“I do,” I whisper, hands coming up to grip his wrists, feeling his pulse strong and steady beneath my fingers.
“Good,” he murmurs, leaning in until our foreheads touch.“Because later I’m taking you out on an actual date and then I’m going to show you how much I want you.”
The promise in his words sends heat coiling through me.I close the remaining distance between us, pressing my lips to his.The kiss deepens immediately, his hands sliding into my hair, and mine gripping the front of his shirt.There’s a sense of urgency now, a need that burns hotter with each passing second.
When we break apart, both breathing hard, his eyes have darkened to nearly black.“If we don’t stop now,” he says roughly, “I won’t be making that club meeting.”
I laugh, feeling lighter than I have in days, maybe years.“We wouldn’t want to keep Grey waiting.”
Zach groans, pressing one more quick kiss to my lips before stepping back.“You’re killing me, Doc.”
I retrieve my coffee, hiding my smile behind the mug.“Go to your meeting.I’ll check in at the hospital.”
He nods, but I can see the reluctance in his eyes.“I’ll pick you up here at five thirty.”
“It’s a date,” I say, the word feeling significant between us.
Zach’s smile, a rare, full smile that transforms his entire face, makes my heart skip.He pulls me in for one more kiss before he leaves, and I know with absolute certainty that I mean it.
CHAPTERSIX
Zach
I arriveat the clubhouse to find it humming with activity.The usual Thursday afternoon lull has been replaced by a buzz of focused energy.Of brothers cleaning weapons and prospects running errands, and the air thick with cigarette smoke and purpose.Yesterday’s confrontation with the Reapers has shifted something fundamental in our routine.
The heavy wooden doors swing shut behind me, sealing off the bright afternoon sunlight.My eyes adjust to the dimness, scanning the main room automatically for threats before I recognize the habit and force myself to relax.Old instincts die hard.
Greyson stands at the bar, bent over what looks like building plans spread across the polished wood.His brow is furrowed in concentration, a tumbler of amber liquid untouched at his elbow despite the early hour.He glances up as I approach, eyes sharp with assessment.
“You look better,” he observes, straightening to his full height.“Less like you’re about to murder someone.”
I shrug, sliding onto a barstool.“Amazing what a few hours of sleep can do.”
He studies me for a moment longer, something knowing in his gaze.“And good company, I’m guessing.”
Heat crawls up my neck, but I keep my expression neutral.Grey’s always been too perceptive for his own.“The doctor’s doing okay, considering.”
“Good.”He taps a finger against the plans.“Because we need to talk about him.”
My body tenses automatically, a protective instinct I can’t quite control.“What about him?”
Grey sighs, running a hand through his hair.“Relax, Slaughter.I’m not suggesting anything bad.But after yesterday, we need to consider security implications.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning the Reapers saw you at the hospital.Saw how you reacted when the doctor was threatened.”He holds my gaze steadily.“They’re not stupid.They’ll put it together that he matters to you.”
The cold weight of realization settles in my gut.I’d been so focused on the immediate threat yesterday that I hadn’t considered the longer-term implications.Xavier could become a target not because of who he is, but because of who I am.Because of what he means to me.
“I’ve been thinking about that,” I admit, fingers drumming restlessly against the bartop.“Been thinking about it all morning.”
“And?”
“And I’m not walking away from him.”The words come out with more force than I intended, an edge of challenge I rarely direct at Grey.
To my surprise, he chuckles.“Didn’t expect you to.That’s not what I’m suggesting.”He slides the plans toward me.“Take a look.”
I glance down, recognizing the layout of Xavier’s apartment building.“You had Demon pull these?”
