“Why did it bother you?” I asked eventually. “What he said?”
Erich didn’t answer at first. His fingers were running through my hair, straightening it out and flattening it back from my forehead. I opened my mouth to ask another question, but he cut me off.
“Are you asking for a philosophical answer,” he said, “or the real one?”
I let out a soft laugh despite everything. “The real one.”
His hand stilled. He tilted my face up to his.
“He said you belonged to him,” he said simply. “I didn’t like that.”
I didn’t know what to say.
He pressed a kiss to my forehead and pulled me back against him.
“Get some sleep.”
I exhaled, letting myself sink into him, the faint scent of smoke and gasoline clinging to his shirt.
“I love you,” I whispered.
For a moment, there was nothing.
Then his quiet laugh brushed against my hair.
“Marry me.”
Bonus Chapter
“Come here.” Erich’s voice was smooth—music to my ears—as he watched me from the driver’s seat of my now-deceased brother’s Rolls-Royce. I wasn’t sure what the plan was in the deserted grocery store parking lot in Illinois. We’d been driving all day, and I assumed we’d keep going through the night to get home… but when he pulled in, I started to question that.
I glanced from the passenger window back to him, his eyes catching the pale glow of the streetlights, then unbuckled and climbed over the center console.
“Come where? There’s no room,” I laughed, settling into his lap, careful not to put too much weight on my hands as they rested on his thighs.
His breathy chuckle sent a shiver up my neck as he adjusted me, lifting me slightly like I was a kid pretending to drive. One arm wrapped around my waist to steady me while theother reached for the seat lever, sliding us back just enough to give us space.
My heart fluttered—familiar now with the way his touch unsettled me—as he shifted his legs, guiding me forward so I sat at the edge of the seat. His lips brushed near my ear as he held me against his chest.
“I’m going to teach you how to drive.”
“I’m nervous,” I admitted, smiling despite myself as his hand turned the key. “What if I hit that pole?”
“I won’t let that happen,” he said, voice low as his hands settled on the wheel. “Put your hands over mine.”
I hesitated, then placed mine lightly over his. His left foot rested, his right hovered over the brake.
“Now your feet.”
I struggled to position my shoes over his boots, then gave up, leaning down to slip them off. My shirt rode up slightly, and I felt the shift in his breathing—the subtle tightening of his grip.
I tossed my shoes into the passenger seat and placed my bare feet over his, then returned my hands to the wheel.
I adjusted again, pressing back into him—aware of exactly what I was doing. The tease was hard to resist.
He exhaled sharply, resting his forehead against the top of my head. “Stop. I can’t focus.”
I laughed softly, leaning back just enough to catch his expression. His jaw was tight, his eyes half-lidded as he looked down at me.
