“Everything’s going to be okay,” he says, and his voice carries absolute certainty. Like he’s making a vow. A promise. “The boys will be fine. You’ll be fine. We’ll figure this out. All of it. Together.”
I let myself believe him. Let the tension drain from my shoulders as I close my eyes and just breathe. Breathe in the scent of him—coffee and gunpowder and something darker, something that’s uniquely Jace. Safe. Dangerous. Home.
His other hand comes up to cup my cheek, thumb brushing along my cheekbone with devastating gentleness. The kind of touch that says you’re mine to protect, mine to cherish, mine.
When I open my eyes, I realize how close we are. His face inches from mine, close enough that I can see the flecks of darker blue in his irises, the faint scar above his eyebrow from some long-ago fight.
My gaze drops to his lips. His drops to mine.
Heat spreads across my skin like wildfire. My breath catches. His hand on my cheek tightens slightly, fingers threading into my hair at the nape of my neck.
We’re moving closer. I don’t know who started it—maybe both of us, maybe neither of us, maybe gravity itself is pulling us together. We share a single breath, suspended in this moment where everything else falls away, and there’s just him and me and six years of wanting?—
The comm system crackles to life.
“Everyone good?” Charles’s voice filters through the speakers, cheerful and completely oblivious.
Jace and I jerk apart like we’ve been electrocuted. His arm drops from around me. I slide back to my side of the seat, putting crucial distance between us even though Charles can’t see us, can’t possibly know what almost just happened.
My face is on fire. My heart is trying to escape through my throat.
In the rearview mirror, I catch Cal’s amber eyes. There’s a smirk there—not on his face, but definitely in his eyes. That knowing look that saysI saw that. I saw everything.
Silas glances back at me over his shoulder, and the look he gives me—dark and possessive and hungry—makes me bite my lip as heat pools low in my belly. Want. Need. So many years of denial crashing into the present moment with the force of a freight train.
I clear my throat and look away, trying to compose myself.
“Peachy,” Cal responds to Charles, and I can hear the amusement threaded through his voice. “Parker’s only mildly terrified.”
“I’m not—” I start, but my voice comes out breathless. Wrecked. I clear it again. “I’m fine.”
Charles laughs, completely unaware of what he interrupted. “It’s just the quarterly review meeting. Boring stuff mostly. Financial reports, operational updates.” A pause. “Oh, and Ryan Matthews will be there.”
Who?
“Um,” I say, grateful for something else to focus on. Anything else. “Okay.”
“I don’t think it’ll be a problem seeing you,” Charles continues, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “I mean, it’s not your fault his family moved out of state after he asked you out at graduation.”
“He asked me out?” I frown, trying to remember through the haze of lingering heat still coursing through my veins. “I thought he just—wait, he moved?”
“Scholarship,” Charles says. “Out of nowhere, apparently. Very sudden.”
In the front seat, Cal’s hands tighten slightly on the steering wheel. Silas goes very still, his jaw clenching in profile.
Beside me, Jace shifts—not closer, not touching, but I can feel the tension radiating off him. The barely controlled restraint that replaced the heat from thirty seconds ago.
“I barely remember him,” I say honestly. “It was graduation night. Everything was chaos.”
“Correct,” Charles’s voice filters through. “His brother stepped down last month. Ryan’s taking over the entire East Coast shipping network. Smart kid. Well, not a kid anymore. He’s got to be, what, thirty-one now?”
“Thirty-two,” Jace says, his voice carefully neutral.
“How do you—” I start, but stop. Because the pieces are clicking together. The way Cal’s knuckles are white on the wheel. The way Silas’s jaw is clenched like he’s physically restraining words. The way Jace knows exactly how old Ryan Matthews is.
“Whatever,” I say, shaking my head. Ancient history. Easier to focus on than what almost just happened in this back seat. “What else is on the docket today?”
“After the quarterly review, I want you to accompany Jace when he meets with the Dents, the Ramirezes, and the McCoys,” Charles says. “Standard check-ins, but they’ll want to meet you officially. The Dents run the restaurant group—five establishments, all legitimate fronts but also useful for laundering and hosting private meetings. Maria Ramirez handles the luxury car dealership network—high-end vehicles,but more importantly, she’s got connections with half the politicians in the state. Good for favors, intel, and legal maneuvering. And the McCoys own the club circuit—three venues, excellent for surveillance and information gathering. Plus, they move a significant amount of cash through legitimate business channels.”
