“Fuck,” Kenton rumbles, pulling me closer to him. Feeling the strength in his arms gives me the courage to continue.

“A little boy was Life-Flighted in tonight.” I close my eyes, seeing the child in my head. “When I saw him, all I could think about was my son, who would be close in age to him.” I open my eyes and tilt my head back to look up at Kenton. I can barely make out his image with the moonlight shining through the window. “Sometimes when I’m out and I see a little boy, I wonder if it could be him. Logically, I know it’s not, but my heart still hasn’t accepted that he’s lost to me after all these years and I will never see him again.”

“I can’t imagine that’s something easy to accept,” he says softly, running a hand down my back. “Why didn’t your boyfriend help you find a way to keep your son?”

“He didn’t want me or a child. When I told him I was pregnant, he told me he didn’t want to have a kid and he was breaking up with me.” I cry a little harder, reliving the devastation I felt back then. “He was happy when my mom contacted him, telling him that she was forcing me to put the baby up for adoption and he needed to sign the papers.”

“That’s f**ked up, baby.”

“I know,” I whisper.

There is nothing else to say. Kenton now knows some of my past—really, the worst of it—and I wonder what he’s thinking about as he holds me until I cry myself to sleep.

I wake up feeling cocooned in warmth. It takes a few seconds for last night to come back to me and to remember that I willingly climbed into bed with Kenton. I can only imagine what he thinks of me now. I try to lift my head, hoping I can sneak away from him, but his giant hand is wrapped around my hair, holding me in place. Between that and his leg over mine, I can’t move at all.

“You’re not sneaking out on me.” His voice is gravelly with sleep, and I close my eyes, trying to think of what I need to say.

“I’m sorry about laying all that stuff on you last night.” I hide my face in his chest.

“I’m glad you came to me. I’m sorry about your son. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through.” He takes a breath, pulling me closer to him. “If you want, I can find him for you.”

“What?” I ask, caught off guard.

“It’s what I do, baby,” he says completely seriously, and my heart does a double thump at the sweet offer.

“It was a closed adoption,” I whisper, tears filling my eyes again.

“Doesn’t matter.” He shrugs.

“What do you mean?”

“I have ways of finding people. You say the word and I’ll find your boy for you.”

The building tears begin to fall as I think about finding my son. Then I wonder what I would even do with the information. Would it hurt more knowing where he is? Could I even handle it?

“I don’t know,” I mumble. “I would like to know if he’s happy, but I don’t know if I could handle seeing him or knowing where he is.”

“I get that.” He gives me a gentle squeeze. “You don’t need to decide right now. The offer has no time limit on it.”

“Thank you.” I unconsciously rub my face against his chest, breathing in his unique smell. His warmth and smell have me wanting to get even closer to him.

His hand in my hair pulls my head back as the leg he has over mine moves to between my legs. His eyes search my face for a long moment before his face lowers and his mouth gently touches mine.

“I can’t get enough of your mouth,” he says against my lips, kissing me again. The hand I’m resting between us starts to inch towards his torso, but I stop myself. “Touch me,” he says, grabbing my hand and pulling it to his chest.

His skin is so warm, and the light scattering of hair he has on his chest prickles against my fingers. His hand on top of mine moves to my hip then down the curve of my ass, pulling my h*ps closer to his. I can feel his erection hard and long between us. I start to breathe heavily; I feel like I can’t get enough oxygen into my lungs. My hand on his chest travels up to his hair at the back of his head, running it through my fingers as his mouth travels from mine, down my cheek, and then across my neck, the scruff on his jaw scraping against my sensitive skin.

“Jesus, you smell good,” he rumbles against my throat as his tongue touches me there. I tilt my head farther back, pressing my thighs together, trying to alleviate the ache that is building between my legs. “Shit,” he groans.

My eyes open and I look at his face, wondering why he’s stopping, and then I hear his phone ringing.

“Don’t lose that look,” he orders as he quickly twists his upper body away from mine before turning back over, holding his phone in his hand. His eyebrows go together and he shakes his head, sliding his finger across the screen. “This better be f**king good,” he growls, looking at me. His eyes narrow on me when I hear Justin’s voice say something about pulling the stick out of his ass, making me smile. “Do not f**king encourage him,” he says, shaking his head when I laugh harder after hearing Justin yell through the speaker that Kenton stole me away from him and he’s going to find a way to win me back.

“Did you call for a f**king reason, or are you just callin’ to piss me off?”

I can’t hear Justin’s response, but I can tell that Kenton doesn’t like it by the look that comes over his face as he listens.

“Fuck,” he clips, dropping his head. “Yeah, I’ll be there soon.” He pulls the phone away from his ear before dropping it to the bed next to my head. “I gotta head out.”

“Okay.” I bite my lip, wondering what I’m supposed to do. This whole thing feels surreal to me. I don’t know if I want to kiss him again or run away and pretend like nothing happened.

“You gonna be okay?”

His question hits my chest and I feel my face go soft at his concern for me. “I’ll be okay,” I assure him quietly.

“You workin’ tonight?”

“Yeah. I feel bad about what happened last night and leaving early. I don’t want them to think I’m flighty. I really like working there,” I say, absently rubbing the sheet between my fingers.

“Did you talk to Tara last night?” I nod yes and his fingers run over my cheek. “You’re good then. That bitch is crazy. She would never let them think less of you.”

“Don’t call her a bitch,” I say defensively.

“I mean ‘bitch’ in the nicest way possible.” He smiles, dropping his face towards mine.

As soon as our lips touch, his hand goes to the back of my head, holding me to him while controlling the kiss. When he pulls his mouth from mine, I can’t help the whimper that escapes.

“When’s your next day off?” he asks through heavily panted breaths.

“The day after tomorrow,” I reply just as breathlessly.

“I’m taking you out.”

“Like a date?”

“Exactly like a date.”

“Um…” I say, not knowing how to respond.

“It’s not up for debate. We’re going out.”

“Excuse me?” I narrow my eyes. “You need to ask me if I would like to go out with you.” No way am I going to let him boss me around.

He rolls until I’m on my back and one of his legs is between mine. His hands capture mine, bringing them above my head. Then he bends his head and whispers into my ear, “Autumn, will you have dinner with me?”

“Maybe.” I smile when he growls against the skin of my neck.

“Please?” he asks, his tongue snaking out to touch my sensitive flesh.

My body arches back. Having him cover me is doing crazy things to my body. I don’t know if I want to pull him closer or push him away only to climb on top of him. My hands run down his back, feeling his smooth skin under my fingers.

“So, what do you say?” he asks, his hand running down my bare thigh.

“What?”

I feel the vibration of his laughter before he pulls away so I can see his face. “What’s your answer? Am I taking you willingly, or do I need to force you?”

My eyes drop to his mouth and he smiles. “I guess I could suffer through a date with you. Who am I to pass up free food?” I ask with a straight face.

His hands go to my sides and he starts to tickle me. I have never been tickled before and it catches me off guard, making me scream in horror.

When he realizes that I’m not shrieking playfully, his body stills and he looks down at me in question. Tears fill my eyes again and I don’t even know what to say.

“It’s okay,” he says gently, removing his hands from my sides and sliding them into my hair. “We can talk about what just happened another time.”

No way am I going to tell him about my childhood. Instead of saying that, I just nod. His eyes search my face, and I know he doesn’t like what he sees when his jaw starts ticking.

“I gotta go or I would make you talk to me.”

“Go. It’s not a big deal.” I push his chest and he shakes his head.

“Fuck me.” He drops his head before lifting it again, his eyes looking me over. “Just like that, you replace those f**king barriers.”

“You need to go,” I say, really wanting to be away from him and how exposed I feel.

“Swear to Christ, if I didn’t know that the reward would be worth it, I wouldn’t waste my f**king time with this bullshit.”

His words are like a slap in the face and I flinch, closing my eyes for a second before opening them back up. “Get off me,” I say softly, and he presses me harder into the bed.

“Shit, I di—”

I cut him off, shoving at his chest and yelling at the top of my lungs, “Get the f**k off me right now!” I wiggle around, trying to break free. Not being strong enough to get him off me has tears of frustration forming in my eyes. “Please get off me,” I whisper, closing my eyes. My body loses its fight, knowing that it’s pointless; he has all the power.

“This isn’t over,” he says quietly, kissing my forehead.

I don’t say anything; I just wait until I feel him get up. As soon as his weight is off me, I jump out of bed and look around for my stuff from the night before. I quickly grab it and open his bedroom door. Then I shut it behind me and run down the hall to my room, slamming and locking my door behind me.

I drop the clothes in my hands to the floor before I go to the closet, pull out a bag, and start to pack. I need to get out of here. My heart is wide open with him. Somehow, he has maneuvered through my defenses and now has the power to hurt me, and he isn’t someone I trust with that power.

He has proven on more than one occasion that he can be an ass. How can I possibly put myself out there to be hurt by him again? I hear him coming down the hall and brace myself. When his fist pounds on the door, I close my eyes before yelling, “Go away!”

“You even think about leaving me, Autumn, and I will hunt your ass down and spank the shit out of you.” He pauses and his voice gentles. “I don’t have time to talk to you right now, but we will be talking about what happened.”

What is happening to me? The sound of his voice has me dropping my bag onto my closet floor.

“I’ll text you later, baby,” he says softly.

I walk to the bed and lie down, pulling some of my hair to my face to smell it. Just like the last time I slept with him, his scent is clinging to my hair. I need to get it together; I need to stop running from him. I have a feeling that, if I do get away from him, it would be the biggest mistake of my life, and I have made enough mistakes to last a lifetime.

I stand and go to the window to make sure he’s gone before I go downstairs. I need my phone out of my bag, and I left my purse in my car last night when I came home. I pull on a pair of shorts and leave my room. I turn off the alarm before opening the front door. The second I hit the front porch, a silver convertible pulls up. I squint my eyes, trying to see who it is, and when I recognize the driver, I run to my car, open my door, quickly grab my bag, and run back to the front porch.

“Do you ever wear clothes?” Kenton’s ex, Cassie, yells.

I want to tell her no, but instead, I run into the house, dropping my bag next to the door. I almost have the door closed when it’s pushed open and Cassie grabs a handful of my hair.

I have never been in a fight in my life. I have been beaten many times, but I’ve never fought back, knowing that the consequences would be a lot worse if I did. My body freezes, and then my adrenaline surges. I turn around and smack her across her face. Her hand goes to her cheek, and her eyes widened then narrow.

“You bitch,” she says, smacking me back a lot harder than I hit her.

“I’m a bitch?” I shake my head in disbelief. “Get out of this house right now,” I say with a scary calmness, holding my stinging cheek. I’m too old for this crap.

“How does it feel knowing you’re sleeping in a bed I picked out…that I f**ked him in?”

Okay, so that didn’t feel good, but I keep my face neutral, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of knowing that her words affected me. “Get the f**k out,” I tell her, leaning forward and pointing at the door.

“You’re sleeping in my bed with my man and you want me to get out?” She lets out a laugh then looks me over.

“He’s not yours,” I hiss.

“He will always want me!” she shrieks. “Why do you think he hasn’t changed the bed or redecorated?”