“Very much.”
Ouch.
It was then that I realized I was jealous. Over a ghost.
Maybe it was the fact that there was an abundance of photos of this particular ghost around the house, or maybe it was that she was gorgeous in gleaming light way, but if I were being completely honest, it was that while their wedding photo sat up on the mantle, our wedding frame remained empty and every time I passed it, a bitter taste filled my mouth.
I always knew I wouldn’t be anybody’s first choice, but right then, I couldn’t help but feel second best.
Lost in distracting thoughts, my eyes fluttered when honesty hour kicked off and he asked, “It was your sister, wasn’t it?” My eyes met his when he elaborated. “She wanted me dead, she put you up to it and you did it because it’s better to be the right hand of the devil than stuck in his path.” Ashamed, I closed my eyes, refusing to look at him when he sighed then said, “I had my suspicions, but some of the things she said that night confirmed it.”
When I scooched forward and all but fell into his lap, facing him, he didn’t stop me from undoing the buttons of his shirt and parting the white silk until it was there, right in front of my eyes. The scar was fading and had since turned a lighter shade of pink, but no matter how much it healed, I would always remember the gaping wound spilling out with blood and knowing I had caused it.
My heart ached. I leant in and softly pressed my lips to the reminder of the tragedy I’d almost caused.
It was barely a whisper. “I’m sorry.”
He took in a shuddering breath when I kissed it slowly in apology, over and over again, and when his arms snaked around my middle, pulling me close, I teetered over the edge of the cliff as this brash man comforted me for my own faults and failings.
I was tipped over the edge when he turned my head to the side, forcing me to look at him, looked me dead in the eyes and uttered, “If all I had to do was take a bullet to deserve you, empty the fucking clip in me.”
Oh God.
OhGod.
He said it so casually, as if he hadn’t just reached into my chest and plucked out my heart.
My lips began to tremble and my vision blurred. I hadn’t meant to say it out loud but it croaked out of me, “I think I’m in love with you.”
Tor’s eyes flashed. His lips captured mine in a harsh and demanding kiss that was utterly cleansing. Eventually, the kiss gentled and slowed, and when he bussed my lips with his, he pulled back enough to say, “About fucking time.”
I sniffled and smiled into his lips, although it shook.
I’d never been in love before. It was a strange mixture of warmth and affection, of tenderness and care, but it was also raw and painful, and somewhere below all of those sparkling feelings was cold, anxious dread. Because I couldn’t lose this. I couldn’t lose him.
Not after I just got him.
* * *
Weeks passedand I hadn’t seen or spoke to my sister. Instead, I focused on this family and found that I loved being a step-mother. That emptiness I felt the day I left my uncles house meant I had room in me for more, a space to fill in my heart and these kids filled it, effortlessly.
Even when Ella glared at me and left the room, leaving me feeling like a piece of trash.
I watched her leave and my stomach twisted. “What am I doing wrong?”
Tor read the paper at the table and didn’t even bother to look at me when he responded, “It would seem you are repeatedly doing something that she’s taking offence to.”
“Like what?”
“Like breathing.”
My lips pulled down and, this guy with the dad jokes. He looked supremely happy with himself when I picked up an oven mitt and threw it at him. “Oh, haha, wise guy.”
I knew it was going to be hard. Ella was a tough nut to crack. But I vowed it right then.
I would win her over.
* * *