“Your papers,” I said, not making any move to release her hands or step back.
She glanced briefly at the papers now decorating the grass like oversized confetti. “They’ll wait.”
My arms slid around her waist naturally, like they belonged there.
“I’d like to take you to dinner tonight and tomorrow night. And every night after that, if you’ll let me.”
She laughed, the vibration through her chest into mine, where we touched. Her hands came to rest on my chest. “That sounds like more than just dinner.”
I tightened my hold on her waist just slightly, enough to draw her closer. “It is. It’s everything. I’m not asking you to trust me anymore. I’m promising you can.”
Her fingers curled slightly into the fabric of my shirt. “Everything, huh? That’s a lot to promise on a random Tuesday afternoon.”
“I’ve been heading here since that holding cell. I just took the scenic route.” I chuckled.
I pressed my forehead to hers, our breaths mingling in the small space between us. Her eyes were so close I could see every fleck of gold and amber in the deep brown, every question and answer swirling there.
“I don’t want anything fragile. I’ve had enough broken things in my life.”
I tightened my grip on her waist and lifted her just enough for her feet to leave the ground. She let out a small sound of surprise and grabbed my shoulders for balance. I held her there, my strength matching her lightness.
“What we survived—federal detention, government watchlists, both of us trying to protect each other by staying apart—I’d say we’re anything but fragile. We’re iron forged in fire, Nia. That’s us.” I set her back down gently, keeping my arms around her.
She stood on her tiptoes, moving her hands from my chest to my face, cupping my jaw gently. Then she kissed me, right there on the campus green as students walked by and faculty glanced our way. She kissed me like we were just two people who had fought hard to find each other, not caring who saw.
Her lips were soft against mine, but there was nothing cautious in the way she claimed me. When she finally pulled back, just far enough to speak, we were both breathing harder, hands still holding on like the other might disappear if we let go.
“Pick me up at seven, and Ronan? Don’t be late,” she said, her voice husky.
She bent down to gather her scattered papers; the movement gave me a view that temporarily short-circuited my brain. When she straightened, arms full of papers and wildflowers, there was a smile playing at the corners of her mouth that was pure mischief.
“And bring an overnight bag. I don’t plan on letting you leave.”
My body responded instantly to her words, a rush of heat that had nothing to do with the Alabama sun beating down on us. “Yes, ma’am,” was all I could manage, earning another of those laughs I was quickly becoming addicted to.
She backed away a few steps, still facing me, like she couldn’t quite bring herself to turn around just yet. “I have office hours until five.”
“I’ll be there at seven, on the dot,” I promised.
“See that you are.” With one last smile that held promises of its own, she turned and walked away, her sundress bright against the green of the campus, her bare feet now slipped back into sandals she’d gathered from the grass.
I watched her go, admiring the confidence in her stride, the way she held her head high like a queen surveying her domain. Students parted for her as she passed, some greeting her,and she answered with warm familiarity. Dr. Price was in her element, respected, admired, and powerful in her own right.
And tonight, she’d be waiting for me, Ronan, the man she’d seen beneath the uniform from that first moment in the holding cell.
For the first time since we met, there were no barriers between us, no badge, no watchlist, no fear, nothing keeping us apart.
I turned toward the parking lot, already calculating out how long it would take to get home, shower, pack an overnight bag, and make dinner reservations somewhere special. Seven o’clock couldn’t come fast enough.
17
NIA
Ronan held the door for me, and his eyes did that slow-burn appreciation thing that made my skin heat up. I’d picked this burgundy wrap dress knowing damn well what it did for my curves. The way his gaze lingered on me still sent a flutter through my stomach like I was a schoolgirl on her first date instead of a grown woman who’d spent the last two hours debating which earrings would complement the dress and my hair just right.
“You going to stare all night, or are we going inside?” I teased, enjoying the way his eyes snapped back up to meet mine, that slight caught-in-the-act smile making an appearance.
He placed his hand at the small of my back as we stepped inside, the warmth of his palm radiating through the thin fabric of my dress. “Can’t I do both?”
