“Hey, it only just happened last night,” I defend. “And we spent the day cleaning up the camp.”
“Uh-huh.” She scowls at me, but I see right through it. My mom was never good at being mad at me for long. “Where is she?”
“She wasn’t outside?”
My mom shakes her head, so I walk around her and out the front door in search of Kleo. She should have been right out—
“This is such bullshit!” Judson yells. Following his voice, I find Kleo leaning up against a tree, looking angrier than I’ve ever seen her. Which is saying something because I’ve pissed her off plenty.
“What’s going on?” I slip an arm around her waist, and she leans against me.
“Sofia is trying to get Judson to let her keep the proceeds from the sale of the house. She’s apparently told her lawyer that his infidelity is what sparked the divorce.”
“Infidelity? What infidelity?”
“Exactly. Bitch cheated on him more than once, and she’s claiming he was never there for her emotionally because he was too busy taking care of his train-wreck sister.” She raises her hand. “Which would be me, obviously.”
“That’s horse shit.” I only met Sofia a handful of times, but that was plenty for me. A woman who clearly was used to getting whatever the fuck she wanted when she wanted it, she always treated Judson like he was there to serve her hand and foot.
“Tell me about it. Judson won’t let me kick her ass.”
I chuckle and press a kiss to the top of Kleo’s head. “Probably a bad idea to resort to physical violence. Not that she wouldn’t deserve it,” I add when Kleo glares up at me.
Judson pulls the phone away from his ear and holds it to his chest. “I’m going to be a few minutes, but I’m fine, Kleo. Go inside.”
“But—” He shakes his head, and Kleo sighs. “Fine.” Stepping away, she grabs my hand and pulls me toward the house. “How was drinking with my dad?”
“Fine. He told me he’ll bury me in the backyard if I hurt you.”
She stops and gapes up at me. “He did not.”
I laugh. “He did not. But I did get the talking to, so just know I have sworn to never do anything to make you mad.”
Kleo throws her head back and laughs wildly. “Did you tell him that ship sailed years ago and that I already nearly beheaded you with a battery organizer?”
“No, I conveniently forgot that part. Call it a sex-traction.”
“A sex-traction? Really?”
“Yep. You distracted me with sex, and I forgot all about you nearly taking my life.”
“Drama queen,” she whispers as we walk into the house.
“Kleo!” My mom rushes forward and wraps both arms around her in a huge hug that has even me feeling a tad embarrassed. “I’m so happy for you two.”
“Thanks.” Kleo steps back and takes my hand again. “It’s really new, but I’m happy.”
She looks up at me, and I can’t help but stare right back as a voice inside my head screams at me that she’s it.
She’s the one.
The person I’ve been waiting for.
Which, of course, is completely insane since we only just got together last night and not two days ago—we hated each other.
But it’s there, lingering in the back of my mind as I try like hell not to move too fast.
27
Kleo
A bright light shines through my window, and I roll out of bed—more than a little curious as to why. When I get to the window, it’s no longer shining up at me. I peer into the darkness, confused at the spot of light on the grass. Curious, I grab my robe and tie it around me before tiptoeing out of my room and down the hall.
The house is silent, everyone still sleeping at this late hour, so I’m as quiet as possible as I open the front door and step out onto the lawn. The cool grass is still wet from the sprinklers, so I nearly run across it, not wanting my bare feet to freeze.
A yellow flashlight sits on the grass, shining on a manila envelope with my name on it. Heart in my throat, I reach down and open it, interested to see what this one says. I’ve been getting love notes ever since I got home for spring break, but they’ve yet to tell me who they are.
Tearing open the package, I retrieve the contents—and scream.
“Easy, Kleo.”
I sit up, breathing ragged as Dean reaches for me, cradling me in his arms. His warmth surrounds me, eradicating the chill left over from my nightmare. I take a deep breath, then another, and yet another as I try to steady my thundering heart.
His hand runs small circles on my back, grounding me to the present. “Sorry,” I murmur against his chest.
“Don’t apologize. Are you okay?” He pulls me back and kisses me tenderly, a whisper of lips against my own.
I nod. “Just a nightmare.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really?” I let out a nervous chuckle and run both hands over my face. “It’s just been really hard to be back here—and be sober.”
“I’m sorry, Kleo.” He presses a kiss to my forehead.
“I’ll be fine.” I turn my face up to study him in the dim light of the lamp he must have turned on. “You make it easier.” The confession makes me feel vulnerable, but it doesn’t bother me as much with Dean. I know that no matter what I tell him, he won’t make me feel weak. Won’t treat me like a victim.
“I’m glad.” He grins at me before tilting my face up and kissing me, deeper this time. I let myself sink into it—and him until he pulls back. “We need to get some sleep.”
As much as I wish I could disagree—I’m exhausted. “Okay.”
He shuts off the lamp, and we lie down. I snuggle closer to him, and he bands an arm around my waist, pulling me against his body. As I listen to his soft breathing in the dark, I close my eyes and begin to count, letting the numbers pull my focus from the past.
“Morning, beautiful,” Dean greets as I step into the kitchen.
“Morning, handsome.” I lift my face up and kiss him softly. He’s shirtless, wearing only his workout shorts, his body coated in a thin layer of sweat. It’s fucking delicious to see.
“Get any more sleep?”
I nod my head as I pour myself a cup of coffee and squeeze some honey into the mug. “What time did you get up?”
“About two hours ago.”
I gape at him and look at the clock on the microwave. “It’s only seven.”
“It is.” He grins.
“You were up at five?”
“I was.”
“Do you hate yourself?”
Laughing, he reaches forward and grabs both my hips, pulling me toward him. “Have I told you yet this morning how crazy I am about you?”
I set my mug beside me, and he reaches up to cup my face, running the pad of his thumb over my cheek. I shiver, the sensual touch making my blood heat. Lust pools at my belly, and I clench my thighs together to try and ease some of the ache.
“You haven’t,” I say.