Naked Love(50)

“Is Daddy going to jail again?” she whispers from my lap.

Again.

That breaks my heart.

My head whips right when the door squeaks open.

“They’ll need a quick statement from you,” Jake stares at me with a blank look, like he doesn’t have blood on his hands, when he literally has blood on his knuckles but not a scratch on the rest of his body.

“Wait right here,” I say to Carly. That’s her name. She’s five and just learned to ride her bike without training wheels. Her mom cries every time her dad has her for the weekend. And Carly is allergic to walnuts.

She nods, hugging Elsa, her bunny, to her chest.

Jake shuts the door behind me. I make a quick inspection of him, and he does the same to me as an ambulance pulls up next to the police car.

“Carly …”

Jake shakes his head. “They’ll deal with her. Find her family.”

“Her mom.”

Jake nods several times. “Yes. She’ll be fine.”

I don’t know why, but a sudden wave of emotion hits me and tears pool in my eyes.

Jake keeps his blood-covered hands at his sides and leans down, putting us at eye level. “You’re fine. Okay. Just tell them exactly what happened.”

“Okay.” I nod once.

The police officer asks me a few questions. There’s some back and forth between Jake and the moaning asshole on the gurney. Sure, he’s the one leaving on his back, but he threatened to rape me, and he threw the first punch at Jake—which apparently, he didn’t land. By the time we’re done and everyone has agreed that no charges will be filed, the ambulance leaves. There’s another vehicle here with a lady helping Carly into the backseat. She gives me a shy wave with a smile.

Wow!

Her dad was just hauled off in an ambulance, and she’s smiling. That proves how truly awful he is.

Jake leaves me staring at the departing car. “Let’s go, Ave. Beating a man up because you felt the need to run off on your own is not exactly how I wanted to start my day.”

“What? Are you serious?” I jog to catch up to him. “I went for a run. I didn’t run off. The little girl was lost in the woods, so I helped her back to the campsite. It’s not my fault her dad happened to be a total asshat. And you didn’t have to beat him up so badly.”

Jake grabs soap and paper towels out of the back of his truck and marches over to the spigot outside of the primitive facilities. He scrubs the blood off his hands.

“Seriously? You’re mad at me?”

“You’re my responsibility, Av-er-y. I don’t want to deal with you getting raped or murdered. That’s not the call I want to make to Deedy and your father.”

“Av-er-y? Why are you saying my name like that? And for the record, I was dealing with that prick.”

He scrubs his hands harder. “You were watching him get his dick out.”

“He was a hundred pounds overweight. I could have outrun him.”

Jake shuts off the spigot, shrugs off his gray T-shirt to dry his hands, and pins me with a narrow-eyed scowl. “He could have had five other buddies just around the corner ready to gang rape you.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “His daughter was in the front seat of his truck.”

“Too late, Ave. You’ve already proven you’re too smart to act this fucking na?ve.” He makes his way back to our tent.

“I’m a grown woman. Stop making me feel like an errant child.”

“You’re my responsibility.” He opens the tent. Swarley ambles out to sniff around and find all the areas he needs to mark.

“Maybe you didn’t hear me. Maybe you think I’m a child. Maybe you don’t understand that being a smart woman means I know what I’m doing.” I follow him into the tent, crowding the middle where we can fully stand while he grabs another shirt from his bag. “Maybe you—”

“Maybe you should find something better to do with your mouth than nip at my ankles and yip yap at my back.” He turns around, invading my personal space—not that we really have any personal space. Tents are pretty much the anti of personal space.

His gaze drops to my mouth a split second before he kisses me.

“No!” I pull back. “I haven’t brushed my teeth. And my lips are dry.” My hand cups my mouth.

Jake’s eyes widen a fraction. A smile creeps up his face as he drops his chin to his chest and shakes his head. “This … this is why you’re bad at sex, Ave.”

My hand falls from my mouth. “I am not bad at sex. I’m just a little self-conscious and considerate. Don’t you want to kiss someone who has fresh breath and doesn’t smell like they just jogged five miles?”

His lips twist.

I want to kiss those lips. I really do. But my breath probably smells worse than Swarley’s. My skin has to taste like a salt lick. With no makeup on, he’ll be forced to stare at the bags under my eyes because I’m sleep deprived.

“You’re one designer handbag short of most every woman alive.”

I frown.

His head cocks to the side. “You’re also one spontaneous act short of perfection.”

“That’s …” I clear my throat.

Quite possibly the most heart-stopping words anyone has ever said to me.