“What?” It was more of a squeak than an actual word, and I didn’t miss the twitch of Holt’s lips.
I scowled. “You have to be invited into someone’s home. Otherwise, you might end up arrested. Right, Law?”
Lawson’s eyes ping-ponged back and forth between the two of us. “I really don’t want to be in the middle of this. I’m gonna get my kit.” A second later, he was ducking his head and making a beeline for his SUV.
“Coward!” I yelled.
Holt snorted.
“Don’t laugh,” I snapped.
“Wren,” he said quietly in that same soft tone that always had me caving to whatever he wanted.
I bit the inside of my cheek and forced myself not to look away. Maybe that voice had made me weak-kneed in the past, but that wasn’t me anymore.
Holt moved in my direction, and Shadow stiffened. Holt seemed to sense it more than see and dropped to a crouch. He held out a hand for her to sniff.
Shadow stretched her neck so she could take a whiff. A second later, she was taking two steps in his direction. The second after that, his fingers were sifting through her fur.
Shadow leaned into his touch, seeking more of his attention. I couldn’t help but feel a little betrayed. Shadow was friendly, but she was also protective. On a night where she’d thought there was a threat to me, she shouldn’t have been anywhere but by my side.
Holt tipped his head back so he could meet my gaze. “I know I don’t deserve it. For a million different reasons. But let me stay anyway. I’ll leave first thing in the morning. I just don’t want you out here alone when someone’s been skulking around.”
I stared into those deep blue eyes I once thought I knew so well. “I’ve been out here alone for a long time.”
The flicker of movement was so tiny I would’ve missed it if I hadn’t been so attuned to everything about Holt. And that little hint of motion was nothing but pain.
“I know you have. I’m not trying to say you’re incapable of taking care of yourself, just that sometimes it’s nice for someone to have your back.”
I’d always loved that about Holt. He was on my team first. Always. My number one fan and star pitching coach. It was one of the things I’d missed the most when he left—the feeling of not being alone in the difficulties that life could bring.
Part of me wanted to rake him over the coals for even asking. To take whatever knife he’d plunged into his chest and push it deeper. Know that he was hurting the way I was.
But when I looked into the face I’d known for all my life, I couldn’t do it. Because I saw the lines that grief had carved into his features.
Holt’s gaze shifted to my dog as he continued scratching her head. “I’d never be able to live with myself if something happened to you.”
But something had happened to me. And it wasn’t the bullet that had done the most damage; it was the aftermath. That had destroyed us both.
As I stared at Holt, I wondered if it had been even worse for him than it had been for me. I cursed myself to high heaven as my resolve wavered. Because as angry at him as I was, I couldn’t stop myself from caring. From wanting to soothe those hurts and ease his burdens.
“One night.”
Holt’s eyes flew back to me. “One night.”
I snapped my fingers, motioning for Shadow to follow me. She hesitated for a second and then obeyed. “I’m going to go make sure the guest room’s made up.”
It was. I’d changed the sheets the last time Grae had slept over after our movie night. But I needed distance. Had to breathe.
I hurried inside, ducking into the guest room the first moment I could. My legs shook as I lowered myself to the bed. “What did I do?”
I’d sat in this house less than an hour ago, telling Grae that I couldn’t have this man in my life. And here I was, telling him he could stay the night?
Shadow pushed her head into my hand.
“Like you were any help. Just throw yourself at him, why don’t you?”
She huffed out a breath and licked my palm.
I focused on my breathing. In for two. Out for two.
I could handle anything for one night. I wouldn’t even know he was here. And by morning, Holt would be gone.
A deep ache settled in my chest at the thought.
“Nope. Nope. Nope.” I pushed to my feet. “Come on.” I moved around the room like a drill sergeant, checking the barracks—sheets clean and perfectly tucked in, a comforter covering the bed, and one of my grandmother’s quilts at the foot of it.
As my fingers ghosted over the patchwork blanket, I could hear her voice in my head. “I know it hurts, Birdie. And you’ve got a right to that pain. But think how much he must have cut himself when he walked away from you. Now, he’s out there alone, half a world away, with nothing but ghosts to keep him company.”
I’d never believed her that he’d felt the sting of walking away. But I saw it now.
He lived with that pain every single day. That didn’t erase what he’d done, though. To me. To us. But I didn’t feel quite so alone.
As I stared down at the puzzle of colors that my grandmother had pieced together by hand, a little more of my anger bled away. I made a half-hearted attempt to hold onto it. That anger made it easier not to feel the hurt quite so deeply.
If I could distract myself by being pissed off, the longing for what might have been couldn’t take me out at the knees. But I’d have to let it. Because I couldn’t look into those haunted blue eyes and make Holt feel worse.
A knock sounded on my front door, and then it opened.
“Wren,” Lawson called, stepping inside.
I moved to the entryway, Shadow on my heels. “Get everything you needed?”
Lawson nodded. “Dusted the windowsill for prints, too, but didn’t get anything.” He glanced toward the vehicles. “Holt said you were okay with him staying.”
“Okay might be a stretch.”
“I can make him leave,” Lawson said. “You don’t have to deal with him.”
I felt a twisting sensation somewhere deep. “I can’t put him through that.”
Lawson stared at me for a moment. “I’ve never known two people who loved each other more. Not even my parents. The way you two always were around each other… Like you could sense where the other was at all times and if they needed something,”—he took a breath—“you were giving it to the other before anyone else could blink.”
“Law,” I croaked.
“I’m not saying you need to run off and get married, but it seems a shame that you can’t at least figure out a way to be friends. That kind of care. Seems like you should at least find your way back to that.”
Footsteps sounded on the walkway, and my gaze lifted to dark blue eyes. Holt had a duffel bag slung over one shoulder as he moved toward us. I drank in everything about him as he moved.
Took in the way his white tee clung to his chest muscles, how his dark-wash jeans hugged his hips and thighs, and the way the scruff along his jaw made my fingers itch to feel the prickle of it.
No. There was no chance I could find my way to friendship with Holt. Because he still set my blood on fire.
