Free Who Do You Love (Rock Royalty Book 7) by Christie Ridgway

targeted,” Bart said. “And not just random kid mischief.”
    Eamon wanted to believe that. He so wanted to believe that. With a nod, he continued on, only to have his feet fail him as he reached the entry to the kitchen and caught sight of Cami. His hand grasped the doorjamb, knuckles going white.
    She sat slumped on a chair, her head down, her tangled hair covering her face. A blanket thrown over her shoulders concealed her arms, hands and torso but revealed the hem of a skirt that hit at mid-thigh. A deep mossy green, it was edged with a delicate line of silver embroidery that matched the silver sandals on her small feet.
    He’d never seen her wearing a dress, let alone high heels.
    Fairy.
    Movement over her shoulder caught his attention, and Eamon saw that Si was dumping a dustpan filled with shards of glass into the garbage. He met his gaze.
    “Thanks,” he mouthed.
    The younger man shrugged. “No problem,” he said, his voice low. “I’m gonna find some cardboard. Me ′n′ Bart will make a temp fix to the broken panes.”
    As he walked out, his eyes flicked to Cami who looked as if she might be sleeping, then back to Eamon. He nodded.
    As the other man passed, Eamon pried his cramped fingers from the doorjamb and stepped into the kitchen to crouch at Cami’s feet.
    “Hey,” he said softly. “Hey there.”
    Her whole body jerked, the blanket sliding from her shoulders, and her head shot up. She blinked at him, her eyes the same green as her dress, looking like a startled kitten.
    He smiled at her, then felt it die as she lifted one bandaged hand to push her hair from her face. The gauze was stained red.
    Blood. Gunshots. Screams. Shouts.
    Before that memory could take hold again, Eamon shot to his feet. “Bart!”
    The older man hustled into view. “Yeah?”
    Eamon gestured toward Cami. Bandages. Blood. His heart slammed against his breastbone. “Do we need a hospital? A doctor?”
    “You could ask me,” she piped up. “I’m right here.”
    His gaze bore into the grizzled man’s.
    “I took care of it myself,” Bart said. “Nothing serious.”
    “Okay.” Eamon shook out the tension in his arms. “Okay. Thanks.”
    “Hello?” Cami said again, and her voice held a peevish edge. “Right here.”
    “Yeah.” He sucked in another long breath and turned back to her. Control. “How are you doing?”
    “Fine.” She brushed her hair with her hand again, and he steeled himself at the sight of the wrapped layers of cotton covering her injured flesh. “It’s all kind of bizarre, though.”
    “How about if I make you some tea?” he offered, already turning toward the cupboard where she kept her dishes. “And you can tell me about tonight. What have you been up to?”
    “I went out to dinner and drinks with the girls. Cilla, Rose, a bunch of others.”
    He carefully a filled a mug from the tap. “Not a date?”
    “You mean with a man?”
    His gaze flicked to her face, but he found her expression unreadable. Keeping his own impassive, he crossed to the microwave. “Yeah.”
    “No. Like I said, it was a girls’ thing tonight.”
    The microwave dinged, and he dumped the teabag he’d found into the hot water and crossed the floor to put it near her elbow on the small kitchen table. “But you didn’t drive yourself home.”
    “Tequila shots.” She made a face.
    He grinned. Not only was she a lightweight, but that particular distilled beverage was her nemesis. “So you were having a little too much fun.”
    “Sure.” But she didn’t meet his gaze and instead focused on her tea, bringing the mug to her mouth so she could blow across the surface of the hot water.
    He focused on her lips, pursed in the position of a kiss, and remembered them dropping dozens on his chest as they lay naked in bed, in lazy, blissful afterglow. His fingers had sifted through the glorious colors of her hair, and then she’d made her way lower, so that her mouth found his cock. He’d gone hard again as she