Colters' Lady (Colters' Legacy #2)(16)


“Is something wrong? How long did I sleep?”

Instead of answering he leaned in and brushed his lips across hers. Just a simple, delicate whisper over her mouth, gone almost before he was there.

“Nothing’s wrong. We were going to kidnap you. I’d rather you tell me you want to go with us.”

There was light humor to his words that made her wonder if he was serious at all. She cocked her head to the side and then looked beyond him to see Michael standing in the doorway to the living room shaking his head.

“Where are we going?” she asked. Then she realized how ridiculous the question was. She flushed, but Seth only smiled.

“You’re going home with us,” Michael said from the doorway.

Before she could express her confusion over that statement, Seth spoke up.

“Home to Clyde. I don’t want you on the streets, Lily, but I won’t take you there against your will, either. I want you to come with us. I need you to come with us.” He traced the line of her lips, and fire gleamed in his eyes. “Let’s see where this takes us, honey. Let us take care of you.”

Her mind blanked for a moment, and she stared between the two brothers. Pain was a dull throb in her arm, forgotten in breathless anticipation. Seth was close, so close, and she realized she wanted him to kiss her. Worse, the same odd longing filled her at the idea of Michael doing the same. Of touching her and letting his warm, tender voice flow over her.

It was because she’d lived too long in a vacuum. What was it they said about animals starved for affection? They’d allow anyone to pet them? That was what she felt like. Sensory deprived. Devoid of the most basic human comforts, like love and acceptance.

She didn’t deserve them. But God, she wanted them.

“Lily?” Seth prompted.

Slowly, she nodded.

She expected triumph in Seth’s eyes, but what she saw was relief. It warmed some of the cold encasing her soul that he worried for her. That he cared.

“Now, there are some things I need to know before we leave,” Seth continued. “And I need you to be honest with me. Are you in some kind of trouble? Because if you are, I can help.”

She shook her head. It wasn’t any kind of trouble he was talking about. The cop in him probably thought she was a fugitive in hiding.

“Okay, are you running from someone?” His eyes narrowed as he asked, and his jaw tightened. “Is there someone who hurt you? I don’t want to endanger my family by bringing you home if there’s some threat I need to know about. If there is, you need to tell me about it so I can eliminate it.”

Again she shook her head, and she saw frustration mirrored in both Seth’s and Michael’s gazes.

“There’s nothing like that,” she said in a low voice. “You have no reason to believe me, but I would never endanger you or your family. I’ll understand if you no longer want to…do this.”

Some sins weren’t so black and white. No, there wasn’t anyone after her. But it didn’t mean she hadn’t done a terrible thing. Time hadn’t dimmed the guilt or the pain, but she’d become more adept at blocking it out.

“We can accept that. For now.” Michael’s tone warned they wouldn’t always allow her to avoid the issue forever. And maybe “for now” was what she needed. Just a little while to be someone else. To live someone else’s life and escape her own.

Seth looked like he wanted to press, but instead he pulled up a flannel shirt and a pair of jeans that looked awfully close to her size.

“I know your arm hurts, but we need to get you into some decent clothes before we leave. The T-shirt you’re down to won’t protect you from zip. I noticed a few holes in your jeans, and my sister left a few of hers here so you can try them.”

Without waiting for a response, Seth pushed the covers away and helped her sit up on the couch. Then he carefully pulled the flannel shirt around her shoulders. She thrust her good arm through the armhole and then slowly straightened her injured arm so that she could fit it through the other sleeve.

He buttoned the shirt up, his fingers lingering at each one as he worked down her chest. Her br**sts tightened and throbbed, and it embarrassed her that her ni**les thrust against the softness of the material. The shirt was large enough that he might not see, but she was acutely aware of each touch.

The awareness startled her, but it was pleasant. No, not pleasant. That was too mild a word to describe the pleasure that hummed through her veins like sweet honey. It was warm and electric and it brought her to life—into the sun after so long in the cold.

To her surprise, he didn’t waste any time divesting her of her jeans. He unbuttoned the fly and helped her to her feet and then pushed the loose material over her hips until she stood in only her panties and the too-large flannel shirt hanging to her knees.

She stole a glance at Michael, her cheeks flaming, but he had discreetly looked away.

“Hold on to my shoulder,” Seth directed as he held the jeans open at her feet.

She braced herself, her fingers sliding over the well muscled cord of his neck until she gripped his shoulder. Then she stepped into the pants and allowed him to pull them up her body and fasten the waist.

They fit her well with only an inch or two to spare at the waist. Her hips were slimmer but they hadn’t always been. There’d been a time her curves were lusher and she was more rounded. Living on the streets made a person lean and efficient.

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