Smoke and Steel (Wild West MC #2)(46)

Nanook moved to do as told but I twisted violently, wrapped my arms around him, and cried, “No!”

Core said no more. I cried into thick fur, then I heard fingers snapping, lost the fur, but got strong arms around me and a T-shirt covered chest.

Core shoved a wad of tissues in my hand.

I cried, then I cried some more, I did some hitched breathing that made Core’s arms tighten, then I cried some more.

Through this, I wiped my eyes and blew my nose and threw the used tissues on the floor, only for Core to shove clean ones in my hand the minute it was empty.

I petered out and was essentially sniffling and keeping my face tucked to his chest because I knew my makeup was a disaster.

“So, it didn’t go too good,” Core drawled.

I let out a loud snicker, shook my head and thought, fuck it.

I pushed away from his chest, swiping my eyes one last time with a tissue, and I looked at him.

“We’re officially done with our father.”

His blue eyes were moving over my face, but his lips only hummed, “Mm.”

“Am I mess?” I asked.

His gaze rested on mine. “Totally.”

“Awesome,” I mumbled, looking away.

He caught my jaw in his hand and made me look back.

I started having trouble breathing again.

“Been waiting for you to get home,” he murmured, those blue eyes dropping to my mouth.

Okay.

Okayokayokay.

What was happening with him now?

“Sat outside in my truck for the last two hours.”

Two hours?

Oh my God.

“Core.”

His thumb slipped along my lower lip.

I stopped breathing altogether.

His eyes lifted to mine.

“I’m not sure I can deal with your mixed signals tonight,” I admitted.

“Am I sending mixed signals?”

“One hundred percent yes.”

His thumb slipped back over my lip. “Right now, am I sending mixed signals, baby?”

I quit breathing again.

Because the answer to that was…no, he was not.

“I’m not good for you, and I know it,” he informed me, (uh…what?). “We’re gonna talk about that because you gotta make a decision having all the information. That’s not happening now. Not when you’re vulnerable. But I knew tonight would be bad, and I tried to keep my distance, but I couldn’t. I had to be here for you. So for now, let this just be what it is. Okay?”

I nodded. “Okay.”

Another thumb swipe and then he dropped his forehead to mine.

He closed his eyes.

There was something poignant about that, deep and meaningful.

To fully feel it, I closed my eyes too.

Yes.

I still didn’t know what it was, but whatever, it was beautifully deep and truly meaningful.

And having that feeling, having him right there, I could wait for him to share the meaning with me.

He shifted, running his nose along my jaw, then he slid his fingers in my hair and tucked my head back to his chest, his other arm still around me.

“What does it for you?” he asked. “Ice cream? Tequila? Soppy movies?”

He didn’t offer making out or sex, which was disappointing, or alternatively an indication of how much of a mess my makeup was.

“Soppy movies?” I ribbed.

“Is that your choice?”

“God no.”

He chuckled and held me.

“He hadn’t seen us in two years, and one of the first things he did was give Li shit about not wearing mascara,” I whispered.

Core sat back and curled me deeper into him, stretching his legs out in front of him and crossing them at the ankles.

At first, this just felt nice.

And then I realized he was settling us in so he could listen to me.

I nearly started crying again.

I didn’t.

I told him about my dad, about that night, and more.

Not all of it, but more.

When I was done, he pulled us both off the couch, bringing us to our feet, and a sheer wave of panic struck me because I thought he was leaving.

“Get comfy,” he ordered. “I’ll raid the kitchen.”

I relaxed.

He strolled into the kitchen.

I watched.

Nanook watched.

Nanook then looked to me.

He appeared undecided.

“Go on,” I urged.

It was his dad, and it was a kitchen, so Nanook loped after Core.

I went to my room and put on a pair of drawstring pajama shorts, a bralette and a cami. I avoided looking at my face, but definitely washed it. I put on some moisturizer.

I came out to Core stream-surfing the TV, the used Kleenexes having disappeared and everything in my snack cabinet on my coffee table along with two opened beers.

It was at that juncture I was reminded I hadn’t had dinner.

I thought of this rather than thinking about Core cleaning up my snotty Kleenexes, not only because that was gross, but because I’d had a rough night. I didn’t have it in me to process him being a man who would tidy up used Kleenexes.

“Documentary about someone else’s fucked-up life?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” I answered, plopping down beside him.

At that point, I was getting friend vibes, so I was also feeling weird, a little annoyed, and a little worried I’d read it wrong yet again.