He slipped out just as Gunner arrived at the door. I braced myself for a scene, but he only looked at me—hard, hungry, and with something else, too: a worry so sharp it almost hurt to meet his gaze.
He didn’t say anything at first. Just pulled me into his arms and kissed me, long and thorough, like we were both starving. I clung to him, fingers twisted in his shirt, the world shrinking down to the feel of his body against mine and the taste of coffee and salt on his lips.
When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against mine. “You okay, Maverick?”
The nickname made me melt. “Yeah,” I said, voice small. “Just…rough day.”
He nodded, thumb brushing my cheekbone. “Saw his hand on you.” His tone was even, but I caught the flare of jealousy in the line of his jaw.
I sighed. “Lysander’s not a threat, Finn. He’s gay, youknowthis. For another, he’s my friend.”
Gunner’s lips twitched, almost a smile. “He touched you.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “He’s a toucher, apparently. It’s all platonic, I swear.”
He wrapped me tighter, like he could squeeze the doubt out of both of us. “You’re mine, Brie. I don’t share what belongs to me. Don’t forget that.”
I buried my face in his neck. “I won’t. Sometimes I wish I could crawl into your skin and just stay there.”
He shivered, then lifted my chin, so I had to meet his eyes. “That’s a dangerous thing to say to a man like me.”
“Good. I like your dangerousness. And I love you.”
He kissed me again, slower this time. When he broke away, he cupped my face in both hands. “You tell me if anyone bothers you. I mean it.”
“I will. Promise.”
He seemed satisfied, but he gave the office a quick scan anyway. “You’re safe here?”
“Safest place in the world,” I said, only halfway believing it.
He grunted, then kissed me once more, just a quick press of lips, and headed back down the stairs. I watched him do a full sweep of the gallery, pausing to test the locks and eye every shadow. When he was done, he returned to the base of the stairs and called up, “I’ll be back at six, Maverick. Be ready to eat.”
“You got it, cowboy.”
He left, the air buzzing in his wake.
I flopped into my comfy chair, heart racing. Lysander poked his head in a minute later, eyebrow arched.
“Everything good?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Just security detail.”
He laughed. “You’re lucky. Some of us have to hire men that hot by the hour.”
I snorted, then looked back at the guest list. For once, the numbers didn’t matter. I could only count the hours until dinner at Pearl’s, and then—if I was lucky—another night tangled up with Gunner, safe from everything except my own craving.
This was my life now: work, worry, hunger, heat.
I wouldn’t have traded it for the world.
Chapter 16
Gunner
Itried to play it cool all the way to Pearl’s, but the truth was, my nerves were shot to hell. Most of that came down to Lysander—the smooth-talking, platinum-haired gallery rep who’d nearly bled out on the floor for Brie. I’d spent the better part of twenty-four hours trying to get my head around why that made me want to snap something in half. The man wasn’t even competition, not by any stretch of the imagination. Lysander was gay—like, museum-grade gay. He was the kind of guy where he’d see a shirtless man and ask what moisturizer he uses. The kind where he’d walk into a biker bar and immediately rearrange the barstools because the spacing “felt emotionally off.”
And even if he weren’t gay, he’d have to be clinically insane to want to tangle with my mate. But logic had never been my strong suit when it came to women, and jealousy was a bastard that crept in like kudzu. It didn’t matter if it was rational—it was mine, and I owned it.
