Our lips meet again, hunger reigniting instantly. Her hands slide under my jacket, feeling the warmth of my body through my shirt. I grip her hips, lifting her slightly to align our bodies better.
When we break for air, I rest my forehead against hers. "What about Brian?"
Her eyes, which had been half-closed, snap open. "Oh, he can fuck right off."
I blink, momentarily stunned. I've never heard Meredith swear. Not once. Not even when she stubbed her toe on that coffee table in Milan and nearly broke it.
A laugh bursts out of me before I can stop it. "Did you just?—"
"Yes, I did." She looks both embarrassed and defiant. "And I meant it. I'm not marrying Brian Percy. I'd rather eat glass."
"Good." I brush a strand of hair from her face. "Because I wasn't planning on letting that happen."
"Is that so? And how were you going to prevent it?"
"I have my ways."
"Care to elaborate?"
"No." I kiss her again, deep and thorough, feeling her melt against me. When I pull back, she looks dazed. "But, just trust me, he wouldn't have gotten anywhere near you."
Ten years ago, when Dex and I founded Farrell Security Solutions, I promised myself I'd never let emotions interfere with a job. It was a clean business plan. I'd handle the operations, train the operatives, make the deals. Dex would manage the client relationships. I wouldn't do personal protection assignments after the first couple of years.
All that went out the window the moment I saw Meredith's photo.
"You know," she says, tracing a finger along my throat, "we're still in the hallway."
I glance around, suddenly remembering we're standing outside her apartment door. "So we are."
Without warning, I bend and scoop her into my arms. She lets out a small squeak of surprise, her arms automatically fold around my neck.
"Cole! What are you doing?"
"Carrying you inside."
"I can walk!"
"I'm aware."
"I'm heavy."
I give her a look that I hope conveys exactly how ridiculous that statement is. "I lift weights, darling. I’m strong."
She bites her lip and looks away. I know where her mind is because I saw how she reacted when her vicious aunt laughingly asked if Meredith had stayed too long by the dessert station again. Or when cockroach-faced Trevor told her to lay off the cupcakes and not make it hard for her father to find her a match. There were even Meredith's so-called friends who made fun of her curves, curves I am dying to explore with my mouth, my hands, and my body.
"I've carried wounded soldiers in full gear through active combat zones," I shift her slightly to reach for her door. "I deadlift twice my body weight for fun. You weigh nothing to me."
Her eyes search mine for a moment before she relaxes in my arms and nuzzles against my neck. "Well, when you put it that way."
I punch in her security code one-handed—a skill I perfected over years of field work—and push the door open. As we cross the threshold, she leans up to press a kiss to the underside of my jaw.
I kickthe door closed behind us, sealing us into her apartment.
"Not that I'm complaining," she says, "but are you going to put me down anytime soon?"
"Not planning on it, no."
Her laugh vibrates against my chest as we enter our own world, where nothing exists but this moment, this feeling, the weight of her in my arms, and the promise of what comes next.
