Molly McAdams - Capturing Peace

“Get out.”

“What?” I looked around the otherwise empty parking lot before looking back at him. “Why?”

“Just get out of the car, Duchess.”

I stumbled my way out, and gasped when he pushed me against the back door, pressing both his forearms on the window on either side of my head, caging me in.

“This is where you decide,” he said gruffly. “Hudson told me you were independent, and you just told me you get scared if you can’t do something by yourself. You didn’t have to tell me you don’t like ­people helping you for me to figure that out, but you’re not just stopping ­people from helping you, Reagan. You’re stopping anyone except from your family from getting too close. And that includes me.”

“But—­”

“You’re scared, that’s fine. But why can’t you just see where this goes, huh? For once, let someone else be in control. Let me be there for you, let me help you—­” He must have seen the panic in my eyes, because he quickly added, “by just being there for you. Like tonight. Was it so hard for you that I got Parker to eat the rest of his food? Did that make you feel like you didn’t have control of the situation? And don’t fucking lie to me, I need to know if I messed up by doing—­”

“No,” I whispered, and realized he was right. The same smile I’d had to cover in the restaurant was back, but this time, I just stood there staring at him in awe. “Watching you two together like that was . . . I don’t even know how to describe it, Coen. But not once did it bother me that you were trying to get him to eat. I—­to be honest, I loved watching you.”

Coen’s lips tilted up in a soft smile, and his dark eyes slowly moved over my face. “You need to make the decision. Do you want to try letting me in?” He leaned in close so his breath washed over my lips. “Letting me help you doesn’t mean you can’t do this alone, Reagan. Everyone knows you can, but you shouldn’t have to.”

“Coen . . .”

“Yes or no, Duchess.”

“Yes,” I said without hesitation, and moaned into his mouth when his lips met mine.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pulled our bodies closer and groaned my aggravation when his phone rang.

“Yeah?” he answered, and bit down on my bottom lip. “I’m kissing your sister, leave me alone.”

“I can’t believe you just told him that!” I huffed, and pushed back on his chest.

“Yeah, he’s probably going to kick my ass for that one.” Capturing my lips with his again, he ran his tongue along mine and whispered, “Don’t care. But they’re waiting for us at my place, so we should go.”

With one last soft, teasing kiss, he pulled back and I asked, “Why?”

“Uh . . . because then he’d just show up here and beat me up?”

I laughed and pushed against his stomach when he stole another kiss. “No, why did you do all this? It hasn’t even been a week since we’ve actually started talking, so why would you put up with me? I know I’ve embarrassed myself in front of you too many times to count since I first saw you, and we mostly argue, so why would you care to stick around to see what could happen? You could have your pick of girls, ones who wouldn’t have kids. I just—­I just don’t understand why you want to see where this goes so badly.”

Coen raised one eyebrow at me. “Don’t you?”

“I do, but I’m asking you.”

He stayed quiet for a few moments as he thought, and for a while, I didn’t think he would answer me. “I don’t do relationships, Reagan. I’ve just never been that guy . . . I’ve always thought they were pointless, to tell you the truth. I didn’t want to deal with the headache of them. And, Duchess, you are proving to be one massive headache that I can’t seem to get enough of.” He smiled, but it quickly fell.

This was so not going where I thought it’d been about to. “Then why?”

“You want to know why I want this? Why the guy who thinks relationships are a waste of time wants the girl who’s scared of them so goddamn bad?” When I nodded, he swallowed hard and looked away for a few seconds. When he finally looked back at me, his face was somber. “Because I found someone who chases away my demons just by looking at me. I had a girl more or less fall into my arms who can make me forget everything just by saying my name. Why wouldn’t I push for this?”

My mouth fell open at his words, and I just sat there staring at him. I couldn’t figure out a response to such a soul-­baring confession, I only knew that I wanted to be her. It didn’t matter that I knew he was talking about me; in my mind, I was just Reagan. There was no way for me to be that person to someone else . . . but with the depth of emotion in his words . . . I knew he’d meant every single one of them.

“That is why I want this. That is why I put up with you when you’re being unreasonable. That is why—­after a week and a half since meeting you—­I would do anything to see where we could go. I’m not declaring my love for you, because I’m not in love with you . . . yet. But I’ve never met anyone like you. And that’s not some bullshit line meant to make you fall for me. I never expected to find you; I didn’t know someone like you existed. I never knew there could be a relief from the agony I go through every day, and I don’t know what I did to deserve it. But after having that relief, after having you near me . . . Reagan, I crave you. And I can tell you right now it isn’t just because you silence my demons. I crave the peace you give me, yeah . . . but I crave your laugh, your love for your son, and this more.” He cupped his hand around the side of my neck, and my breathing quickened as the place where he was touching warmed. If I looked down, I knew my arms would once again be covered in goose bumps. “You feel that.”

It wasn’t a question, but I still nodded my head slowly.

He took a deep breath in through his nose, and for the first time since he started explaining to me why he wanted this, his eyes left mine—­but only to fall over my face for a few seconds. “Did I just scare you with everything I said?”

“No,” I said so softly, I might have only mouthed it.

Coen’s lips formed a sad smile, and I cupped his face in my hands.

“You didn’t. I hadn’t . . . well I don’t know what I’d been expecting, but definitely not something that beautiful.”

“Beautiful?”

“Yeah, Coen, that was the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me. All of it—­including the demons.”

“You’re wondering about them,” he guessed.

I shifted my weight and bit down on the inside of my cheek. I didn’t want him to think I’d been lying to him, and I didn’t want to ruin the moment he’d somehow created with his perfectly haunting words.

“Reagan—­”

“Only because of Parker. Coen, I swear when you said that my first thought was I couldn’t possibly be the girl you were describing, and I wanted so badly to be her—­”

“Just answer. Did. I. Scare you?”

For long seconds, there was no sound except for our breaths as our faces stayed inches apart. Nothing else. The cars on the street, the ­people walking by—­everything else was tuned out as I studied the worry in his dark eyes. “You didn’t scare me, but there’s something about you that makes me drop my guard, so I need to know: Should I be scared? For Parker . . . should I be scared of your demons, Coen?”

“I’ll never do anything to put Parker in danger, and he’s not in danger from me. Your brother would never have even considered letting me near you if there was a chance of that. There’s just . . . there are things that happened over the years in the army that have stayed with me, and will always stay with me. Things that I wish I’d never seen, things that I can’t talk about even still, and some of them your brother doesn’t know about. But you don’t have anything to be worried about. Okay?”