WANTING WENTWORTH (The Gilroy Clan Book 9) by Megyn Ward

Author:Megyn Ward [Ward, Megyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-08-13T00:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-NINE

Kaitlyn

Even though I insisted that I’m able to walk, Went picked me up when he was finished patching me up and carried me to his bed. Switching the bathroom light off, he navigates his way through the dark bedroom to set me on the edge of it, he gives me a frown and shakes his head before I can say anything. “It’s not even 4AM, Sunshine. I’ll call Damien in an hour or two to come get you and take you home.” Turning away from me, he makes his way to the dresser and pulls open the middle drawer. Fishing around in it, he pulls something out—a T-shirt. “For now, just put this on and get in bed.” Tossing me the shirt, he moves toward the door. “Try to get some rest—you’re supposed to be here, cleaning up after me anyway. No one is going to miss you. Not for a while.”

He’s right.

No one will be looking for me anytime soon—except maybe Brock and I’d just as soon hide from him for the rest of my life.

Catching the shirt, I watch him move away from me for a few moments before I crack. “Went?”

Back toward me, he stops in front of the door, hand poised on the knob to pull it open. “Yeah?”

Shit.

Staring at his broad, muscular back, I lose my nerve. Never mind dances on the tip of my tongue but before I can say it, his voice reaches for me in the dark.

“You can say it, Sunshine,” he tells me, his tone low and rough, the words like gravel against his throat. “Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you. All you have to do is ask.”

“Will you help me? With my dress… it buttons down the back.” It comes out in a quiet rush like maybe if I say it fast enough, he won’t understand what I’m saying but will somehow do what I’m asking anyway. “My shoulder’s pretty sore and my hand hurts. I don’t think I can undo them on my own.”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. Just stands there, the huge, looming shape of him illuminated by the push of moonlight through the half-parted curtain. Never mind finds its way back to the tip of my tongue but like before, he speaks before I can push the words out.

“Okay.”

The shape of him comes toward me in the dark and I hold my breath while he kneels in front of me, the move bringing us nearly eye-to-eye. Leaning into the space between us, Went reaches behind me, the tips of his large, blunt fingers brushing against the base of my neck. Starting with the top button, he slips it loose before working his way to the next one.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper softly against his cheek and close my eyes, the feel of his hands working my buttons loose, rough fingers skimming down my spine, making my head spin.

The hands pause for a moment before he pulls back, his bottomless black gaze finding mine in the gloom.

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