Billion Dollar Revenge (The Lincoln Brothers #2)

35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Evan

Witnessing Bobby’s filthy fucking hands hurting her and then the spitting in her face sent the pulse in my temple ticking and my hands curling into fists. He’s so fucking lucky the police intervened; otherwise, I would’ve beaten the shit out of him. What a deplorable human being.

Thankfully, my security guys have been keeping an eye on him and alerted me. They called the police first. I was walking my family to their cars before I was going to go back and talk to her, when I received the call and rushed back inside.

Chelsea’s fearful face flashes before my eyes. I hold her closer in the back of my private car, taking in her sweet scent. A sense of comfort washes over me, but it’s still not enough to just hold her. I need her to be okay. I can’t let her go.

Marriage. Kids. We need to talk about it, in the safety of my home.

My heart pounded at the sight of her happy face earlier today. She saw the people who want her to succeed. And then fucking Bobby comes along and ruins it all.

She deserves to know there are many people who love and support her.

She’s slumped beside me, as if she needs me to hold her up. It’s like the adrenaline has worn off and her body is fatigued.

I cradle her like a precious shell in the ocean—Unique, gentle, and beautiful.

She shines a light on me. I was in the dark ripple of the sea, unable to see or feel my way out of it. Now I found her, like my way back to the shore. She’s the one I can’t live without.

Her body shakes with fresh shivers. “Are you cold?” I ask, pulling her closer, letting her nuzzle into my body.

She moves her head. “No,” she murmurs, her breath tickling my neck.

The car arrives at my house. “We’re here,” I whisper against her.

She pulls away to sit up, looking a bit dazed and very tired.

“Wait there,” I say, quickly exiting the car and rushing around to her door. In a hurry, I rip the door open and sweep her up in my arms, carrying her like a delicate flower. A whoosh of air leaves her mouth, but she doesn’t resist. Her head rests on my shoulder.

I carry her through my house, taking her to the bathroom next to the basin. She stands, frowning as she looks at me in question. “What are you doing?”

“Cleaning you up.”

I get a washcloth, run it under warm water, bring it to her face to wash it, and then I repeat. With my body close to hers, she tips her head back and closes her eyes. I push her bangs up with one hand and hold them out of the way while I wipe lightly with the other. Washing away Bobby's disgusting saliva. When I finish, I watch her straighten, her eyes fluttering open. All her makeup is removed, leaving only her bright wide eyes.

“Better?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. Are you okay?” I ask, still trying to calm my simmering anger. I hate Bobby fucking Cox. He will be ruined. No matter what happens between Chelsea and me, I’ll never let him near her again.

She lifts her lips in a half smile. “Surprisingly, yes.”

I’d like to think I am the one making her better, but I doubt it.

I take her hand and lead her to the kitchen, lifting her tall, graceful body onto the counter.

My lips part when I close the distance between us, standing between her parted legs, gazing into her intoxicating brown eyes. Only a small space separates us now. My eyes drift to her mouth. I want to kiss her, but I know one kiss wouldn't be enough. I wouldn't be able to hold myself back. Her sweetness, presence, and attention are powerful, and I haven't had any of that for so long.

Fuck, I’ve missed her.

It's the first time since my office, when I stood between her legs, desperate to kiss her. My breathing is becoming ragged.

I rub my hand over my face, knowing I need space so we can talk first.

“I’ll get you a drink, order food, and then we can talk.”

She exhales heavily. “Sounds good.”

Stepping away, I move around my kitchen, preparing our drinks and ordering our food. I hand over a glass of bourbon, which she takes and sips.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, staring over the rim of the glass with clear, compelling eyes.

I stand in between her thighs, but not as close as before, clutching my glass to keep from touching her as we talk. Keeping my gentle gaze locked on hers, I speak from the heart.

“Chelsea, my life felt empty without you. You are such an important part of my life, and when you were gone, it left a hole that nothing could fill. No amount of work, family, poker, exercise?” I lift the glass up. “Alcohol can fill that void.”

“My life isn’t the same either. I had to go to Connecticut to get away from painful reminders. Even something as small as the damn building reminded me of you. I went away to try to detach myself from you.” She looks at me with a faraway look, as if remembering the times we shared.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” I tell her, keeping my eyes on hers.

Her eyebrows draw together in an agonized expression. “Where does that leave us, Evan?”

“I love you.” The words tumble easily out of my mouth.

She stares blankly at me with her lips parting. “I love you too, but it’s not enough.”

I sip my drink, wetting my dry mouth that this conversation has given me. I found someone who I love for the first time, who loves me back. She's the first woman who truly loves me. I can see a future with her. Something I haven’t thought would happen to me. I thought that door was closed. Fuck, locked with a key even.

“I choose to trust you because I don’t want to be stuck in the same place, and I can’t keep doing this. I don’t want to lose you because I’m scared.”

Her eyes soften as her frown deepens. “You’re scared?”

I step closer so my body hits the front of her. “Of you hurting me? Yes, so fucking scared.”

“I won't do that. You can trust me with your heart.”

My heart is beating so hard at her words, trust, heart, love…it all mirrors what I feel for her. With that, I set my glass on the counter and rest my hands on top of her thighs, feeling the muscles twitch underneath. “I love you so much that I’d marry you today to prove it.”

A smile as intimate as a kiss trembles over her lips as she nods. My hands slide up to her waist as hot tears slowly find their way down her cheeks.

“I want that so m-much,” she stammers as tears choke her voice, and she lowers her glass next to mine. Her hands touch my shoulders, reminding me just how much I’ve craved and missed her during our time apart. It fucking killed me.

Closing the distance between our mouths, I smother her sob. I kiss her with all the hollowness I felt without her, allowing her kiss to rebuild the sadness with new beginnings. Her lips are wet, sweet, and demanding.

This moment of soul-searching makes all the doubts and fears disappear. There’s something about the way I feel with her that quiets the voices. Her words were sealed with a kiss.

The door sounds, and I reluctantly pull back. She touches her lips with her hand like she’s in a dream. Unable to get enough, I sear a path down her delicate neck. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

I keep my eyes on her as I head to the door. Reluctantly, I tear my gaze away to open the front door to retrieve our food. Quickly, I return to the kitchen.

She grips the edge of the counter, and her body slides down. I hold out my hand to stop her from moving any farther.

“Stay there,” I command.

She rolls her eyes. “I can walk and sit at the table.”

Leaning forward, I lower my lips to her ear and whisper, “I know, but I want you here.”

I like standing between her legs. She looks down at me with a glimmer in her eye, like I’m the rarest gem she’s ever seen.

She shrugs as if she doesn’t have the energy to fight me.

I open the bag and pull out the sandwich, unwrapping it for her, ready to hand it to her.

Her eyebrows lift. “Are you going to feed me?”

I wasn’t, but if that’s what she wants. I shrug. “If you want.”

She giggles at me. “No. I can’t believe you were, though. You’re insane.”

“No, I’m in love with you, Miss Macfarlane.”

She accepts the food from my hands and takes a large bite.

I feel like right now is the first time in over a week I’ve felt alive.

Such a mundane task, but caring for her is a need. It gives me a purpose in life. I want something that makes me feel alive. Risks and all. Heartbreak or not. I’m giving her my heart and soul. There’s no way around it. I’m all in with this relationship.

I pick up my food and eat. We both must have been hungry because we don’t speak in between bites, only look at each other like we’re the most interesting show.

Once the food and bourbon are finished, I offer her another drink, which she declines.

“Take me to bed and hold me, Mr. Lincoln,” she orders.

“I thought you’d never ask,” I reply, pulling her off the counter and close to the planes of my body. In long purposeful strides, I walk to my room, lowering her to the bed and climbing in beside her.

Drawing her legs up, I bring my body behind her. We fit snugly together. My hand grips her waist as her hand slips over mine and holds me there.

I lift my head and kiss her temple. “You’re safe. Rest, baby, I’m right here if you need me. I’ll never spend a day without you again.”

She sighs and shuffles into me. Her in my bed makes the scars fade as I realize how much I’ve grown over my fears to ask her to stay. Stay for life.

With those thoughts, I hold her tight and fall asleep with the sounds of her breaths as a lullaby.