back to her, unsure of what I should do or say. It’s unlike me. I swallow as my head fully empties for the first time in a long time. She looks beautiful tonight, her soft light brown hair framing her face and skimming the bare skin of her shoulders. My fingers twitch with the urge to reach out and thread through her hair.
“Next time, you need to leave it to me.”
I blink out of my stupor. “Not happening.”
Her lips purse and she cr
osses her arms. “Yes it is. I don’t want you to fight my battles for me. I appreciate the help, and the…” She trails off as a flush creeps into her cheeks. Coughing, she darts her gaze away, brushing her fingers over her leather bracelet. “The thing you did. Not that I think violence is the answer, even though I decked him. I mean, he deserved it by that point,” she hastily tacks on, throat working as her lashes lower. “But I don’t need a man to save me, you feel me? I can stand up for myself.”
Fuck me. A rush of heat races through my body. Maisy is turned on by what I did to him. I drag my teeth over my lower lip and file that away to fantasize about later—the only way I’ll let myself have her. In my fantasies, I don’t run the risk of her betraying my trust.
“Let’s get one thing straight here.” I step close enough that the soft material of her dress brushes against my chest. Grasping her chin between my thumb and finger, I tilt her face up. “I have no problem with a woman fighting her own battles, but don’t expect me to stand idly by if I’m around. Either I show you how to protect yourself, or I do it for you. Like I said, you’re my problem. So if someone threatens you, I will step in to take care of it.”
Her hazel eyes are luminescent, almost gold in the amber glow the restaurant casts off. Her breathing turns shallow and her pupils dilate at my dominant tone. For a beat, she looks at my mouth with so much longing, all I want to do is crash my lips against hers.
“Even if the threat is you?” Her voice is soft and alluring, but her eyes harden when I begin to close the small distance between us to claim her mouth. “Or do you not count in taking responsibility for your actions because of double standards? That would undermine every sexy word that came out of your mouth.”
Well, shit. She’s got me there.
“You’re right,” I rasp, caressing her bottom lip with my thumb.
Now that she’s safe, I can walk away. I need to, before I slide further down the treacherous slope and do something stupid again, like kissing her within an inch of her life.
“Maisy.”
We both turn at the sound of Jacqueline Landry’s bitchy tone. Her parents stand outside the restaurant’s doors. It’s the first time I’ve come face to face with them directly since I moved back to Ridgeview.
I don’t release Maisy right away, fighting against another wave of possessiveness. It’s stronger this time, latching onto me and making me want to never let her go. Richard Landry looks about ready to pop a blood vessel at the sight of his precious daughter standing so close to me, and his wife actually looks annoyed she didn’t plot to make sure I was in the car with my parents that night so she could’ve avoided this moment. Maisy tenses, grasping my shirt in her fist as a tremor runs down her spine. What was once a simple revenge plan has gotten complicated by what I feel for her.
She presses gently against my chest and steps away from me. My hand falls to my side, chest burning with an acute tightness.
“Where is Sam?” Jaqueline demands in an icy voice, because asking anything is beneath her.
“He had to leave,” Maisy says. Lowering her voice so only I can hear, she adds, “Crying shame.”
I snort.
“You’ve been out here too long and you left before the entrees were served,” Jacqueline says. “People inside started to take notice.”
Maisy shrugs. “Sorry. I’m not that hungry now.”
Jaqueline’s detached gaze flicks to me for a moment. It’s hard to believe those eyes are the same color as Maisy’s, which are full of life. “Then I guess you don’t feel like going on your trip.”
Maisy bristles beside me. I take a step, but she shoots a hand out to stop me.
“Don’t,” she murmurs. “I have to take on this fight for myself, too.”
I look back to Jacqueline and Richard. The coldness in her eyes is awful. I remember when she would buy us ice cream, and the time she drove us to the aquarium for a class trip when my parents were out of town. She used to look at me with the same fondness as she had for her own children, like I was another son to her. The malicious way she looks at me now harbors no warmth, like if I say something she doesn’t like she won’t hesitate to end me if it threatened her greed.
Meeting her gaze, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt this is who took my family from me.
Eighteen
Maisy