But it’s the only place in the world I want to be.
I swirl spaghetti around my fork. ‘Still nothing from Finn?’
‘Naw. Last I heard was before Christmas.’
‘Just took him on as a client. Not the best start, him vanishing into the wilderness or wherever he goes to blow off steam.’
Brodie shrugs. ‘He’ll come back. Probably needs space to lick his wounds.’
That lets me relax a bit. For now, at least.
‘Theo is looking for him,’ I say. ‘If anyone can find him, it’s her.’
I pick at my food, suddenly restless. He watches me with that quiet patience, waiting me out like he knows I’ve got something on my mind, too.
Might as well say it.
‘I was…thinking…’ Deep breath. ‘About…moving in. Here. With you.’
His fork stills mid-air. For a second, he just stares. It feels like my ribs are trying to contain a small, panicked animal, and I can’t look at him properly.
‘I mean,’ I rush to say, ‘I’m basically here all the time anyway. I thought… It might make sense. Unless that’s – I don’t know – too much?’
His lips part, like he wants to speak, but the words won’t come. Then he puts his fork down, gets up, and pulls me out of my chair without a word. Just wraps me up in his big, strong arms and tucks his face into the curve of my neck.
‘Move in, Champ,’ he murmurs, almost rough with it. ‘Kill all my fucking plants. I don’t care. Just be here with me.’
I laugh, but it breaks halfway through. I pull him closer. ‘You’re sure? I don’t want to crowd you.’
‘Crowd me?’ He eases back until our foreheads part and his gaze finds mine, his beautiful brown eyes warm and earnest. ‘You’re the only person who’s ever made this place feel like home. Fucking move in yesterday, Charlie.’
His voice catches on my name, and that does it. I surge up to kiss him, threading my fingers into his hair. He tastes like tomatoes and wine and home, and I never want to stop.
‘You’re such a sap,’ I say against his lips.
‘Shut up,’ he rasps, but he’s grinning. ‘You love it.’
‘Yeah.’ I kiss him again. ‘I really do.’
Brodie’s lips move on mine with the kind of urgency that says he’s still making up for lost time. Like every second I’m not in his arms is a mistake he has to fix. He grips my hips and lifts me onto the kitchen table with shocking ease. Plates rattle, forks clatter to the floor. His eyes burn, that hungry look that turns my bones liquid.
‘Now be a good girl and lose these fucking leggings before I rip them clean off.’
‘That a threat, MacRae?’
‘Naw.’ He grins, feral and so fucking beautiful I ache. ‘It’s more of a promise.’
My hands fly to my waistband, but he bats them away as if I’m too slow. He peels the fabric down and tosses it without looking. Before I can catch my breath, his hands are under my arse, pulling me to the edge of the table, shoving my legs apart.
‘Fuck. I’m not gonna last. That pretty little cunt of yours is going to be the death of me. Want me to use my tongue on that pussy?’
‘Yes. God, yes… Please, I need your mouth on me. I just asked to move in with you, Brodie. Say yes with your tongue.’
His mouth crashes into the inside of my thigh like he’s starving, hot and greedy. I’m sure he’s gonna devour me right here. One tug and my thong is out of the way.
Hallelujah.
‘Look at you,’ he mutters. ‘So horny for me you’re leaking onto the table.’
