There is nothing I love more than being inside Daisy McKinnon, but not now. Not in her condition. No matter what my sex-starved penis wants.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t press my lips against hers and kiss her breathless. Because I do. And even though she moans into my mouth, I stand firm. Pulling my lips away, I rest my forehead against hers. “Sleep, baby.”
“Please?” she begs.
“Don’t make this harder for me than it already is. You need to rest.”
I roll her back to her side of the bed and stack her pillows up under her leg, making sure she’s comfortable.
Holding onto one another, our desperation for each other is palpable. But I’m not crossing any lines until she’s medically cleared.
And to be honest... being her dirty little secret is far from a turn on.
I want all of her.
I won’t stop until I have it.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Daisy
“That one.” I point to the third picture in the line of six in front of me. “That’s him.”
I’d know his face anywhere. I see it every time I close my eyes. Hell, I see his charming smile whenever I’m not distracted by Owen.
And distract me, he has.
Instead of making me call my family, Owen took my phone away and served me breakfast in bed before insisting we spend time outside while the weather was still good. Waiting for us on the patio table were various games from our childhood and a one-thousand-piece puzzle of four-leaf clovers. There was a blanket for each of us to keep warm on the sunny, yet crisp October morning.
We played Battleship, Connect Four, and Monopoly. He beat me at Battleship and I was the Connect Four champion. Monopoly was simply too tedious. There was no end in sight, so we gave up. That damn puzzle got the best of both of us. Everypiece looked the same. After five minutes, we looked at each other and burst out in a fit of laughter.
The day was perfect.
Because of Owen.
He knew I was anxious about our impending visit from the authorities, and he made sure I was too busy to worry about it. He hasn’t left my side since a knock on the door announced the two agents working on my case arrived.
I’ve answered their questions about my first connection with Wesley on the dating app, planning our date and then everything from the day of my fall. They’ve asked if anything felt off and I was embarrassed to admit it didn’t. Two minutes ago, they brought out a book of photos and I found Wesley’s face staring back at me on page three.
“You’re sure, Ms. McKinnon?” the shorter of the two female agents asks.
“Yes, I’m certain. That’s Wesley. Well, the man who said his name was Wesley.”
“Thank you,” the taller of the two says. “This is what we need to move forward. Please be rest assured we have a team working diligently on this case.”
“That’s good to hear. Is there anything else I can help with?”
“No, this was the piece we needed. We’ve been in touch with the dating app, and they provided us with his archived profile. I assure you the pieces are falling together. You just confirmed we’re looking in the right places.”
“I’ve got contacts at the Massachusetts State Police who may provide more information,” Owen says.
“We’ll look into it. Text me your contacts and we’ll be in touch.”
They stand, and Owen walks them to the door. The three of them are deep in conversation, and I let them have it. The morewe talk about my fall, the more my anxiety attempts to suffocate me.
Trying not to hyperventilate, I rush to the kitchen to get a glass of water and guzzle it down, only to fill it up again. Once my second glass is down and my lungs fill with air again, I lean against the kitchen counter to catch my breath and take in the scattered snapshots on Owen’s refrigerator. There’s a picture of him and his little sister Olivia on their horses at his family’s property and one of the two of them with their parents. The photo of his horse, Blue, makes me smile. He named her after the character of the same name from the movieOld School. Owen Swift can’t even be serious when naming his horse.
Something on the side of the fridge catches my eye. The edge of a picture protrudes between the appliance and the wall, instinctively I reach out to examine it. My breath flees again, but for an entirely different reason than just moments ago.
