I didn’t believe him. Not for a minute. He was only saying that to make me stop crying, but I was too distraught to argue.

I sank into him, sobbing so hard I could hardly catch my breath. My legs went limp, but Jed’s arms were tight around me, holding me up.

“Let’s go find a room, Neely Kate. Okay?”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t care. Part of me wanted to disappear right here . . . just evaporate into a wisp of a cloud and be gone forever.

He led me to the passenger side and gently helped me in, then shut the door.

He got behind the wheel and started driving. For all I knew, he was heading straight back to Arkansas, not that I blamed him. But I knew if he took me back there, I’d promptly turn around and leave. I couldn’t go directly from the stench of this to the goodness of Rose and the hopefulness I felt with Joe, and that knowledge only made me cry harder.

But when Jed drove into town, he pulled into the parking lot of a Motel 6 instead of taking the highway south.

He got out without a word and went inside, but he was back in only a few minutes. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. What did he think of me? What had I done? I’d just disgusted the one person who could possibly help me out of my nightmare.

He drove to the back of the lot and grabbed my bag as he got out. Seconds later, he opened my car door and squatted next to me.

“We’re goin’ inside now.”

I lifted my gaze to stare at him. Preparing myself to face his scorn.

The worry and concern I saw instead made me reel.

He gently grabbed my arm and helped me out. We started toward the stairs, but I was exhausted and dizzy from the whiskey. He swooped me up into his arms, carrying me as though I weighed next to nothing. Something inside of me told me to stop him, but I didn’t want to fight. I’d been fighting all my life, and I was so weary of it.

Maybe it was time to just let things be.

Maybe it was time to give up.

After opening the door, he turned on the light. Then he set me down on the king-sized bed as gently as if I were made of porcelain. He tossed my bag onto the dresser on his way into the bathroom, and less than half a minute later he was back, sitting on the bed next to me.

He grabbed my chin and gently turned me to face him.

I stared at his chest, too humiliated to look him in the eyes. He lifted a wet washcloth and tenderly began to wipe my mascara-smeared face.

I lifted my hand to stop him, still focusing on his shirt. “Jed. Stop. You don’t have to do that.”

“I know,” he said softly as he pulled my hand from his. “When was the last time someone besides Rose took care of you?”

The thought made me teary again. “Ronnie. After my miscarriage. He tried, but he didn’t understand.”

“Didn’t understand what?” he asked as he continued wiping my face.

“He knew I was upset over losing the babies, but he didn’t get why I felt so guilty.”

“Wasn’t he upset too?”

“In a way, I guess. I think he was partially relieved, especially when he found out they were twins. Part of me wonders if he really wanted them. I was so eager for it all, it was almost like he got caught up in the wave.” I looked up at him. “Now I wonder if he wanted any of it for himself.”

“Wanted what?” he asked quietly, but I could see a storm brewing in his eyes.

“The house. The baby. Our marriage. He wanted those things, but I think I pushed him into them a whole lot sooner than he had planned.” I shrugged. “Maybe I was scared he’d see the real me and run.” I took the rag from him and finished wiping.

Turned out I’d been right to worry. I’d spent plenty of sleepless nights thinking about it all. Realizing it couldn’t be a coincidence that Ronnie had turned cold and distant right after the doctor told us I was unlikely to get pregnant again because I’d had too many STDs.

“He must have wanted all of that if he gave in.”

I shook my head. “I can be . . . insistent.”

“He was a grown-ass man, capable of saying no,” he said in a rough tone.

“Maybe.” But I couldn’t help thinking that things might have been different if I hadn’t pushed so hard. In that alternate world, I wouldn’t be trying to get a divorce from a man who’d abandoned me. And I definitely wouldn’t be blubbering to Jed now. I’d made an utter fool of myself tonight. I lowered the washcloth. “I’m sorry for earlier . . . I’m humiliated beyond belief. I shouldn’t have . . .” I paused. “I couldn’t stand to think you thought less of me—”

“Don’t you ever be ashamed of doing what you needed to do to survive.”

“Still . . .” My face felt hot. “I’ve made it weird between us. I plan to visit my old trailer park tomorrow. I’m sure I still have friends there. You don’t need to come. I can even stay with them so you can head back and try to work things out with Skeeter.”

“I’m not leaving you, Neely Kate,” he said in a tone that let me know it wasn’t up for debate.

“I know you made Rose a promise—”

“You think I’m staying for Rose?” he asked in disbelief. “Let’s get one thing perfectly clear: I’m here for me.”

I searched his face for answers. I still couldn’t understand why he was willing to deal with my thousands of pounds of baggage. “Why?”

“Because you need a friend. I’m your friend.”

I glanced down, still embarrassed. I wanted to believe him, but Jed didn’t seem like the kind of guy who tolerated weakness, and I’d shown plenty of it tonight. “But you were so angry with me . . .”

He shook his head and said emphatically, “Not with you, Neely Kate. I was angry at the situation.” He scooted over a few inches. “Look,” he said in frustration. “I could see you were hurt . . . that someone or several someones had hurt you bad. You’ve told me next to nothing, so I don’t know who the people who hurt you are or what they did . . . and then I saw you drowning your sorrows in cheap whiskey, talking to that lowlife you used to work for . . . and it makes me so angry that I can’t fix this for you.” His voice rose and he stopped. “That’s what I do, Neely Kate—I fix Skeeter’s problems—and I’m damn good at it. I’d give anything to fix this for you, but I don’t even know what this is.”

I still wasn’t sure why he wanted to help me, but I believed that he did.

Overwhelmed by him—that he had chosen to be here with me, that he genuinely wanted to help despite the many times I’d tried to push him away—I threw my arms around his neck and pulled him close. It felt so good to lean on him, but I couldn’t put this on him. I needed to handle the situation myself. “I have to do this on my own.”

His arms tensed. “Are you going to try to ditch me again?”

The fact that he wasn’t running gave me the courage to be honest. “No. I like having you here.” I shot him a grin to lighten the mood. “And it’s not so bad having badass backup.”

His seriousness faded and he looked amused. “You think I’m a badass?”

I snorted and rolled my eyes, unable to stop my smile from spreading. “Please.”

“So you’ll keep me around?”

I plucked at his still-damp T-shirt. “You make a pretty good pillow to cry into.”

He grinned, looking more relaxed than he had since we’d left Slick Willy’s parking lot. “At least I have a purpose.”

There was no forgetting what he’d said to me earlier. I’m irredeemable. I lifted my hand to his face and searched his eyes, serious now. “You’re a good man, Jed Carlisle.”

He snorted and tugged my hand down. “No. I am not a good man. But we’ll exorcise your demons, Neely Kate, and then we’ll bury the bones and light it all on fire. I’ll make sure you’re free of whatever happened here. No more running.”

I froze. His words hit a little too close to home.

“Are you hungry?” he asked. “Thirsty? You probably have a headache after crying so hard.”

I shook my head.

“Do you want anything?”

I studied him, worried about how he’d react to my request. “Can I ask you a favor?”

“Of course.”

His warm smile gave me the courage to ask. “I’m exhausted, but I’ve had a lot of nightmares lately . . . Will you hold me?”

He took so long to answer, I was sure he was going to ignore the question. Finally, he said, “I was going to sleep in the chair.”

I gasped in horror. “In the chair? You paid for the doggone room. If you don’t want to sleep with me, then I’ll sleep in the chair.”

The glint in his eyes warned me that he was digging in his heels. “Like hell you will.”

I wasn’t sure if he was trying to prove he was a gentleman or if he really didn’t want to hold me. But part of me really needed him right now, which made the humiliation of begging slightly more bearable. “How about a compromise?” I asked. “You can sit at the head of the bed and hold me. Just for a few minutes. Please. If you’d like, you can move after I fall asleep.”

His face softened. “Of course.”

He kicked off his shoes and scooted up on the bed, rearranging the pillows to support his back and head, and stretching his legs straight in front of him. Then he reached out his arms in an invitation.

I slipped off my jacket and sandals before crawling up the bed and snuggling into his side. I’d intended to curl up beside him, leaving him plenty of room, but my body seemed to react of its own accord. I sank into him, our bodies practically fusing together—my leg curling over his upper thighs, my arm draping across his chest, my hand cupping the back of his neck. His arm curled possessively around me, his hand resting on my hip.

He felt right, more so than any man ever had. And that scared the spit out of me.

Jed reached over and turned off the light, but I held on to him, worried he’d change his mind. I realized this made me a literal clingy female—every sane man’s nightmare—but it was too late to turn back now.

To my surprise, when he sat back against the pillows, he lifted his free hand to my hair and began to slowly stroke, a soothing motion that brought fresh tears to my eyes.

“I’m not leaving,” he whispered.

No. Jed wasn’t running. I wasn’t sure that was such a good thing, but I was too tired to reason it out. I soon relaxed back into him and started to drift off.

Tonight, I’d give myself the illusion that I was safe and protected and loved.

The harsh reality of tomorrow would come soon enough.