We stay like that—bodies pressed together and standing in the kitchen, waiting for Pascal and his team to search through and clear the rest of the apartment. Aside from passing off the envelope, we’re quiet, and I, for one, am just reveling in the fact that everyone is safe.
And that this shit might finally be done.
“Is River still coming here?” she asks as the activity begins to wane.
“No,” I say, forcing myself to release her. I stride over to the closet, pulling out a broom and dustpan so I can clean up the remains of the chair. “Thorn took her home.”
Her lips twitch.
And for the first time in hours, mine do too.
“It’s about time he got his head out of his ass,” she says.
“I know,” I agree. “Though, almost losing a good woman will do that to a man.”
She catches my hand, fingers squeezing mine tight. “Thank you,” she whispers.
“For what?”
“For fighting for us. For loving me.” A sigh, her head resting against my arm. “For justbeinghere.”
My heart rolls over in my chest, exposing its vulnerable underbelly.
But I know, without a doubt, this woman will protect it, cherish it, fight for it right back.
“Always,” I rasp.
Then, as one, we move to the door and clean up the mess.
The door is fucked, the frame will need to be replaced.
But that’s a problem for another day. For tonight?—
“Jean-Michel offered to let us stay at his place.”
She dumps the contents of the dustpan in the trash and looks up at me. “Is that what you want?”
“As long as we’re safe, I don’t care where we sleep.”
Pretty blue eyes hold mine, and I see the answer in those cerulean depths even before she murmurs, “Then I think it’s time for us to go home.”
“As you wish.”
Her mouth quirks. “God, I love you.”
There my heart goes again, so full of love for this woman, of pride and need, of relief that she’s safe and hope for the future we’re going to build together that Ihaveto draw her against me and kiss her with everything I’m feeling.
It takes a while and it isn’t the right time or the right place—case in point, the wolf whistles that come from Pascal’s men as they move around the space—but I don’t care.
Because the woman I love is back in my arms.
And I’m never letting go.
Hours later,we’re back in our bedroom, the estate quiet and sprawling around us.
Exhaustion had me dropping into sleep almost the moment my head hit the pillow and my arms were back around her, andit feels like only moments later before she’s carefully shifting out of my hold.
I expect to hear her pad to the bathroom.
