“I guess I could have said something about how I would do the dirty work on the case and stay close to her?—”
“You are not doing anything fucking dirty with Delaney. I’ll be the one who is dirty with her!”
“—because she is not going to break your heart again.”
They both blinked as their words collided. Then Ryan squinted.
Nash let him go and shoved back. “You told her that she broke my heart?”
“You’re ready to get dirty with her again?” Ryan whistled. “See, this is why I have to take over. Pretty sure you’re still at least halfway in love with her!”
Oh, there was nothing halfway about it.
“Bro.” A slow shake of Ryan’s head. “There is fucking the woman, and then there is getting fucked over by her.” Blunt words.
And the bathroom door opened.
Because…
Sure.
The door opened, and they both whipped their heads toward the sound. Delaney stood in the doorway, hair wet, wearing jeans, white sneakers, and a soft, blue shirt. No makeup and with full lips trembling. Nash wondered just how much she’d overheard, and he found himself holding his breath.
But Ryan has one loud-ass voice.
“I’ve got a great idea.” A broad smile curved Delaney’s lips and never, ever reached her eyes. “How about neither of you become my bodyguard? Sound good? Fabulous.” Her shoulders straightened. “I’d like to meet your boss, now, please. Thanks so much.”
Nash sucked in a deep breath. “Ryan?”
“Yo, bro?”
“Get the hell out, now.”
Ryan marched for the door. “Getting the hell out, now.” He crossed the threshold and grabbed the doorknob. “Though, I feel duty bound to warn you that you should not do anything you might regret.”
“Shut the fucking door.”
Ryan did. Finally. His brother got his ass out of that bedroom. Nash was alone with Delaney. Alone with the woman he’d loved and lost so long ago. And maybe they needed to clear the air about that time. Maybe he needed to fess up and reveal some long-held secrets or…
“Fuck it.” He surged toward her as she stood there, beautiful and brave and making him ache.
Even as her eyes were widening in surprise, Nash bent toward her. His hand slid under the curve of her jaw. He tipped her head back, and he bent down, and he tasted her.
I missed her.
Too many years had passed.
I craved her.
So many nights when he’d woken up, aching for her. Needing her.
I want her.
He couldn’t let her slip from his grasp again. Whatever he had to do, whatever it took, whatever lines he had to cross, lies he had to tell, or rules he had to shatter, he would do it.
I won’t let go.
Not the hell ever again.
