Chaps and Chance Page 4

  “Yeah,” Cole agreed. “Is he drinking? Is that it?”

  Layla licked her dry lips. “That’s what I thought. At first. A couple of years after we were married, he started drinking with his brothers a lot. But even when he stopped for a while, things didn’t get better. He only got more manic and anxious. Everything I did set him off.” She swiped the tears from her face with her fingertips. “I was actually glad when he started drinking again. It seemed to calm him down. Some of the time.”

  “Manic and anxious,” he echoed. “So you think it’s mental illness of some kind?”

  She sighed, relaxing further into Cole’s arms, wishing she could just enjoy how good it felt to be held by hands that had never hurt her. But Cole had risked his life coming to her rescue tonight. He deserved answers to his questions.

  “I suspect so,” she said. “It might be bi-polar disorder like his oldest brother, but Wayne won’t go to a doctor to get tested or get medicine. He got so angry with me every time I brought it up. He said I was crazy and wouldn’t listen when I told him there was no reason to be ashamed of getting treatment for an illness.”

  “You’re not crazy.” Anger crept into Cole’s voice. “He’s obviously sick. It’s like there’s nothing there, behind his eyes. I’ve never seen anything like that, not even with Neil.”

  Layla’s eyes squeezed closed. “I’m sorry.”

  Cole’s arm flexed, pulling her back tighter to his front. “What did I say about that? You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. I just wish I’d come home with you from the bar. Then I would have been here when Wayne came up the stairs and he wouldn’t have laid a finger on you.”

  “Or we would have both been killed in our sleep.” Layla’s skin heated as she became increasingly aware of all the intimate places she and Cole were touching, places where they’d never touched before. This should feel strange, but it didn’t. It felt right and being held had been exactly what she needed. Cole had always seemed to know what she needed.

  “You have to be careful,” she continued. “Even though nothing happened between us, Wayne won’t know that and he’s as jealous as he ever was. After tonight, your name is going to be on his hit list.”

  “I can handle Wayne,” Cole said, making it clear he had no idea just how crazy her husband truly was. “But we need to make sure you’re safe. We should go to the police first thing in the morning. And we can start on whatever paperwork you need to file to get a restraining order.”

  Layla shook her head, fresh panic dumping into her bloodstream at the thought of walking into the police station. “No. I can’t.”

  “I know it might not get him to back off, but at least—”

  “I can’t,” Layla insisted. “It will only make him angrier. I have to handle this myself.”

  “Not to be an asshole, Layla, but it didn’t look like you were handling it so good tonight.”

  “I wasn’t, but it was only because I was stupid enough to drop my guard,” she said. “If I hadn’t, I would have had my shotgun by my bed and everything would have been fine. He didn’t have a gun and I would have.”

  “And what if he brings a gun next time?” Cole asked, propping up on one arm to look down at her. “What if you’re sleeping and don’t wake up? And even if you’re awake, what if he’s a better shot?”

  “He’s not,” Layla said flatly. “I’ve been practicing.”

  Cole was silent for a long moment, and Layla could practically hear the wheels turning in his mind as he tried to find the words to make her see sense. But he didn’t know the whole story and she could never tell him, no matter how much she trusted her old friend or how grateful she was for his help.

  He might have saved her life tonight. He had certainly saved her from a fate worse than death. If he hadn’t come running, she would have been on her way back to the Wheeler ranch with Wayne. And who knows what he would have done to punish her for her sins.

  She shivered. She wasn’t going home to Wayne. Ever. Not even for a day.

  She’d kill herself first.

  The thought made her throat squeeze so tight she could barely breathe. She didn’t want to die, and she didn’t want to go back to being afraid all of the time. Not when she’d just started to live again, not when she’d finally begun to have dreams that didn’t turn to nightmares halfway through the night.

  And not before she remembered what it felt like to have a man’s hands on her body bring her pleasure instead of fear and pain.

  “Layla, I—”

  “Let’s not talk.” Layla turned in his arms until their eyes met in the dim light. “Words aren’t going to make anything better.”

  “What will make things better?” he asked, studying her, concern knitting his features.

  “Look at me the way you did at the bar,” she said softly, bringing her hand to his face, relishing the way his middle-of-the-night whiskers prickled her palm. “I don’t want to be poor Layla Wheeler any more tonight. I don’t want to be pitied.”

  “I don’t pity you,” he whispered, his hand coming to rest on her hip. His touch seared through her thin cotton pajama pants, sending heat rushing across her skin. “I’m worried about you. This isn’t just going to go away. You need to take steps to protect yourself.”

  “I will.” Her focus drifted to his lips, those full lips she’d imagined kissing more than once, back before Wayne, when they were both fifteen and she was trying to sort out if Cole’s constant teasing meant he was interested in her the way she was becoming interested in him. “But that’s work for the morning, when it’s not dark enough to make it okay to do things we shouldn’t.”

  His gaze darkened and his fingers curled into her hip, sending flames flickering to life low in her belly. “Whatever we do tonight, I’m going to want to do again in the morning. I don’t want to be a mistake you made in the dark.”

  “At least it would be a sweet mistake,” she said, bringing her lips closer to his, her entire body beginning to ache in a way she hadn’t been sure it ever would again. “Kiss me, Cole. The way you would have before you knew I was broken.”

  “You’re not broken, you’re beautiful.” A pained expression flashed across his features. “And believe me, there’s nothing I’d rather do, but I don’t want to take advantage. I don’t want—”

  “Then I’ll take advantage of you.” She pressed her lips to his, breath catching as electricity swept through her, making her heart stutter in her chest.

  Even before Cole’s lips parted and his tongue swept through her mouth, before the kiss grew hotter, deeper, and he rolled on top of her with a groan, pressing her into the covers as they devoured each other like they’d never get enough, she knew this was exactly what she needed. She hadn’t been sure she’d ever desire a man again, but the need flooding through her as Cole settled between her spread legs, rocking against her as they kissed, was as intense as anything she’d felt when she was sixteen and couldn’t wait to be alone with Wayne.

  In Cole’s arms, she was sixteen again—innocent, new, and unafraid. She was a girl who had no idea that love could go so wrong or that terror could infect a person until they grew capable of just about anything to purge the poison from their life.

  With Cole, she was free, and she meant to make the most of every minute of sweet liberty before she came crashing back to earth.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Cole

  Cole knew he should stop. He should get up out of the bed, tell Layla he’d see her in the morning, and go downstairs to stand guard.

  But damn if she didn’t taste even better than he’d imagined—like summer sunshine and something sadder, but sweet, too. So sweet.

  She drove him crazy, from the way her long legs wrapped around his hips, to the way she gasped into his mouth as he ground his erection between her legs. Just fucking her through his jeans and her pajamas as they kissed was so intense it made his heart feel like it was going to stop. And when she smoothed her cool hands underneath his tee shirt, sliding up hi
s back until her nails dug into his shoulders, he was pretty sure he was going to die.

  Nothing had ever felt as good as her hands on him. The touch was relatively innocent, but there was something about having her bare skin touching his that sent electricity shooting through his body, bringing him to life in a way that was almost painful.

  “Touch me,” she said, arching her back, pressing her breasts more firmly against his chest. “Please, Cole. Touch me.”

  Cole slipped a hand between them, palm resting on her waist before smoothing up her ribs, but Layla stopped him before he could reach her breast.

  “Not there,” she said, guiding his hand back to her waist. “Not yet.”

  “I’m sorry.” Cole pulled away, a wave of self-loathing washing through him. “We should stop.”

  “No, we shouldn’t.” Her arms circled his neck.

  He shook his head. “You’re upset. I don’t want to—”

  “Stop talking,” she said, desperation creeping into her tone. “Stop thinking. The only thing that can upset me right now is if you don’t kiss me again. And touch me. Here.” She captured his hand, guiding it to the top of her pajama pants.

  He hesitated, torn between giving her what she wanted and the voice in his head that said she was too emotionally vulnerable right now to make this anything close to right.

  “Please,” she begged, eyes beginning to shine. “Unless you…don’t want to.”

  “Of course I want to,” he said. “I’ve wanted to be with you like this since we were kids.”

  “Then be with me.” She leaned up, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Touch me. Please, Cole. Please.”

  The longing in her voice finally broke him. Who cared if this was right or wrong? He just wanted to make her happy. She deserved some happiness, even if it was happiness stolen in the dark.

  “Here?” he asked, trailing his fingers back and forth beneath the waistband of her pants.

  “Yes.” She sighed, her thighs parting in an invitation he couldn’t resist.

  Slowly, he slid his hand down the front of her panties. He held his breath as his fingers brushed over the crisp hairs covering her mound before teasing through her slick folds to dip into the well of heat between her legs.

  “Jesus, Layla,” he said, breath shuddering out as he let one finger glide into her channel. “You’re so wet, baby.”

  “Not baby, anything but baby,” she said, trapping his face in her hands and pulling his mouth down to hers.

  “Sweetness,” he whispered against her lips. “Because you taste so sweet.”

  “You too,” she said, tongue teasing across his bottom lip. “Like smoke and honey and—” She broke off with a moan, hips beginning to rock, matching the rhythm he’d set with his fingers between her legs. “Heat. You make me so hot. I never thought I’d feel like this again. Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”

  “Not until you come on my hand.” He sealed the promise with a kiss, breath coming faster as his tongue warred with hers and his fingers stroked inside of her, drawing more slickness from her body.

  He added a second finger, his cock swelling painfully in his jeans as she whimpered and clung more tightly to his shoulders. He could feel how close she was in the way her swollen flesh clutched at his hand and fuck if it wasn’t almost enough to make him come in his pants, like the teenager he’d been when he first started falling for Layla Parker.

  “You’re so beautiful.” He rolled his thumb against her clit at the end of each thrust, loving the ragged sound that escaped her throat and the way her nails dug more forcefully into his skin. She was so responsive, so shameless as she bucked beneath his hand. “I can’t wait to make you come.”

  “Yes,” she panted. “Yes, yes.”

  “Come, sweetness.” Cole pulled back far enough to see her face, to watch her cheeks flush an even deeper red as she neared the edge. “Come for me, let me watch.”

  Layla cried out, mouth falling open and eyes squeezing shut as her pleasure claimed her. Her pussy tightened and released around his fingers, tightened and released, until his fingers were coated with her juices and he could barely breathe. He’d never felt so connected to a lover while doing something like this, never felt his throat lock with emotion or his cock swell until his flesh felt bruised with need.

  “Oh my God. That was…” She trailed off, her breath still coming fast, making her breasts rise and fall beneath her thin gray tee.

  “Good?” Cole glanced down, the sight of her nipples hard against the fabric of her shirt driving him crazy. He was growing increasingly desperate for some relief of his own, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was giving Layla what she needed. Whatever she wanted, he was hers to command.

  “So good,” she said, eyes drifting open. “I already want more.”

  “Anything you want,” he said. “But this time I want to taste you if that’s all right.”

  She shivered in his arms. “Yes.”

  He slid his hand from between her legs, lifting her tee shirt as he dropped his head. He was granted his first glimpse of Layla’s breasts—just long enough to see soft, creamy skin, deep rose nipples, and a two-inch scar marring the pale orb on her right side—before she jerked her shirt back down and scooted away from him.

  “Not yet.” She sat up, pulling her clothes back into place self-consciously.

  “Did he do that to you?” Cole asked, jaw clenching and a wave of rage sweeping through him. “Because if he did, I’m going to kill him myself.”

  Layla shook her head, her eyes narrowing. “Don’t say that. Don’t even think it. This is my fight. Not yours. What Wayne did or didn’t do to me is none of your business.”

  “It just became my business,” Cole said. “And I’m taking you to the police station tomorrow. You can give me shit about it if you want, I don’t care, but I’m not letting that monster anywhere near you.”

  Layla crossed her arms defensively, but the look on her face was anything but frightened. She looked as furious as he felt, but Cole knew it wasn’t Wayne she was mad at right now.

  “I came on your hand, so now I belong to you, is that it?” she asked, voice trembling. “Now you get to tell me what to do, ignore my wishes, and do what you damned well please, no matter what I have to say about it?”

  Cole’s shoulders relaxed away from his ears as the anger drained out of him. “No, not at all. I’m just trying to—”

  “I don’t need you to keep me safe,” Layla snapped as she scrambled off the end of the bed. “And I sure as hell don’t need another controlling man in my life.”

  “Shit, Layla,” Cole said, following her as she started toward the bedroom door. “I’m not a controlling man. I’m worried about you, that’s all. I…I care about you.”

  Layla stopped at the doorway and held out an arm, gesturing toward the stairs. “Thank you for coming, but it’s time for you to go.”

  Cole cursed, propping his hands on his hips and bowing his head, struggling to think of what to say to make this better. But he couldn’t think of anything, nothing but that mark on her skin and her sweet taste and how good it had felt to hold her. Nothing had felt so good, so right, in so long. He didn’t want to lose her again before they’d even gotten started. He wanted tonight to be the beginning of something bigger, not a one-night stand.

  “Don’t shut me out,” he finally said, meeting her eyes in the dim light. “Please, don’t. I’m sorry, okay?”

  Her arm dropped to her side, but she didn’t move from the door and her eyes remained guarded, wary.

  “I saw the scar and I just…I lost it,” Cole continued. “But when I lose it, I’m still me. I’m still a person who cares about you and who would never ever hurt you. I’d rather die first, Layla, and that’s the God’s honest truth.”

  Her gaze gentled, but the tension around her mouth remained. “I know that. But I need to be in control of my life from now on, Cole. I’m going to make the decisions that feel right to me and I’m not going to ask
your permission or anyone else’s.”

  “Okay,” Cole said, lifting his hands in surrender. “I get it. But can I at least help you?”

  “With what?”

  “I didn’t see any sign of forced entry downstairs,” he said, jabbing a thumb toward the front door, “which means Wayne probably has a key.”

  Layla’s brow wrinkled as she glanced over her shoulder. “He might. I had a spare key in my jewelry box. I tried to find it before I left, but it was gone. I thought maybe I’d just misplaced it, but…”

  “Am I a bossy bastard if I say it’s probably not a good idea for you to stay here alone until you can get the locks changed?”

  Layla turned back to him with a sigh. “No, you’re not. You’re right. I’ll call the locksmith first thing in the morning. Hopefully, he’s up to working on a Saturday.”

  “And if he’s not?” Cole asked, stepping closer. “Will you let me stay here with you tomorrow night? Or, better yet, come stay with me?”

  Layla frowned, but Cole hurried on before she could turn him down outright.

  “Just hear me out. The gate on our property has an alarm that sounds if it’s opened without one of our remotes. And Wayne would have to drive by my brother John’s place before he reached the turn off to my house. My sister-in-law Lily is the lightest sleeper I’ve ever met and I know she wouldn’t mind giving me a call if she notices a strange truck rolling down the road in the middle of the night.”

  “That’s sweet of you to offer,” Layla said, frown still firmly in place. “But I don’t want to put your family in danger.”

  “My family wouldn’t be in danger,” Cole said. “Wayne wants to get to you and to stick a hot poker up my ass. He doesn’t give a shit about the rest of my family.” He moved closer, leaning against the doorway on the other side and nudging her bare foot gently with his boot. “And if you come stay with me, I can show you all the fun things I’ve learned since we were kids.”

  “I think I already know a little about that.” Heat crept into her cool blue gaze, making his pulse leap.