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“You’re a Malone, huh?” the cop said disapprovingly.

“That a problem?” Butch challenged, standing.

She saw the cop take in the visible tattoos, his large stature. She wasn’t sure exactly what he thought of Butch, but it didn’t seem good.

But he nodded. “No issue. I was just talking to Ms. Matheson about where she’ll stay tonight.”

“She’s coming home with me.”

I am?

To his place? Is that smart?

Well, it seemed a much better idea than staying here. And she definitely wasn’t going to stay with her mom, which was really her only other choice.

She shuddered.

Yeah, she’d take staying with Butch over those options.

“That okay with you, Ms. Matheson?” the cop asked.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Good girl,” Butch told her.

Damn. Even though she was feeling almost numb from exhaustion that still sent a shiver of need through her.

She just wanted Butch to wrap himself around her and keep her safe.

You need to be strong, Lara.

Relying on someone isn’t a smart idea.

“Can I get some of my things?” she asked the officer. There was only one thing she truly wanted and that was her scrapbook of memories.

“Yes, I’ll escort you back. I’ll give you my card and if you think of anything else, let me know.”

12

Butch gave Lara a concerned look as he drove them back to the ranch. She was sitting still and silent in the front passenger seat.

Which wasn’t like her at all.

She was usually so animated. And she liked to talk. He’d have thought that would annoy him since he wasn’t fond of talking much himself.

But he found himself missing her rambling.

And its absence worried him. Her guitar was sitting in the backseat and her bag was on her lap.

It turns out she hadn’t had all that much stuff to collect.

That made him furious at her ex. Both of them. Assholes.

Something else was irritating him.

She hadn’t called.

He’d told her to call if anything happened, and he’d had to hear about what happened from fucking James. Thank God he’d paid the motel owner to contact him if anything happened to her.

What would have happened if that guy had gotten hold of her? Those doors were flimsy as fuck. He could have easily hurt her.

And he hadn’t been there to protect her.

He tightened his hands on the steering wheel, barely holding in his growl. What she didn’t need right now was for him to scold her. She needed comfort. How the heck did he do that, though?

“Whose pajamas are those?” he asked.

Fuck.

That wasn’t what he’d meant to stay. Things weren’t off to a good start. Was he really upset because she was wearing men’s pajamas?

“What?” She turned to look at him.

“Doesn’t matter. Ignore me. You okay, baby?”

Dumb ass. Of course she’s not.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” she replied.

He hated that she was lying to him. He wanted to demand that she never lie to him. But he’d learned from being around her that she didn’t like being a hassle. And that she’d often underplay how she was feeling so as not to bother anyone.

“I know you’re not.”

“I am,” she whispered. “I’m just . . . I don’t know. Why would he come after me? How would he know where I was staying? And if it wasn’t that guy from the other day then who? I don’t know what I could have done to make someone that angry at me.”

“Nothing,” he said harshly. He took a calming breath as she jumped in surprise. He wasn’t doing that well at this comforting thing.

Asshole.

“There’s nothing you would have done to cause someone to do that. To come after you, intending to harm you. That’s all on him.”

She turned away, and he wondered if he’d said something wrong. Then he heard her sniffle.

And his heart cracked.

He turned into the driveway for the Lonely Horse Ranch and stopped his truck, putting it in park before undoing his belt and then hers.

“Where are we?”

“This is where I live.”

She peered around. “In a house?”

“Yeah, baby. There’s a house at the end of the driveway. Although I currently live in the bunkhouse. Come here.” He lifted her over the middle console, straight onto his lap.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Holding you.” He wrapped his arms around her.

“Why?”

“Because you need comfort. And I need to give you what you need.”

She buried her face into his chest. “You don’t have to.”

“You need to learn to accept what people want to give you, baby girl.” He ran his hand up and down her back so she knew he wasn’t too upset with her.

“I’ve learned that people are only ever kind when they want something from me.”

Fuck. He hated that for her.

And he wanted to know who had taught her that lesson. So he could find them and teach them not to take from this sweet, kind woman.

“Some people might be like that. But I’m not.”

“You’re the first person to be kind to me in a long time. I have friends back home who helped me when I needed it. But they eventually got sick of me. I’m a lot.”


Tags: Laylah Roberts Erotic