“Please don’t,” she pleaded, pushing and pushing. “Please. Sam, you can’t. Please!”
Matt froze. Did he wake her, or let the dream play out? He didn’t want to startle her. But when she started trying to hit him, he didn’t have much of a choice.
He shook her. “Holly! Holly, wake up! It’s a dream, sweetheart.” He didn’t even realize the endearment had fallen from his lips, but it felt right for some reason. “Holly, wake up. Wake up.”
She moaned. He almost thought she’d fallen back asleep, but her lashes fluttered and then she looked up at him like he was a stranger. He couldn’t make out her expression in the dark, so he switched on the flashlight.
They both blinked at the bright light. Finally, he was able to see her face, and he realized with a start that she’d been crying.
“Oh Holly,” he breathed. He brushed a tear from her cheek. “What were you dreaming?”
She shuddered; he pulled her close. Arya snuffled, her snout almost in his armpit.
“It was nothing. Sometimes I have weird dreams.” But her voice was shaky.
“Tell me what happened. Was it about your ex? Sam?”
She shook her head.
“You said his name,” he said gently. “You kept saying please and no, too.”
She seemed to deflate in his arms, like she didn’t have the energy even to speak now.
“I keep having dreams,” she finally whispered into the gloom. “About when Sam attacked me. I thought by now I’d be over it, but it’s like every time I close my eyes, he’s there. Sometimes I get away, but other times, I don’t.”
He rubbed her back in soothing circles, rage filling him. If he could get his hands on this Sam character, he would. He’d punch him so hard he’d see stars, and then he’d punch him again for good measure. How could someone treat someone as lovely and caring as Holly so badly? He’d seen enough domestic violence cases as a police officer to know there was no rhyme or reason to them, besides men wanting to hurt women and not let them get away.
He felt her body shudder, and she cried against his shoulder. He let her, not knowing what else to do. Despite feeling helpless, he rubbed her back and said soothing words into her hair. To his relief, it seemed to help calm her down after some time.
She moved so she could wipe her face. “God, I’m sorry,” she said. “Here I am, making you take me to your house, feeding me, and then I end up crying like a baby. You must think I’m insane.”
“Not insane. Just scared. And sad.”
She bit her lip before letting out a breath. “I’m so tired of being scared,” she admitted. “So tired, Matt. What if he finds me? He’ll kill me. I know he will. What if I can never get away from him?”
He shushed her, but he didn’t tell her she shouldn’t be afraid. He knew the statistics; he’d seen the aftermath more than once. Not in Heron’s Landing, but when he’d first started working as a cop. He’d go out to one place in particular, see the bruises on that woman’s face, but her husband had somehow managed to avoid jail time. And when she’d tried to leave… He forced the memories away. This time, he’d keep this woman in his arms safe from harm.
Holly sighed. Matt kissed her forehead, even though he knew he shouldn’t. But it wasn’t a sexual kiss, but one of comfort. A promise. I won’t let anything happen to you.
When she tipped her head back, her eyes dark, he didn’t stop her when she touched his face. When she brushed fingertips across his eyebrows, down his face, tracing the line of his jaw. She smiled a little at the feeling of his stubble. He barely breathed when her thumb brushed his lower lip. And when she reached up and pressed her mouth against his, he didn’t tell her that this wasn’t a good idea. He didn’t say anything at all.
Instead, he wrapped her in his arms, and he kissed her with everything he had, because it was the only response that made sense. She made sense. He slanted his mouth over hers, tasting her sweetness, and when she moaned? His heart thrilled.
He kissed her until his mind emptied. Gentle, teasing kisses, kisses that told her everything he’d wanted to say the moment he’d first seen her. Kisses that even he didn’t fully comprehend. Kisses that made him see stars behind his eyelids.
He felt fingers in his hair, and he laughed a little when Holly pulled off the ski cap he’d put over his hair. What did he need all of these clothes and blankets for anyway? He was an inferno. He was burning up. It was like a fever underneath his skin, but it was a fever solely for this woman in his arms.
Holly touched her tongue to his, and it was like flame to kindling. He rolled her over, kissing her all the while, their bodies aligned. His erection pressed against her thigh, and she whispered his name as they kissed harder and harder. He wouldn’t be surprised if steam was rising from their bodies. Their tongues dancing together, he touched her face, her neck, wishing he could get her out of all of these damn clothes—
And then he heard a whir and suddenly, the house came alive. The power turned back on, the heat practically bursting through the vents. Arya and Sansa barked, running from the bed, and the light flooding the room caused Matt to realize what they were doing. That he was on top of Holly, that they’d been kissing, and that he was the biggest jackass this side of the Mississippi.
Holly’s face seemed to echo his own horror, and he sat up so quickly that he felt dizzy. But they were still entangled in all of those
