“Be careful, Mom.” He straightened and stormed toward the table, the muscles in his back flexing and hardening. He raised an arm and, for a fearful moment, Liv thought he might sweep all the dishes to the floor. He snagged the gaudy ceramic rooster centerpiece. “Apologize to her or the rooster’s gonna get it.”

Liv bit back her smile and tried to imagine how her mom would’ve reacted to catching her in bed with him. She honestly didn’t know and that realization tugged at her chest. She was a seventeen-year-old virgin when Van took her. Her relationship with Mom had never reached this kind of trial, and it never would.

Emily fanned her fingers over her breastbone and flicked her eyes to Liv. “I’m sorry. It’s just…my boy’s going to be a minister. He has schooling and farm work. He doesn’t have time for—”

“That was an embarrassing apology, Mom.” He set the rooster on the table and strode toward Liv with wide steps, his eyes roaming her face. Placing his hands on the wall on either side of her head, he leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I love you.”

Her heart wobbled. “Love you, too.”

“Let me remind you that you’re not married.” Daniel rested his forearms on the table. “Tell me this was the only time you…shared a bed.”

Liv sagged against the wall. Their son was kidnapped and trained as a sex slave. Jesus, they were in serious fucking denial about his captivity.

Josh turned and hooked a thumb in his belt loop. “I love her, Dad.” He pointed at her. “And I’m sharing a bed with her every which way to Sunday. Because I. Love. Her.”

Daniel paled, and Emily gasped, her face crumpling. “You need to go to church. And you need to finish your religious studies.”

He let out a booming laugh. “No amount of church is going to keep me from sleeping with her.”

Liv pressed a fist to her lips, her chest swelling. She wanted to kiss him for standing up to his parents, but her stomach sank as she considered what it might do to his relationship with them.

“You’ve changed.” Emily straightened her spine and pursed her lips. “That man who took you put something bad in you. You need help, Joshua.”

He raked a hand through his hair and groaned. “I need her.” He sat in the chair beside Emily, turning it to face her. “I’ll finish school. When I’m ready. I’ll worship God. On my own terms. As for the farm, I’ll help you financially.” He twisted and met Liv’s eyes over his shoulder. One dark eyebrow lifted.

Oh God, he wanted her to step in here? They already hated her. She rubbed her forearm, wrinkling her forehead. He wanted her support, and she had a sure way to give it to him.

Two confident strides put her behind his chair. She rested her hands on his shoulders. “I inherited some money when my mom died.” She rubbed her thumbs over the skin on his back. “We’ll leave you with more than enough to retire.”

Daniel stiffened, his eyes on Josh. “What is she saying? You’re not leaving.”

“I am.” His shoulders rolled back.

“You will not disobey me.” Daniel jumped up, his face red. “You’re not leaving. That’s final.”

Josh stood with his hands in his pockets, chin lowered, and his body angled toward his parents, but his eyes cut to the side and met hers. A small smile played around his lips. “No more requirements.”

She swallowed around a lump of guilt and moved to stand beside him.

He reached for her hand and looked at his dad. “I’m not leaving you. I’m leaving your rules.”

He was telling his dad, man-to-man, how he was going to live his life. She was certain he’d never done that before. She wished his parents could see what she saw. Joshua Carter would never be enchained by someone else’s rules. He was a man of strong convictions. His own convictions.

Emily sagged against the chair back. “You don’t even have a car.”

“I’m taking the bike.”

Chapter 47

Josh moved through his bedroom with a high-energy buzz and an overwhelming lightness in his chest. Before Liv, his path was narrow and predetermined. Now it was a wide open field that reached the horizon and beyond. He wanted to fling his arms up, break out into a run, and whoop like an idiot.

Liv lingered by the door with a gleam in her eyes and a smile struggling to punch through her stern expression. “What bike?” She closed the door and crossed her arms. “I stalked you for weeks. I would remember a bike.”

He transferred her clothes from the grocery bag to his backpack. “I’ve got an engine strapped to two wheels.”

“That sounds safe.” She arched an eyebrow.

Said the girl who threw herself out of airplanes. He grinned. “I started putting it together out in the shed when I was fourteen. Old school pipes. Uber fat tires. It has enough torque to make my parents stutter through their prayers.”

She joined him at the bed and helped him fit her clothes in the bag. “They wouldn’t let you ride it.”

“Nope.” Not even slow in the driveway. “But it still runs. I fired it up yesterday when you were in the shower.”

She stuffed the last shirt in and put her hands on her hips, staring at the sum of every possession she owned. “Where are we going?”

He opened a drawer and tossed a few shirts, briefs, and jeans on the bed. “We need to go to a bank, open an account, and transfer your funds. We need phones so my parents can call us. Oh, and helmets for the bike.” He sidled in front of her, prompting her to look up and meet his eyes. “We can go to Austin and live near Livana. Or we could call Camila. You think they have room for two more in their house?”

“Nine adults in one house?” She threw her head back and laughed, her gorgeous brown eyes alight with amusement.

Probably not the best idea, especially given the way the guys tracked her every move. “Tonight…” He wrapped his arms around her lower back and squeezed her addictive backside. “We’re staying in a hotel with no keypads and no parents and…” He scanned his room, his attention snagging on the hook behind his door. That would work. He released her, grabbed a leather belt from the hook, and held it out to her. “And this.” She could strap him to the bed or shackle his wrists or whip his backside. A pulse of warmth curled through his groin. He needed to buy more belts.

She took the one from his hand, folded it, and whacked her palm. Her upturned face glowed, her soft cheekbones curving with her smile. “You want me to beat your ass, you dirty slut?”

Her cool voice sent a shiver down his spine and stiffened his penis to a throbbing hard-on. “Yes, Mistress.”

She twisted her fingers through the hair at his nape, her long lashes blinking slowly. Then she pulled him down for a kiss that tunneled his vision and rocked his hips. She released him and stepped back. “Finish packing.”

He adjusted himself and returned to his dresser for one more thing. Digging beneath the clothes he would leave behind, he pulled out his favorite childhood toy. He clutched her wrist and set it on her palm. “I want you to have this.”

Her slim eyebrows pulled together, her face arranged in an adorable expression. “A Rubik’s Cube?”

The square stickers peeled at the edges, each of the six sides grouped by color. “I solved it when I was eight.” He laughed, shaking his head at the memory. “Took me a year. I refused to undo it after I figured it out.”

“Wow.” She stared at it, confusion lingering on her face.

“It wasn’t the satisfaction of solving it that was meaningful. It was the experience in pursuing an endeavor of my choosing. I never found another puzzle I connected to the way I did with this one.” He touched her chin, held her eyes. “Until you.”

She clutched the cube to her chest and pulled his forehead to hers. “Thank you.”

He kissed her nose. “My jersey number was based on that cube. There’s fifty-four squares.”