“I’m sorry.” Cat touches my arm, tears rimming her eyes.
A fist squeezes my heart. “It was a long time ago. Today’s not about me. I don’t deserve your tears, so stop. Okay?” I never want Cat to cry over me again.
I drape my arm over her shoulders, and she melts into my chest.
Then she plants her hand right on my dick.
I laugh, an involuntary response to the weirdest day ever.
“Sorry, I’m sad and tipsy and horny. Plus, you’re just so hot.” She finishes off her martini and smiles.
When I kiss her, I taste the olives on her tongue. “Let’s get you out of here.”
“Hell, yeah.”
We slide out from the booth in separate directions, and she trips on the table base.
Thanks to quick reflexes, I catch her before her face meets the disgusting bar floor. “Got you.” I spin her around “bride-style” and carry her to the door.
Giggling, she wraps her arms around my neck. “My hero.”
I hate myself a little more.
Chapter 27
Caterina
Back at the safe house, Connor’s rummaging through the kitchen cabinets for snacks, and I’m uncorking a gorgeous red blend.
I study the man…his wavy hair, sexy hands, and baseball build. I love his growly voice too. I have no clue how I ever controlled myself around him. That little gold earring of his drives me insane.
The way he’s opened up since my father died—even with his life on the line—is what’s stealing my willpower.
I should care about the diamond bullshit, but I don’t. That’s just how Declan raised him. To be a soldier, a yes-man, a machine for the organization. It’s his Achilles heel, but I can see him pulling away from the life he knows and moving toward me.
I’m watching the Connor Gallagher canvas as new colors stain it, transforming the lines of the original geometric painting, adding contour and dimension, shadow and light.
I wonder if he’s aware.
Learning that his mother also died when he was young tipped me over the edge.
I’ve felt that loss since I met him. I knew some invisible force linked us. On a day where I’ve never been more alone, I discoverthis tragic fact about Connor, and the knowledge prompts me to believe that the illusion frequency isn’t all an illusion after all. We could be each other’s North and South Poles.
Another cabinet bangs shut.Note to self… Buy groceries for the safe house.
“I don’t need anything else to eat.” I pour him a glass of wine and wander into the living room. “I’m feeling better.”
“You need food, Cat.”
I roll my eyes. He’s such a worrier.
Cute, but unnecessary.
I plop down on the overstuffed couch and watch him dig around in the cabinets. The kitchen’s probably due for an update. Does his temporary shelter disappoint him? Maybe I should call a contractor.
I also need to contact Father’s lawyer and the executor. Though, I really thought they both would have already reached out to me. Nino claimed the executor was missing, but maybe the man just didn’t answer his phone.
Plus, Nino’s been scheming with Belinski since before dawn. I wonder when—or if—they’ll inform me of their latest worst-laid plans.
