Read Online Break for Me by Shiloh Walker - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Shiloh Walker
Ads: Link
her tongue. I need to do something. She didn’t know what. Move. Get up. Think. But before any of those words made it
to her mouth, he placed one hand on her scalp and gently started to massage. All thoughts
of moving or thinking fled as he worked some form of magic on her.
Groaning, she felt herself going limp.
Time faded away and bit by bit, the pain in her head eased back. Outside, the rain
continued to pound down around them, wrapping around them. There was no light on and
she thought she could just lose herself, right there, to the feel of his hand, stroking
the pain away, and the sound of the rain outside.
“Better?” he murmured.
“Yeah.”
He brushed her hair back and she dragged her lashes up to stare at him. “Sorry to
fall apart on you like that.”
“Don’t say that,” he said, shaking his head. He stroked his thumb over her lower lip
and that light contact sent shivers through her. “If you need me, for anything, I’m
here and I don’t want you to be sorry.”
Something hot unfurled in her belly and she wondered what he’d say if she sat up and
draped herself across him. All of a sudden, the idea of being exposed to him wasn’t
as scary as it had been.
Maybe she shouldn’t think about being exposed . She should just think about nothing. Think about forgetting. If anybody could help
her lose herself for a while, it would be him. But … hell. That wasn’t really fair.
Not to him.
Slowly, she sat up and although sanity tried to insist she move away, she ended up
curled against his side and when he wrapped his arm around her, she couldn’t help
but think how utterly right that felt.
Everything with him felt completely and utterly right, now that she’d let herself stop running.
The knot of heat in her belly expanded and she bit her lip, looking around the room,
all but desperate for a distraction.
Her gaze landed on the small collection of pictures sitting on top of his entertainment
center. She saw one of him with his parents; she’d met them a couple of times. He
had barbecues a few times a year and they always came, along with his brothers, a
sister, and an almost scary number of cousins, aunts, uncles, and nieces and nephews.
There were pictures of him with the family, his siblings. Some of the faces were vaguely
familiar. She tended to memorize faces that she saw around her street—there was no
turning off the cop, she’d learned.
Her eyes focused on the one of a child. A young girl. Maybe five. She didn’t remember
seeing the girl before, but she was adorable. That smile …
That smile . Slowly, she sat up, staring at that picture.
“Who is she?”
He was quiet for so long, Jensen wondered if he’d answer. Turning her head, she looked
at him, but he wasn’t looking at her. His gaze was on the little girl in the picture.
The girl with his smile.
“That’s Amaya.” He looked down, a sigh escaping his lips before he turned his head
and met her gaze. “My daughter.”
“I didn’t … I didn’t know you had a daughter,” she said, forcing the words out.
He reached up, touching something under his shirt. She recognized the gesture. It
was the same one she made when she was thinking about her mom. The little silver pendant
she wore was the last gift she’d gotten from her mom, a present for her twelfth birthday.
She never went anywhere without it.
Dean’s eyes were sad as he looked at her. “She died just a few weeks before she would
have started kindergarten.”
* * *
How did he even start to explain this?
Slowly, feeling like he’d aged twenty years in the past twenty seconds, Dean straightened
on the couch, bracing his elbows on his knees as he stared at Amaya’s picture.
“Her mom and I weren’t married,” he said slowly. “We met in law school.” He slid her
a look from the corner of his eye, grinned a little. “I caused her a hell of a lot
of trouble. She was an adjunct
to her mouth, he placed one hand on her scalp and gently started to massage. All thoughts
of moving or thinking fled as he worked some form of magic on her.
Groaning, she felt herself going limp.
Time faded away and bit by bit, the pain in her head eased back. Outside, the rain
continued to pound down around them, wrapping around them. There was no light on and
she thought she could just lose herself, right there, to the feel of his hand, stroking
the pain away, and the sound of the rain outside.
“Better?” he murmured.
“Yeah.”
He brushed her hair back and she dragged her lashes up to stare at him. “Sorry to
fall apart on you like that.”
“Don’t say that,” he said, shaking his head. He stroked his thumb over her lower lip
and that light contact sent shivers through her. “If you need me, for anything, I’m
here and I don’t want you to be sorry.”
Something hot unfurled in her belly and she wondered what he’d say if she sat up and
draped herself across him. All of a sudden, the idea of being exposed to him wasn’t
as scary as it had been.
Maybe she shouldn’t think about being exposed . She should just think about nothing. Think about forgetting. If anybody could help
her lose herself for a while, it would be him. But … hell. That wasn’t really fair.
Not to him.
Slowly, she sat up and although sanity tried to insist she move away, she ended up
curled against his side and when he wrapped his arm around her, she couldn’t help
but think how utterly right that felt.
Everything with him felt completely and utterly right, now that she’d let herself stop running.
The knot of heat in her belly expanded and she bit her lip, looking around the room,
all but desperate for a distraction.
Her gaze landed on the small collection of pictures sitting on top of his entertainment
center. She saw one of him with his parents; she’d met them a couple of times. He
had barbecues a few times a year and they always came, along with his brothers, a
sister, and an almost scary number of cousins, aunts, uncles, and nieces and nephews.
There were pictures of him with the family, his siblings. Some of the faces were vaguely
familiar. She tended to memorize faces that she saw around her street—there was no
turning off the cop, she’d learned.
Her eyes focused on the one of a child. A young girl. Maybe five. She didn’t remember
seeing the girl before, but she was adorable. That smile …
That smile . Slowly, she sat up, staring at that picture.
“Who is she?”
He was quiet for so long, Jensen wondered if he’d answer. Turning her head, she looked
at him, but he wasn’t looking at her. His gaze was on the little girl in the picture.
The girl with his smile.
“That’s Amaya.” He looked down, a sigh escaping his lips before he turned his head
and met her gaze. “My daughter.”
“I didn’t … I didn’t know you had a daughter,” she said, forcing the words out.
He reached up, touching something under his shirt. She recognized the gesture. It
was the same one she made when she was thinking about her mom. The little silver pendant
she wore was the last gift she’d gotten from her mom, a present for her twelfth birthday.
She never went anywhere without it.
Dean’s eyes were sad as he looked at her. “She died just a few weeks before she would
have started kindergarten.”
* * *
How did he even start to explain this?
Slowly, feeling like he’d aged twenty years in the past twenty seconds, Dean straightened
on the couch, bracing his elbows on his knees as he stared at Amaya’s picture.
“Her mom and I weren’t married,” he said slowly. “We met in law school.” He slid her
a look from the corner of his eye, grinned a little. “I caused her a hell of a lot
of trouble. She was an adjunct
Similar Books
