Chapter 4

4

ROXIE

I wake up with my legs tangled in Ronan’s, using his chest as a pillow. For a man with so many muscles, he still manages to be comfy as hell to lie on top of. We’re both still naked, and I can’t help the sleepy smile that pulls at my mouth as I remember the night before.

I’ve never felt as empowered as I did when he lay down on the bed and told me I had the power to do what I wanted. All my life, I’ve been told what to wear, how to act, what to do … and yet, this hulk of a man, an ex-con at that, let me do whatever the hell I wanted. Even now, I can feel the intoxicating rush of freedom he gave me. I feel like a new person, and the motivation that I’ve tried to hide for years coming back in full force.

The sex is incredible , but more than that, Ronan is just different. Different from anyone I’ve ever met, different from anyone I’ve ever dared to dream about. And for a girl who’s been dreaming of ‘different’ her whole life, well, the way my heart pounds rapidly in my chest tells me all I need to know.

I’ve only known him for like a day, but I can’t deny the strength of the feelings building in my chest for him.

A loud banging sound bursts through the air, and I jolt from my reverie. It takes my brain a minute to catch up with what’s happening—someone’s knocking on the front door. Shit. As carefully as I can, I scramble out of bed, not wanting to disturb Ronan. He’s still asleep as I yank on clothes, finding my hair bobble in the middle of the carpet and scraping my knotted hair back from my face in possibly the messiest bun of all time.

I probably look like hell, but at least I’m dressed and modest by the time I unlock and yank open the front door. The bright, welcoming smile I pasted on my face dies as soon as I see who’s on the other side of the doorway.

“Dad?” I ask, my grip on the doorknob tightening until my knuckles are white. Being around my dad always makes me feel on edge, judged, not good enough. I’ve just embraced my power, and I don’t want to lose it again.

“What’s going on, Roxie?” he demands, his brow furrowing at me and his mouth in a deep frown like it always is when I’ve done something to anger him. Which is … pretty much all the time. “You didn’t answer your phone or the one at the front desk. You have me worried sick!”

He doesn’t sound worried sick. He sounds angry. Disappointed. As always.

“The power went out?—”

“It’s back on now,” he interrupts before I can even finish my sentence. “You were here alone and there was a horrible storm, and nobody knew if you were okay! You had nobody to take care of you?—”

“I can take care of myself!” I snap back, anger and indignation rising to drown out the emotions he spent a lifetime instilling into me. “I am not a little girl anymore. I’m not weak or silly or irresponsible or whatever the hell else you think of me! I am a grown woman, and I’m more than capable of surviving a storm for God’s sake!”

Dad blinks at me before he shakes his head and sighs like I’m giving him a headache. I can practically see him thinking a prayer for patience to the God whose name I’ve just taken in vain. But we’re not at one of his Sunday services, and I simply have lost my ability to care what judgment he or God passes on me.

In fact, I don’t care what anyone in this stupid town thinks of me. I care what I think. I care what Ronan thinks. Everyone else? They can shove their opinions up their asses for all I care.

“If you’re quite done with your attitude,” Dad says in that holier-than-thou voice that makes me bristle. But I’m not the little girl he can control anymore. “We have more important matters to discuss.”

I blink at him, unable to hide my sneer. More important matters than him apparently coming to check on my safety? Something cold and icy slips through my body, dread filling me. I just know that whatever he’s about to say, it can’t be good.

“You remember Jim Morton?” he asks casually, not waiting for me to answer before he continues. “Well, his son has just returned from overseas. A fine young man, that Abe is. Comes from a good family, you know, always attends church, has a degree in law and everything.”

“Okay…” I say slowly, not understanding where he’s going with this.

“He’ll make a fine husband for you, Roxie,” Dad declares, and I freeze.

No. No. Absolutely not.

My entire life, I’ve been adamant about one thing—I don’t want a marriage like the one my parents have. They got married at twenty, had a child, built a life together—not out of love, but out of convenience. Their families were close. They lived in the same town. Both went to church. Growing up, it was evident to me that they didn’t share any real love. They tolerated each other but put on a good show in front of everyone else. Our house was always cold, and there were always shadows in my mother’s eyes that darkened when my father was in the room.

I want love. Passion. True desire.

What my dad suggests? It’s my worst fucking nightmare.

“No,” I breathe, shaking my head.

“Everything’s arranged,” my father continues, completely ignoring my protest. “It’ll be wonderful for you, Roxie. Exactly what you need. You’re such a good girl, and he’s a good man?—”

“No,” I repeat, my voice shaking. But my father acts as though I’m not even talking.

“Of course, Abe would like to court you for a little while, but marriage is obviously the next step?—”

“My girl won’t be marrying anyone but me.”

Ronan’s dark, gravelly voice rushes through my mind as I gasp, turning quickly to find him standing behind me, glaring daggers at Dad. I didn’t even hear him approach, didn’t even realize he’d woken up. But he’s here, standing up for me, defending me, claiming me.

“Excuse me?” Dad sputters, his eyes widening and his mouth dropping in absolute shock. It’s so satisfying to see that I can’t help the smile tugging at my mouth.

Ronan winds an arm around my waist, pulling me to him possessively. I lean into him, soaking up his steady presence, my mind spinning as my heart thuds so hard in my chest I think it might break free.

“You heard me,” Ronan says, his voice as steady as his body against mine.

“My daughter is not your girl, she’s not your anything!” Dad yells, his face turning purple as rage overrides his momentary shock. He points a finger at Ronan, fury radiating off him. “I don’t know what hole you crawled out of, boy, but you need to learn some respect! Step away from my daughter right this instant or?—”

“Or what?” Ronan asks, sounding genuinely curious. I slap my hand over my mouth to try to muffle my laughter, feeling giddy with amusement at their argument.

It shouldn’t be funny, but I can’t help it. All my emotions are a big jumble in my stomach, and I can’t control them anymore. I’m angry, furious really, at my dad for thinking he can just marry off to whoever’s most convenient. I’m in shock at Ronan’s declaration that the only person I’ll be marrying is him.

There’s a warm, fuzzy feeling wrapping around my heart at the determination he has in standing up to Dad, the way he doesn’t seem the least bit intimidated by him. Then again, why would he be? He didn’t grow up here and he never had to be squashed under Dad’s thumb the way I have been. Ronan is a law unto himself, and now he’s determined to protect me.

Oh God, I love him.

The realization hits me like a physical shove, and I rock back on my feet a little. Logic tells me it’s far too fast to feel that, but logic has nothing on my heart. Ronan swept into this town like the storm, and I want him to carry me away.

Dad doesn’t have an answer to Ronan’s question, standing in the doorway with his mouth gaping open and closed like a goldfish out of water.

“You cannot just … just … steal my daughter!” he finally manages to say, his pale blue gaze swinging between Ronan and me. I’ve seen Dad angry before, but I’ve never seen him so … powerless.

It makes me feel even more powerful.

“Unlike you, old man, I have no desire to control Roxie or to make her choices for her,” Ronan comments, not shouting unlike my father, but with a cool, calm threat in his tone all the same. “I want to support her, to show her just how incredible she is, to free her from the ridiculous weight of expectation you’ve shoved on her shoulders.”

I could cry at that declaration, but I refuse to let my father see any more of my tears. Ronan makes me feel like I really do have control here, like I can do anything I want.

“How dare you—” Dad starts, but I interrupt him. I’ve never dared to speak over him in my life, but as I stand there with Ronan at my side, I can feel the ties to this town, to the life I’ve been forced to lead all these years, falling away from me.

“I won’t marry Abe,” I declare, thoroughly enjoying the anger that flashes through my father’s eyes as I stand my ground. “I won’t marry anyone you try to set me up with. I’m not a pawn you can use to your advantage, Dad. I’m sick of trying to be good, of doing what I’m told even though it makes me miserable. I deserve better. I always have.”

Ronan looks down at me with pride shining in his gaze, and I burn with love and desire and admiration under his gaze.

“Don’t be ridiculous Roxie!” my father seethes. “You’re a good girl?—”

“No,” I say with finality, shaking my head as I straighten my spine. “I’m not.”

Ronan’s hand flexes on my waist. “I think you should leave,” he says coolly to my father, raising a brow at him. “Before I have to defend my girl with more than words.”

The thinly veiled threat makes Dad’s face pale. He looks between us again, and I stand my ground.

“This isn’t over,” my father spits, sneering at Ronan once more before he turns on his heel and storms away.

Ronan kicks the front door closed on my father, and immediately I jump into his arms, winding my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck.

I don’t give a single fuck what my father says or tries to do. I’m not his little girl anymore. I’m not the Roxie who tries to fit into the good girl mold this town has always tried to shove me into.

Now, I’m ready to learn who I really am.

And that starts with being Ronan Ross’ girl.