“I could have gone on my own,” I said as I removed my own holster and gun.
“Like hell,” he growled. He sat on the sofa to remove his boots.
I wasn’t offended. He knew I was capable. He was just worried about me going alone. Just like I would’ve been worried about him.
“You need to go to bed,” I said as I left my gun on the nightstand and crossed the room to him.
He patted the seat next to him. “Sit with me for a moment and enjoy the view.” He stretched his arm along the back of the sofa.
I sat, not surprised when his arm slid down to settle across my shoulders. I wasn’t used to this either. Keith had never been a cuddler, and before him, I’d made sure to steer clear of men who were touchy-feely. But this didn’t feel like cuddling. It felt deeper, like we both needed the physical touch to know this was real. Or at least that’s how it was for me. Since James didn’t seem like the cuddly type, I could only presume it was the same for him.
I settled into his side, reveling in the warmth of simply being with him, alone, after sitting next to each other in the car with Alex, then at the club.
We sat in silence for several minutes, looking out at the lights of North Little Rock across the river and the glow of the pedestrian bridge.
“Do you think Dani will come through with the videos?” he murmured against my hair.
“I don’t see how,” I said, disappointment settling in the pit of my stomach. “Most places don’t keep tapes that long.”
“I keep mine for ninety days. At the tavern and back in Fenton County.”
“The strip club?”
“That too. I also had a pool hall.”
I turned around to face him in surprise. “How did I not know you had a pool hall?”
A smug grin twisted his lips. “Your investigation of me must not have been very thorough.”
“I guess not since I didn’t know you were a weapons dealer,” I said dryly.
He brow lifted. “You knew I was in organized crime. What did you think I did?”
“Drugs. You were working with an international drug cartel.”
“I was working to bring down an international drug cartel.” He made a face. “I didn’t deal with drugs.”
“You’re telling me one of the poorest counties in the state didn’t have drugs,” I said dryly. “That kind of situation is ripe for drug activity.”
“Someone else in the area ran drugs, then he was arrested and eventually killed. Another guy took over.” He sighed. “You’re right. People who are poor and without hope need an escape. Denny Cartwright gave it to ’em.”
“And you condoned it?” I countered.
“Who am I to tell people how they should escape their shitty lives,” he said with a hint of arrogance. “Nature abhors a vacuum, and when Daniel Crocker’s organization fell apart, Denny took over.”
“Why didn’t you take over?” I asked, trying to understand.
He held my gaze for a moment. “Just because people wanted to escape didn’t mean I was going to give them the poison to do it.”
“But you provided guns and bullets to people who likely had no business with them.”
He sighed, closing his eyes again. “You know I’m not a saint. Maybe I’m not proud of all the things I’ve done, but there’s no changin’ the past, and to be honest, I wouldn’t change all of it. Everything in my past is what got me here today.” He squeezed my shoulder. “With you.”
He had a point about all of it. I knew he’d been a crime boss. And sure, I’d figured illegal activity and murder had been part of that, but I’d lumped it into his involvement with the FBI to bring down the Hardshaw Group. How could I have forgotten that he’d had decades of criminal behavior before that?
“How are you feelin’ about me now?” he asked, his eyes still closed.
“It’s complicated,” I admitted.
