Free Liberty Begins (The Liberty Series) by Leigh James Page B

the right girl,” he said, and stroked my hair. He pulled me back onto his lap and I felt flooded with warmth again, with relief.
    “How do you know?” I whispered into his neck. I let myself sit there, mesmerized by his proximity and his scent. I let myself relax and feel safe. This was uncharted territory for me, all of it. I knew I was way out of my league, and that I would pay for it later, but I couldn’t stop myself.
    “Because,” he said, and his voice was firm.
    “Because? You’re gonna have to do better than that, John,” I said, letting him cradle me in spite of myself.
    “Because I told you...everything happens for a reason, and I finally have mine,” he said, and bent down to whisper into my ear. “You are my reason, Liberty.”
    I looked up at him with wide eyes. “Your reason for what?” I asked. I could barely hear myself above the thudding of my heart.
    “For all of it,” John said, and kissed the side of my face. “For the long road that brought me here.”
    My heart twisted, like he was squeezing it, and I felt a ringing in my ears. I had to make a choice. He could be feeling what I’m feeling — this crazy attraction, this crazy pull.
    I could believe what he was saying to me, believe what I was feeling, and take a leap of faith. He was right here in front of me. The rest of it, the desert, the club, my memories of the past ... they were with me, they always would be. But what if John was for real?
    The odds were stacked against it. If I had learned anything, it was that you should never lose control. We saw it in Vegas all the time: even if you’ve won something more than what you had, you could lose that — and more — in an instant. The regret was so much more miserable then. Even though you were losing something that wasn’t really yours, it had the illusion of belonging to you, briefly. So not only were you losing the thing itself, you were losing the possibility of it, the hope of it. It would be worse for me to think that I had something with John and then lose it. As it was I had nothing, so I had nothing to lose.
    He was asking me to take a chance. My heart, which had been so bruised and silent in my chest for so long, ached for me to take it. I didn’t know who, or what, to trust.
    I closed my eyes and pulled him to me.

 
     
    I was probably going to regret all of it. In that moment, though, I savored it. He grabbed my hair, pulled it back, and kissed me. Hard. I felt heat surge through me as I kissed him back. I jumped onto his lap again, unthinking, unselfconscious, and threw my arms around his neck. I tried to wrap my legs around his waist, to press myself against him, but he had to pull himself forward, to readjust, and it was enough of an awkward movement that it cleared my mind. I slid quickly off his lap and caught my breath. Um ... I probably should not be straddling him on a tour bus filled with his coworkers ... and his prisoner.
    I could feel my face burning red. “I’m sorry,” I said, exhaling. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
    “I hope you’re kidding,” John said, looking at me with hooded eyes. “We’ll get back to that tomorrow,” he said, and took my hand. His shirt was rumpled now and his brown hair was tousled. He looked sexy as hell.
    I reached over and smoothed his hair. “Tomorrow,” I said, and I knew that even though I was ready, I would never be ready.
    “Where are we?” I asked, shaking my head, trying to clear the hazy lust out of it. It was midmorning at this point. There were fields outside the window, and flatness.
    “The lovely state of Nebraska,” John said and kissed my forehead. “You should try to get some more sleep. When we get back you’re going to have work to do.”
    “What kind of work?” I asked, and yawned. The tall grasses blew in the fields. There was so much that was different, so much that was new. I was exhausted.
    “Hard work,” John whispered to me, and nestled me against him. “Now sleep,