Someone to Watch Over Me

by Iris Morland

  “Rose, you don’t have to do anything tonight. It’s fine.”

  That only made her eyes flash. He should’ve known saying something like that would dare her not to give up on what she’d intended to do. Well, he might very well get burned, but was it worth it?

  When Rose slowly pulled his boxers down to reveal his cock, he knew the answer: absolutely fucking worth it.

  He’d never been this hard for a woman. He clenched his fists to keep himself from touching her. Because if he touched her, he’d carry her straight to his bedroom and be inside her in five seconds flat.

  “You’re huge,” she said with wide eyes, and her expression almost made him laugh again. And, yes, it also made his head swell—he was a guy, he couldn’t help it.

  She looked up at him again, licking her lips. “Tell me what you like. What I should do.”

  He tanged his fingers in her hair, but he didn’t press her. He knew that although he was receiving pleasure, this was almost more about her than it was about him.

  “Take my cock in your hand—at the base—and stroke me. Harder. You won’t break me, don’t worry.”

  Rose didn’t break eye contact as she moved her hand up, then down, then up again, in a rhythm that was slow but steady.

  “Twist your hand, too,” he said, and when she complied, he groaned. “Yeah, like that. Fuck, Rose, you’re driving me crazy.”

  She stroked him until he wanted to beg her to put him into her mouth, but as if sensing his thoughts, she swirled her tongue around the head of his cock. It was such a light touch that it only made things worse.

  God Almighty, he was going to come from just a quick hand job and nothing else. He’d never done that before, but he’d never been this aroused before, either.

  Rose took him into her mouth, taking more of him, as she twisted her hand around his cock as she stroked him. The combination of her tongue and her hand and the look in her eyes—the gleam in them that told him she knew she was driving him crazy—plus the feeling of her silky hair in his hand made it all too much.

  With a groan, he lifted her face away right as he started to come. His seed shot out in endless bursts, and he swore the entire time. His knees almost buckled.

  “Goddamn, Rose,” he said as he pulled her up. “Goddamn.” He kissed her, thrusting his tongue into her mouth like he wanted to thrust his cock inside her.

  She moaned and rubbed against him like a cat in heat. He deepened the kiss until everything else faded but the feel of her soft weight pressing against him.

  When he tugged on her hair—a light tug that he barely realized he’d done—she froze. He didn’t realize it for a long moment because she kept kissing him, yet the kiss began to fade away as she began to come back to herself.

  “No, stop,” she whispered. “Stop.”

  Her voice came to him slowly. It was like hearing someone call out in a tunnel when your eardrums had just been blown out by an explosion. It was rather like when he’d tried to listen for Max’s voice after the IED explosion.

  “Stop.” She pushed him.

  He let her go, and she stumbled away from him, breathing hard.

  “Rose? What is it?”

  He was reminded of a wild animal caught in snare right then: with her eyes wide, her breathing fast, her body trembling. He approached her with cautious steps, his hands up.

  “Rose,” he said more firmly, “what is it? Are you okay?”

  “No, no. I need to go. I need to—what have I done?” She choked back a sob; she slapped a hand to her mouth. “Oh my God, oh my God—”

  He tried to get her to stay still, but the second he put his hands on her, she turned wild. She pushed and writhed, her voice shaking, and he’d never been so confused and afraid and hurt as he was right then.

  “Talk to me. Baby, talk to me. You’re safe. It’s me—it’s Seth.”

  “Nooooo,” she moaned. She clutched her head and collapsed to the floor. She wrapped her arms around her knees.

  He didn’t touch her again. He waited, letting her panic slow down. After what seemed like an eternity, she seemed to return to herself, although she wouldn’t look at him.

  “I need to go.” She walked like a zombie to the front door without even looking at him. It was like he didn’t even exist anymore.

  His gut twisted. He reached out to touch her, but she wrenched her arm away. At his hurt look, tears filled her eyes.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry—just, I need to go. Please. Don’t come after me.”

  She darted away from him and out the door, and when he heard her front door open and then close, he rubbed a hand over his face.

  What the hell have I gotten myself into?

  12

  Rose saw Seth and his brothers sit down at a table in the back at The Fainting Goat, and she almost ran into Rebecca when she whirled around.

  “Whoa, watch out! I almost dropped my tray.” Rebecca glared as she pushed past her.

  Rose took a deep breath and forced her heart to slow. She owed Seth an explanation—and an apology. Again. This seemed to be her lot in life: want Seth, offend Seth, avoid Seth. Rinse, repeat ad infinitum.

  “DiMarco, you okay?” Ash Younger asked as he walked past her to Trent’s office. “You look like you saw a ghost.”

  She gave him a wan smile. “I’m fine. Sorry, I’ll get back to work.”

  She didn’t give a chance for Ash to ask more questions before she hurried into the kitchen, only to realize that there weren’t any orders to pick up. She loitered until the chef told her either to start cooking or go be productive.

  She checked on her tables, refilled water glasses, and made absolutely certain to avoid any glares directed her way via Seth Thornton. Considering she refused to look at him, she didn’t know if he was glaring. Maybe he was smiling. Maybe he wasn’t even looking her way at all.

  Oh God, what if he’d decided she wasn’t worth the trouble? She couldn’t blame him: she kept giving him so many mixed signals she was confused.

  As she rose from pouring a glass of water, her gaze collided with Seth’s. It was inevitable, like they were two magnets attracted to each other no matter how far away the other was.

  And Seth wasn’t smiling.

  He wasn’t glaring, either: he seemed speculative. Wary. He raised his glass to her, like an ironic salute.

  She gritted her teeth and hurried into the back.

  Her dreams had worsened since she’d been with Seth. Not because of what they’d done—which had been beautiful and wonderful and beyond her wildest imaginings—but because the universe seemed bent on not allowing her any respite from Johnny or what he’d done to her. She dreamed of times when she’d considered suicide to escape; she dreamed of when Johnny had toyed with her, acted like he cared about her.

  She dreamed of the times when Johnny would pull her hair, and she’d wake up, crying until she fell into an exhausted sleep.

  She dreamed that Johnny would have her in the end, no matter what she did.

  A cold sweat broke out on her forehead. Shivering, despite the warmth of the restaurant, she went to the ladies’ room to put herself back together.

  Gazing into the mirror, Rose saw a woman who looked wan and thin, with purple crescents under her eyes. When was the last time she’d felt content? Or safe? She didn’t know. Except when she was with Seth, she realized with a pang in her heart, she was barely holding it together.

  She brushed strands of hair from her forehead, and after redoing her lipstick, she exited the ladies’ room. Only to run into Seth, who stood in front of her like some muscular Great Wall of China.

  “It’s you,” she said, rather inanely. She felt her cheeks grow hot.

  “It’s me. I didn’t think I’d catch you tonight, you know, what with you refusing to even look at me.”

  She ducked under his arm. “I need to go back to work.”

  “You have a minute to talk.”

  She did, but he didn’t need to know that. When she saw the pain
in his eyes, though, she paused, her heart twisting. She hated that she’d hurt him. If she could take it back, if she could right the wrong she’d done—

  “Why do you keep running, Rose?” His voice was quiet, yet indomitable. He crossed his arms over his wide chest and waited.

  The words threatened to spill over like a flood after a rainstorm. Memories collided inside her mind, and suddenly, she felt very, very tired. What if she could lay her burdens on someone else for once? Someone strong like Seth?

  He has his own burdens. Don’t be selfish, Rose.

  “Look, I’ll explain everything to you, but not tonight.” At his implacable look, she put her palms up, entreating him. “I promise.”

  “Why do I feel like your promises are worth less than nothing lately?”

  She winced. It hurt, but she deserved that. “You’re right. But I can’t talk about this here.”

  Sighing, he pushed his fingers through his hair. “Fine. Tomorrow night? Or are you working?”

  “I get off by eight o’clock.”

  “Good. I’ll be home.”

  They stared at each other, and Rose felt the gulf between them widening. Swallowing, tears imminent, she walked away from him for what felt like the thousandth time.

  Throughout the rest of the evening, he didn’t try to get her attention. She noticed that he kept his back to her for the most part, although she heard him laugh and joke with his brothers. His brothers, for their part, shot him concerned glances every so often. Rose caught Caleb shaking his head at Harrison, and Harrison frowning into his beer.

  When Harrison saw her looking, she whirled away and flew back into the kitchen. She didn’t even care if she got reprimanded again for loitering. Better that than having the wrath of three Thornton brothers coming down on her head.

  But as fate would have it, Rose couldn’t avoid everyone related to Seth that night. Trent popped into the kitchen to steal some fries before the chef shooed him away. Trent grinned like a kid in a candy store.

  “Hey, did you see Ash?” he asked Rose offhandedly. “I need to talk to him.”

  “I saw him earlier. He’s probably in your office.”

  “Great. Thanks, Rose.”

  She followed him out, but then she found herself on the edges of a family reunion of sorts. Lizzie had Bea, and when Trent saw them, he kissed first his wife, then his daughter on their cheeks.

  “I thought you two were heading home?” Trent asked. “I’ll be done soon if you want to wait for me.”

  “Sure. We just stopped by to say hi to everyone.” She finally saw Rose standing there. “Oh, hey, Rose! How are you? Too bad you couldn’t come out for Caleb’s birthday. Heath said you were working.”

  Trent frowned. He opened his mouth, but then shut it just in time. Rose blushed to the roots of her hair: she’d completely lied about not being able to join the party. She just hadn’t had the guts to face all the Thorntons and their significant others in one go.

  She gave Lizzie a small wave. “Hi, nice to see you. I should get back to work—”

  Seth walked up toward the group, at first not noticing Rose at all. She almost slipped away, but right then, he turned his head. And their gazes met.

  Seth nodded at her; Rose froze, torn between running and trying to act like nothing was wrong.

  But as luck would have it, Bea would save the day. The baby started to fuss, and when she began to reach out for Seth, Lizzie laughed while Trent shook his head.

  “Does somebody want her uncle Seth? Here you go, sweetheart. She missed you.”

  Seth took his niece without hesitation, and Bea quieted almost instantly. She laid her head on his shoulder, her fist in her mouth as she looked on with those wide baby blue eyes.

  Rose’s heart melted. It completely melted into a puddle of goo, seeing a big soldier like Seth holding his tiny niece like that. He held her so gently, smiling down at her as he listened to Lizzie and Trent talk, and Rose wished she could give him a reason to smile like that.

  If she let herself, she could imagine—oh, all kinds of things. Being with Seth. Loving him. God, even marrying him. And what if, one day, she could place their baby in his arms?

  She wanted to cry. When she opened her eyes, she saw Seth watching her, and it was like he knew.

  “I should get back to work. It was nice seeing all of you,” Rose said. As she returned to the kitchen, she could feel Seth’s gaze on her shoulders the entire time.

  When Seth returned to the table that held his brothers, he felt their collective gazes on him. He drank his beer in silence. They’d acted like they’d wanted to say something all evening, but he wasn’t about to help them along.

  Lizzie and Trent had left to put Bea to bed, Lizzie whispering that Seth needed to “get his head out of his ass” before patting him on the back. Helpful, he thought. As if he were the one giving off a million mixed signals.

  As the youngest boy in the family, Seth had been known for pranks—along with Lizzie, his partner in crime—and getting whatever he wanted. Until Jubilee had come along.

  Now, Seth felt stupidly young, with his older brothers at turns frowning and then shaking their heads at him. It reminded him of the time he and Lizzie had put a box of toads in their seventh-grade teacher’s desk, and they’d been sent home with suspensions in hand. His parents had not been remotely thrilled when they’d gotten that phone call.

  Finally, Caleb broke the silence. He was the chattiest of the three, and Seth cursed Caleb for that particular skill right at that moment.

  “So, Seth,” Caleb drawled as he flicked a bit of a straw wrapper across the table. “What’s up with you?”

  Both Mark and Harrison rolled their eyes. Mark took a long drink of his beer while Harrison said, “What he means is: what’s going on with you and Rose?”

  “Hey, I was trying to be subtle,” said Caleb.

  Mark said, “You’re never subtle.”

  “Whatever. Seth, just answer the question. We’re dying to know.”

  “More like,” said Harrison, “we’re concerned. You haven’t been yourself lately.”

  Seth almost asked what they knew about him being himself, considering he’d been on three tours back-to-back for the majority of his twenties, but he drank his beer instead. He appreciated that his brothers cared. He just didn’t particularly want them to care about this subject.

  “Nothing’s going on,” Seth said, because it was sort of true. One step forward, two steps back: that was their relationship.

  “Bullshit.” Caleb pointed a finger at him. “We could see everything from over here. You two looked like you were about to climb all over each other right here in the bar.”

  Seth gaped at Caleb. “Seriously?” was his hoarse reply.

  Mark slapped him on the shoulder. “Seriously.”

  “Shit.” Seth put his face in his hands and swore again.

  “I know that brotherly advice isn’t really what you want right now,” said Harrison, “but hear us out. We’ve been there. Done that. If you have feelings for Rose, don’t give up. You’ll regret it if you do.”

  “What do I do if she confuses the hell out of me?” Seth shook his head. “It’s not that simple.”

  “It never is,” said Mark. “Women are complicated and we’re just their loyal servants. If you manage to find one who loves you—flaws and all—don’t let her go.”

  “Hear, hear,” said Caleb as he raised his glass.

  They all toasted to that, even Seth. Although at the mention of love, his stomach lurched. Was this love? Or the beginnings of it? God, he didn’t know. He knew he needed to protect Rose; he knew he wanted to hold her, kiss her, make her his. He wanted to know all her secrets, and God willing, she would know his.

  He winced inwardly at that. He’d told her about Max, but sometimes he wasn’t sure he was capable of love anymore. It was like war had deadened that part of his soul completely.

  He could make love to a woman; he could protect her. But love? Love was
something else entirely.

  The conversation turned, thankfully, and Seth listened to Caleb talk about Megan and how she kept wanting to redecorate their new house; how Mark’s prized mare had just given birth to another foal last week; how Harrison and Sara couldn’t agree on any baby names yet.

  “She likes old names, like Edith,” Harrison said with a laugh. “I asked her if we were having a baby or a grandma, and she refused to speak to me the rest of the afternoon.”

  “She’s the one having the thing. Let her choose the name,” said Caleb.

  “It’s his kid, too.” This from Mark. “You’ll land on something. If all else fails, name it Sara Jr.”

  They laughed, even Seth, although his mind was far away. It was still strange to see his siblings get married and have kids. When had they turned into such mature, responsible adults? Seth almost missed the days when their biggest worry had been whether or not they’d gotten a new Xbox for Christmas.

  “You know who you should name the baby after?” said Seth suddenly.

  Harrison raised an eyebrow.

  “Mom. She’d love you forever if you did.”

  That made them all groan, Harrison shaking his head with a laugh. They all loved their mother, Lisa, but they also knew very well that she loved to be involved in her children’s lives.

  “I’m surprised she hasn’t suggested it herself,” said Caleb.

  “She has,” Harrison deadpanned.

  Seth drank his beer. He’d heard all about how Lisa had tried to break up Harrison and Sara when they’d been dating. He hadn’t been surprised, but he had been surprised to see Lisa become somewhat subdued when Seth had returned from abroad.

  When the brothers said goodbye, Seth looked for Rose, but according to one of the waitresses, she’d already headed home.

  Of course she had. Hummingbirds were difficult creatures to catch.

  13