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But those eyes, they were exquisite. The spiral of colors was ringed with a bold circle of dark chocolate. And though the pattern was intriguing, what made them so heartbreaking were the demons beneath. There was no sparkle. No light. They were empty.
His black shirt was buttoned down to his wrists, covering the tattoos on his forearms. The one that ran behind his ear trailed down his neck before it disappeared under his collar. I wasn’t sure if he had any on his back, legs or chest, but each of his fingers had a different design. Ten small tattoos made of lines and dots, all situated across his knuckles.
“Here.” Isaiah fished two rings out of his jeans pocket. One was a simple band. Not gold or silver but a dark gray, like titanium. And the other was a thin platinum band with a halo of small diamonds in the center. My mouth fell open. “It’s not much.” Isaiah swallowed, embarrassment coloring his cheeks. “It’s beautiful.” I squeezed his hand, then took the ring. Beautiful was the truth. The diamonds weren’t huge, but I didn’t need huge. He’d already done enough. “Thank you.”
Isaiah was safe. No one in the world could make me tell them what had happened at that cabin in the mountains. Because now, I was his wife.
Genevieve was a force, one who had changed my life forever.
She put her hand on my knee. “Thank you.” I’d do it again, over and over if it meant saving her. “You’re welcome.”
“He makes me feel safe.”
“Doll?” Isaiah walked around the corner of the garage, saving me from Draven’s scrutiny. Doll? Oh, right. That was me. “Hey, baby.” Ugh.
The couch shifted as he sat by my side. His hand cupped my knee, but he didn’t speak. Isaiah was a man of few words, something I was learning. Mostly, he seemed to communicate with gestures so small, most people probably overlooked them.
Isaiah paused by the door. “What are you doing?” “I need to bake cookies. They’re our only hope.” He didn’t smile but the darkness in his eyes disappeared for a fraction of a second. “Save one for me?” For him, for what he’d done for me, I’d make cookies every day. Of course, I couldn’t say that. It was far too intimate and comforting for our fledgling marriage. Instead, I winked. “No promises.”
She giggled, covering her mouth with a hand as her cheeks turned pink. Her laughter gave life to the apartment. So did the cookies. Maybe this place would feel like a home with Genevieve here, not a box that bore an uncanny resemblance to a prison cell, minus the bars.
“Sorry.” We both turned to apologize. Our noses brushed. My gaze dropped to those glossy lips. All I had to do was lean in a fraction of an inch and capture them. One fast spin and I’d have her beneath me on the couch, her breasts heaving against my chest. The desire to kiss her sent me reeling backward, scrambling off the couch for the kitchen. I grabbed another cookie from the plate and shoved the entire thing in my mouth.
a woman so self-sufficient.
Genevieve was self-reliant, a woman who needed no confidant or companion. I suspected it was a new thing since her mother’s death. Amina had let her down, epically.
My eyes zeroed in on her long legs and I swallowed a groan. We’d been living together for weeks. Wasn’t it supposed to get easier? When would she stop being that beautiful woman naked in my shower and start being just . . . Genevieve? My roommate who happened to have my last name?
Genevieve’s sleeveless black dress molded to her torso and twirled around her hips as it floated to her toes. She stepped out of the salon and stole my breath. I had trouble paying attention to the wedding with her standing beside the altar.
She giggled, the sound shooting straight to my heart.
She dazzled. The first time I’d called her doll, it had been a slip. I’d figured a pet name like honey or sweetie would help convince people this was real. I’d planned on one of those. But doll had come out instead because she was flawless.
If watching Harry Potter movies lessened the sting for a few hours, I wouldn’t deny her. “Go ahead. I’ve never seen them.” “What?” She gaped. “You’re kidding.” “Nope.” “We’re watching them,” she declared. “And ordering pizza for dinner.” “Sounds good.”
“I can stand my ground.”
For us, it amplified an already complicated situation.
There was peace in the snow. A clean blanket, it erased the death of fall.
She thought I was a good man. I wasn’t. But damn, it was nice to feel worthy for a change. To be worthy of a woman like Genevieve was nothing short of a miracle.
Why count on people when they’d only disappoint? Or leave? Or die?
“Genevieve.” Isaiah’s voice was low, my name soft and gentle as it trickled off his tongue. No one spoke my name like Isaiah.
He pursed his lips. “Fine.” “Fine.” Fine was my word. I said it better anyway.
Isaiah hooked his finger under my chin. “Look at me.” He really did have pretty eyes. So sad, but so pretty.
People were more easily forgotten than anyone wanted to think, certainly about themselves.
He was kind and reserved and thoughtful.
I put my hands on her shoulders. “Proud of you.” “I’m glad it’s over.” She fell into my chest, sliding her hands around my back. When we hugged, it was normally her into my side. Front-to-front holds were chaste at best. This was lasting, like she needed to be here for a hug.
Genevieve fit against me, her soft curves molding to my stony lines. And she was warm. God, she was warm. I’d forgotten how it felt to hold a woman. To sink into a woman’s hug. I dropped a cheek to her hair, taking the comfort she was offering.
“Why?” If I got a tattoo, I’d want it to be special. Why would you get a tattoo and go through the pain if it didn’t mean anything? “Pain,” Isaiah whispered. “I wanted the pain.”
Isaiah didn’t laugh or give flashy smiles, but he’d show me a rare grin. There were never teeth visible and it was barely an upturn of his lips, but it stole my breath every time.
He’d grin whenever I had cookies out for him when he came up from the garage. He’d grin when I did his laundry. He’d grin on the nights when he’d come up and find some new purchase for the apartment.
Isaiah wasn’t mine to keep forever.
“Thank you for yesterday,” I whispered. “For what?” “For holding my hand. I don’t think I would have gotten through it if you hadn’t been there.”
“V.” He closed his eyes. V. No one had ever called me V. I loved it when Isaiah spoke my whole name. I loved the one letter even more.
He grinned. Isaiah Reynolds really was something. I smiled back and let the butterflies flutter in my stomach.
“What? You have to go with me. I need you there.” “You need me?” “Duh. We’re a team.”
Nothing in the world could have prepared me for Genevieve. She’d crept up on me, consuming more and more of my thoughts, day by day. And then she’d stolen my dreams.
I pressed a hand to her forehead. “You’re hot.” She gave me a little smile. “Is that why you were checking me out this morning?”
She nodded. “I’m glad we’re friends.” “Me too. Now sleep.” “You’re my best friend.”
“I’m glad we’re friends.” “Me too. Now sleep.” “You’re my best friend.” She spoke with her eyes closed, almost as if she were dreaming.
“Who’s your best friend?” she chattered on. “You,” I admitted.
Gah! Why? I was about to leap across the couch and strangle him with my bare hands until he surrendered and told me what had happened when I’d been sick.
Isaiah? I thought we’d learned to rely on one another.
A man who had to be Kaine stepped out. He held two boys in his arms, both squirming and waving and laughing. Kaine smiled.
Isaiah smiled. An actual, full smile, so stunning that tears flooded my eyes. The smile transformed Isaiah’s face. He looked years younger. He was a thousand times more beautiful.
They had the same eyes, only Kaine’s were happy and full of life. Whenever he’d spotted Piper from across the room last night, they’d brimmed with love. It was the same when he’d looked upon his boys.
“Koda!” Gabe laughed as he fell off the dog’s back. The loose snow puffed up around him. When I’d walked into Kaine and Piper’s place last night, I’d gasped at the dog trotting down the hallway to greet us. I’d sworn it was a wolf. Not a wolf, just a dog. Unless you asked the twins, who treated Koda more like a furry horse. The second Koda’s back was free, Robbie launched himself at the dog, scrambling to climb up. Koda sidestepped, causing Robbie to crash to the ground beside his brother. Then the dog licked their tiny faces, causing a fit of laughter that echoed through the trees.
