“Ow! Stop that!”
“No.” Another one, to the knee. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through? I’ve been sitting here for the past three months, wondering if this ring on my finger meant we were engaged or if it was just a pretty rock. Wondering if you would be here in ten days or ten years.”
‘Of course we’re still engaged—”
“‘Of course,’ he says. Like it was never a question. You really fucked that up, you know that?”
He shielded his face with a hand and took a step toward me. “Aye, yeah, I’m starting to see that. Stop throwing fucking rocks at me so I can apologize!”
Several rocks this time. “No. You can damn well apologize while I’m throwing shit at you, because you deserve it. You broke me, Brodie. You don’t get to just ride in here on your sexy motorcycle and sweep me off my feet again. Even if you did defeat the villain.”
His dimple flickered in his cheek and took another step. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Stop that,” I said weakly.
“Stop what?”
“Stop fucking smiling.” A rock fell from my hand to land with a light thud on the tip of my riding boot. God, I was throwing things. Like a child thwarted from having their sucker. Opening my hand, I let the rest tumble to the ground and placed my hands on my hips. Looking away, toward the house, I started walking. “I need to think.”
Several strides brought Brodie to stand in front of me. “Think while I’m holding you.”
“You’re blocking my path, Brodie.”
He reached out and placed both of his large palms on my cheeks, tilting my face up to his. “Think while I’m kissing you.”
“It doesn’t work—” My response was cut short by his mouth on mine, that mouth I hadn’t seen or felt or touched in three long months. His tongue darted out to lick at the seam of my lips and I opened, feeling him breathe into me at the same moment I gasped. My eyelids drifted closed, and my hands hung limp at my sides while his kiss made amends with sweet insistence.
But it wasn’t enough.
I put space between us with a firm hand on his chest and fixed my gaze on the white breadth of cotton in front of me, watching it rise and fall steadily with his breath. “Where is Donegal now? Did he let you…leave? Permanently?”
“Donegal handed the reins over to Kael,” he replied gently. “He let him determine the course of my discipline.”
“So that means Kael…?”
“Yes. Kael is now King, and while he wants me to continue in his employ, it is his desire to do things differently. He won’t be accepting contracts on just anyone, for instance. He wants, as much as is possible, to go legitimate.”
“Oh.”
More hovered on my tongue, but I closed my lips around the words. I was my mother’s daughter, I supposed, more so than I had ever realized. Hurt, or rejected, or abandoned, my modus operandi was to crawl into myself to prevent the possibility of it happening again.
Brodie reached with his other hand and took mine in his. “You’re still wearing it,” he said, running his thumb lightly over the surface of the emerald on my hand.
I rolled my tongue into my cheek. “It’s pretty.”
“Um-hmm.” Taking a chance, he stepped in closer. His patient persistence reminded me of Jacks working with a skittish horse.Step. Pause. Gentle. Assess. Step.
“I am sorry, Em.”
My throat closed and I breathed harshly through my nose. “Forgiven.”
“I love you,macushla.”
A stifled sob rose and the control I was gripping fled. “I love you, too! You asshole! But what does that even mean? You loved me before, and I loved you. I need more. Are you here for good? Here for an hour, or a day? Are you here to love me forever or break my heart all over again? Because I can’t do that, Brodie. I can’t—” Tears rolled unchecked down my cheeks and with a curse Brodie pulled me wholly against him, one hand still cupping the back of my head and the other curled around my waist.
“I’m here for keeps,” he murmured into my hair. I punched him, unable to keep myself from doing so, and he held me tighter, pinning my fists between us. “I swear it. I’m here. Kael knows I’m yours. Just let me in, Emery, and be part of my world, as well, we’ll never be apart again. I promise.”
I sniffed and lifted my face to study his eyes. They stared intently into mine, earnest and so full of love it made my breath catch. “Never be apart again, huh? That might get a little old, don’t you think?”
“Never.” He kissed me lightly, then pulled away and walked the few feet to the leather bags on his bike. “I brought you something.” Reaching into the bag, he pulled out an object wrapped carefully in several layers of paper and handed it to me.
“Wha—” The word trailed away as I unwrapped the gift to see the mug I had broken. I had begun the painstaking process of fixing it, but hadn’t finished when Carson attacked. I turned it over in my hand, studying the web of fine gray lines that snaked through its cream hue. It had been reglazed, and was as strong, if not stronger, than it had been before. “You finished it,” I whispered.
“’Twas a pain in the ass, too,” he muttered, dipping his head and capturing my lips in a kiss I felt clean to my knees. “But worth it.” My head and heart spun and danced as he held me, the mug clutched between us like a precious offering. In a way, it was. It was me, smashed and broken, but mended into something scarred but stronger. I felt his knowledge in his kiss, his understanding that I hadn’t restored me, and neither had he. We had done it. Together. He was my savior and my sword, my hero and my servant. His kiss spoke apologies and love and forever straight to my soul, and when he lifted his mouth from mine, I was new again.
