Something shifts in my chest at the desperate tone creeping into his voice.
I kiss him more gently, stroking the sides of his face.
My big strong Brute.
I don’t know what memory I just evoked in him, but whatever it was, it wasn’t a good one. He keeps kissing me, his body crushed to mine like he can’t bear to let me go.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers.
He opens his eyes, and I gaze at the flash of something hiding in their depths. He looks so lost. So broken for a second before he blinks it away. Maybe it’s the love he lost years ago, Dixie’s mom. Maybe not. But either way I recognize the look in his eyes because I’ve seen the same one in mine every day since I lost the people I loved too.
Maybe we’re both lost in grief.
I press another kiss to his lips, and he relaxes, sinking into me.
“It’s okay,” I whisper. “It’s okay.”
30
SINCLAIR
“Feel good to be back?”
I glance at Killian as I place Monty’s breakfast bowl down for him and fuss him as he trots over to eat.
“Yeah. I mean the peace was nice. Denver’s place is in the middle of nowhere. But I’m not going to lie, I’m glad to have Wi-Fi back.”
Killian chuckles as I move around the living area, packing what I need for my runway show into my bag. We got back yesterday, and after dropping me home, Denver showed me how to use my new security system he had installed while we were away, and then he left. My father wanted to have a meeting with him. I haven’t seen him since. Even with Monty in bed with me last night, it still felt empty. Killian came over this morning to be my backup for the day incase whatever Denver’s doing takes longer than anticipated.
“They’re here.” Killian pockets his phone after reading the text that just came through.
Butterflies erupt in my stomach. I’m being stupid. It’s one night since I saw him. One. Yet I’m buzzing with electricity now he’s close by.
A few minutes later, there’s a knock at my apartment door, but I let Killian answer it as I move into the kitchen.
Deep rumbles of voices flow down from the hallway, and I clench my thighs together at the deepest one.
“Hey, Sinclair.”
I turn, smiling at Jenson as he walks into the room.
“Hey.” My eyes immediately move from him to the giant, dark and brooding hulk behind him.
Denver’s back in his usual uniform of dark suit and tie, white shirt, gun on his belt… and a serious expression that gives nothing away and just makes him look pissed.
Jenson starts talking to Killian as Denver and I stare at one another. His brows lower over his intense gaze, and something about how cold and detached he is makes me spin back around under the pretense of fixing the drinks I’m making.
I swallow, my throat thick. I recognize that look. He’s all business, looking at me like I’m his client.
He clears his throat. “Sinclair? We need to leave in the next five minutes to make it to your show on time.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, keeping my back to him. That voice. Those instructions, spoken without any warmth. So clinical. Detached. If he’s going to try and tell me we have to stop this, like he did before I ran from him in the forest, I don’t know what I’ll do. Smack him in the mouth, perhaps? Or burst into tears. The way my heart’s racing right now, either is possible.
He can’t expect now we’re back in the city, we’re going to just ignore what happened.
Goosebumps prick up along my upper arms as his breath hits the back of my neck. He’s moved so close that the heat from his body seeps through my vest and makes me burn. The sound of his tongue wetting his lips as he leans closer, keeping his voice low so Jenson and Killian can’t hear, makes a shiver run up my spine.
“I missed you,” he breathes.
