His answering rumble vibrates through me. “That’s all I ask.”
For a long moment, neither of us moves.
The air in the kitchen carries traces of coffee and butter and a warmth I don’t have a name for yet, but settles into me like home. Rowan’s fingers drift along my spine until my breathing evens out and the frantic edge dulls.
When he pulls back, he studies me with a careful focus that means he’s turning something over in his mind. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”
My shoulders stiffen before I can stop them.
He notices, of course, his thumb brushing the corner of my mouth to smooth away my frown. “Nothing bad. Actually, I think you’ll like it.”
“Sounds ominous, coming from you.”
A ghost of a smile curves his mouth. “Fair.”
He moves around the island, leaning back on the counter, and the shift in his posture from personal to business sends anticipation curling low in my hips.
“It’s work,” he says.
I straighten on my stool as if struck by electricity.
Work.
Not the Blue Note installations, not the quiet, safe projects that keep me close to him and within controlled environments.
Real work.
I haven’t missed what happens in the Blue Note under the screen of legal liquor sales, the way people come in to whisper with Ghost. How he makes a note in the ledger he keeps behind the bar, after which Rowan goes out with a few of his people and sometimes returns banged up and bloody.
I’ve been keeping my head down, not asking questions, but I’ve been waiting for the day he let me all the way into his crew.
“There’s a building I need to get into,” he continues. “High security, but minimal risk.”
My pulse kicks hard with excitement. “Oh, yeah?”
“I see you’re interested.”
I stare at him, trying to read the angle of this, waiting for the catch, the condition, the inevitable moment where he realizes he’s offering too much and pulls back.
“What kind of job?” I ask carefully.
“Advanced security breach,” he says. “Multiple entry points, if you’re willing. Nothing reckless, though.”
My jaw tightens at the words, pride and gratitude tangling together. “I can handle a little recklessness.”
Rowan’s eyes sharpen. “Well aware, precious, but I’d rather keep you safe. There’s a difference.”
He pushes off the counter and steps closer again,his warm pheromones wrapping around me. “You’ve been calmer here, but there’s still a part of you chafing at how easy things have been. You miss being able to flex your skills.”
“I’m already needed by Lena.” I swallow hard. “And by you.”
“And I want more from you.” He cups my jaw again, stopping me from turning away or deflecting. “I don’t want you small. I don’t want you living as if you’re surviving on my generosity. You are my partner. I want you to be my mate. You’re brilliant at what you do. I want you out there using it.”
Something inside me loosens so suddenly it almost hurts.
For weeks, I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for the moment he realizes I’m too much work, too broken, too dependent.
Instead, he’s asking for more.
