A lean, a breath. One step, and then another. We’re staring into each other’s eyes the whole time, as though we’re magnets being pulled together. Slowly, surely.
“I should check your arm,” I say softly as we almost touch. His pristine charcoal-grey suit and my jeans and T-shirt. We couldn’t be more different, and this just proves it. He’s casually examining guns with his men as I stitch people up and care for them in hospital.
But whenever we’re together, it’s impossible toremember why he’s a bad man. It’s only the two of us in the whole world.
That time he made me come is seared into my memory. I can’t get rid of it, and I don’t want to. And more than that, I want to kiss him. I want to feel that rough beard on my cheek and have him enclose me with his arms.
14
CALLIE
I have more orgasms in the next couple of weeks than in my whole life so far. I know I’m setting myself up for heartbreak—Reid was very clear that as soon as he’s healed, that’ll be the end—but I tell myself we’re friends. He feels like my best friend. This is a sort of nursing bonus? For both of us. As Reid promised that night after I thought he was hurt in the shower, we don’t have sex, and we don’t discuss it.
I make him cakes that he eats and compliments. He provides dinner. He upgrades the house more or less at the speed of his recovery, until it’s all luxurious. We spend nearly all of my time off together.
He doesn’t have me walk in on a massive pile of guns again, and I don’t mention what he did to my dad, but I do think about it. And the more I live with the idea, and with Reid, the less it seems like a problem, and more just a part of a man I care about. A lot.
I watch Reid’s wound getting better day by day, tightness developing in my chest as it closes and heals, drawing the time he’ll leave nearer.
At least I have a redecorated rental house, I guess.
I’m beginning to think I’d rather have Reid.
It’s about three weeks since he moved into my life, and I have a day off. The cakes are finished for when I return, and I relax in the lounge as Reid works. He clearly tries to carry out his duties around me, but I was on night shifts this week and so we haven’t seen as much of each other, because he has responsibilities.
I quite like that about him. He takes his business seriously.
I’m reading a book another nurse recommended to me when Reid appears at the lounge door and leans his good arm against the frame, his expression sober. He’s wearing a tux, and I gape, because honestly, dressed like this he’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. A work of art. The black of the tux and the silver of his hair and beard are next level.
I wait for him to speak, because he clearly has something he wants to say.
He sighs. “Is the book good?”
I slide in the bookmark, and turn to look at the cover, as though that will tell me the answer. I don’t know why I always do that. “It’s a beauty and the beast retelling, and it’s…” I struggle to explain. “Good, but not exactly what I was expecting. Blasphemy, but I think I preferred the movie?”
“Shocking.” He quirks one eyebrow. “Would you be upset if I asked you to do something else?”
“Depends what it is.” I pretend to be as serious as his expression is.
“I have an event I have to go to this evening. There’ll be people who could jostle against me, and what if my wound re-opened? I’ll need you with me.”
That’s very unlikely. And if something happened, acouple of hours wouldn’t make that much difference at this point.
“That sounds sensible.” I go along with his absurd excuse, because do I want to spend more time with Reid? Absolutely.
“Come on.” He straightens and holds out a hand. “Jack is waiting in the car to take us to buy you whatever you want to wear.”
I don’t even attempt to argue with Reid about the shopping trip. This man may not have technically kidnapped me, but he has entirely commandeered my whole life. The crazy thing is, I’m getting used to it, and coming to maybe… Like his arrogant, grumpy ways?
I do quiz Reid about what to expect, but he’s his usual brief answer-self. “You’ll see” and “That’s fine” is all I get when I ask him where we’re going and if I should put something fancier on for shopping. So I don’t embarrass him.
The car pulls up in front of a sleek store in a part of London I would never go to because everything is so expensive.
“Reid, I don’t know?—”
“I do.” He takes my hand as we get out of the car and keeps it as we cross the pavement. My fingers buzz with his proximity. It’s so casual, like this is what we do now. Like he’s my… Boyfriend? It doesn’t feel like the right word for a man as sophisticated as Reid. Lover? But that would imply he loved me.
A girl in perfect beige clothes and with smooth hair opens the door for us, and gives a welcoming smile and “Hello,” as though she’s been waiting. Embarrassment washes over me, and I think I’d run if Reid wasn’t holding onto my hand. This is not my scene. I’m an awkward girl who works as a nurse, and the woman steps back to reveal ashop that is so obviously fancy it’s only open for private clients. Like Reid.
