His hand finds mine across the table.“We can do that together,” he assures me, voice steady and sure.“Are you ready to tell them or would you like to wait?”
“I don’t see the point of waiting.I don’t plan to get unmarried,” I answer.“Do you?”
“No,” Cassius says, and squeezes my fingers before bringing them to his lips.He kisses them gently before adding, “I never plan to get unmarried.You’re it for me.I can’t imagine not having you now that you’re mine.”
“Let’s call them tomorrow then,” I say.Somewhere in the reflective dark of the window, Gideon touches two fingers to his brim.Good luck, kid.I pretend I don’t see him.
“Do you think they’ll take it well?”
“I think they’ll be shocked and have a lot of questions, but ultimately they’ll support me, support us.”
As we exitLuminara, Cassius' hand on my back is a steady presence.I suddenly realize something else amidst the whirl of lunch and confessions.“I didn't see Logan anywhere.Wasn't he supposed to meet us?”I ask, scanning the area as if expecting to find him lurking nearby.
Cassius opens the car door for me before answering, “He was there, keeping a discreet eye on things and giving us privacy.”
I nod, reassured yet slightly amused at the thought of Logan shadowing us unseen.“I hope he managed to grab something to eat, at least,” I muse, slipping into the car seat.
“Logan’s job is to keep you safe.He doesn’t need you worrying over him.”He starts the engine, voice dropping.“Save that for me.”
“I always worry about you.”I can’t help the smile—big, scary killer, hoarding my attention.
“Only me,” he says, satisfied.
A laugh slips out of me that’s loud, helpless, and entirely his fault.
As Cassius pulls up to my office building, the reality of returning to my daily routine after an hour of him is surreal.
“Thank you for lunch,” I say, my hand on the door handle.
Cassius reaches out, his hand covering mine.“Can I drive your car home?I’ll pick you up once you're done at work.When I’m home I’d like to drive you back and forth.”
“Are you sure?”That seems like a lot of unnecessary back and forth on his end when I have my own car.
“I’m positive,” Cassius says.“My fear of scaring you away forced me to suppress a lot.”
“A lot of what?”
“Possessive tendencies.”
“Give me everything you got.”
“Remember, I'm just a call away if you need anything.”
He kisses my knuckles and is gone, taillights sliding into daylight.In the glass doors I catch myself alone and not alone.Wyatt leans beside my reflection.Gideon waits behind my shoulder.I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, left, right.Tuck it a third time and step inside.
eighteen
I don’t waitat the curb.
Five-o’clock heat bleeds through the revolving door when I step into Silver State Publishing.I wanted to ditch my suit after lunch for a black tee, dark denim, and motorcycle boots, but I kept the suit knowing I’d walk into Lindy’s office.It’s black, perfectly pressed, with the red tie she once said she likes.I keep my stride civilian, hands visible, shoulders easy, and knife-edge tucked away under my suit jacket.
The receptionist blinks up at me.“Can I help you?”
“I’m here for Melinda Ashenheart,” I say.
A beat of confusion.She checks the directory.“I don’t have an Ashenheart.”
“Westbrook,” I correct.“Melinda Westbrook.”
