But this was different. Because as tough as the Australian chick was trying to be—not trying to be, she was one tough bitch—I knew underneath all of that anger was hurt too. She loved Nora. Fiercely. Enough to come out here, willing to go toe to toe with me. Enough to hurt when she saw her friend being taken apart, and unable to do anything about it.

“If you’re looking for a damsel in distress, you can piss right off,” she narrowed her eyes on me. “She’s saved herself. From shit you couldn’t even imagine. So, if you’re looking to fix her life for her… look around, buddy.” She waved at the bakery behind us. “She’s done that too. She doesn’t need you. And if that’s why you want her, then go. Now. Because I’m not gonna sit on the sidelines this time when a man tries to cut her down so he can stand taller, pretending he's lifting her up too.”

“You done?” I asked her when she didn’t speak for a few seconds.

She scowled at me. “If you hurt her, I’ll peel the skin from your face and roast it on my barbeque in front of you.”

I nodded, trying very hard to restrain my urge to smile. Not because she was trying to be funny… She was dead fucking serious, which was why I needed to smile. It made me happy as shit that Nora had someone to go to bat for her like this. Said a lot about the kind of person Nora was.

“Wouldn’t expect anything less,” I told her. “Get why you want to protect her. She deserves that. Also get men are assholes. I’ve been one in my time.”

I inwardly winced, thinking about how badly I’d treated women when I first got home. I never had nor would I ever put a hand on a woman. But that didn’t mean I hadn’t hurt them. By using them. Being callous, cruel because I needed sex to silence my nightmares but also couldn’t handle another human being near me.

I regained my focus on Fiona. “But I’m not gonna hurt her.” It was a promise. More to myself than Fiona.

She stared at me intently, measuring my words, weighing them. I suspected that Nora didn’t have a whole lot of experience when it came to men, and it seemed—from what Fiona told me and from the small amount of Nora I’d experienced—that she was trusting. Kind. She didn’t expect men to lie to her.

Fiona did. Because she knew us too well. And she knew most men were in the habit of making promises in order to get what they wanted.

She nodded slowly after a long silence. “Fine,” she relented. “But I’ve got my eye on you.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

NORA

When Rowan walked through the door, I lost my breath. My heart hammered in my chest, my knees trembled. My lips burned with the reminder that he had been kissing me this morning.