“Of course you do. But you’re only seeing what you want to.”
“There’s nothing here I want to change. Your past is painful, but you’re here—living, breathing, making the world better every day. My only wish for you is that when you look in the mirror, you see the same thing the rest of us do: a good man doing his very best, no matter how hard that is.”
The rough pad of his thumb presses into my bottom lip, and I fall headfirst into the navy depths of admiration staring down at me. “You’re too fucking pure—an angel dangerous for my soul.”
A sharp inhale catches in my throat. There’s nothing angelic about what I want from Emmett. My weight shifts and my heels lift, no longer rooted in place, acting on impulse and yearning alone.
The gap between us shrinks.
“I’d never risk your soul. I like who you are deep down, when you’re not trying so hard to hide from everyone.”
Emmett drops his head; a hot breath sweeps over my cheek, so close that my skin buzzes. “You claim I’m blind to what the world sees, and maybe that’s true, although I doubt it, because I see you, Aspen. I see how you put everyone else first—see how your needs come last. I see your selfless, beautiful spirit, and it makes me want to be the place you rest. And that’s riskier than any fire I’ve fought—any natural disaster I’m trained for.” His lips graze my ear with each whispered syllable, and I’m holding my breath, waiting for something—for anything really—just . . . more.
He doesn’t pull back, and my heart takes off at a gallop as his head turns, his hand finding my waist.
I’m so certain he’s about to kiss me that my lips part and my eyes drift shut. The moment feels suspended outside reality.There’s the lightest press of his lips at the corner of my mouth and then he’s pulling back.
My entire body sags at the sudden absence of him, and the vibrations playing under my skin turn from anticipation to mortification. My fingers cover the spot his lips barely grazed.
“Aspen,” Emmett rasps. “Look at me.”
When I don’t lift my gaze from the floor, his knuckles hook my chin, tilting it until there’s no choice but to face him.
With my eyes on him, his frown softens. “Never wanted anything more.”
Four words etch themselves on my heart.
“So kiss me.”
Emmett’s chest rumbles—half chuckle, half need. “My angel begs.”
“Hardly,” I huff.
“I’ll taste these lips and make them mine, so ask me again without the warmth of alcohol and your friends’ influence in your veins. Come to me with a clear head and I’ll give you everything I have.”
“Emmett Slate, a gentleman. Who’d have guessed?”
“Hardly,” He mocks. “I just want you willing, pleading, and absolutely certain that you’re okay with this. I might not be good enough for you, but I’ll do everything I can to protect you . . . even if that means protecting you from yourself.”
The thing about being the “fixer” is people stop checking to see if you need anything. Everyone assumes you’ve got it handled, so you do what you always do—take care of it yourself. It can be lonely, which makes hearing Emmett’s vow to protect me from myself hit harder than it should.
“Thank you for this.” He slips the photo back in his wallet, pocketing it. “It’s all I have left of her.”
“Sure. Of course.” I don’t know where to go or what to do from here.
“I can see you overthinking, but there’s nothing more to be done tonight. You must have put in over sixty hours this week. Go get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” The reminder of how long my week was, a yawn fills my chest. I fight it because, let’s face it, there’s nothing appealing about my chin disappearing into my neck and my jaw unhinging to show this man my molars.
He chuckles. “Unless I’ve been banned from your shower for life?”
Heat floods my cheeks. It’s annoying how many times he’s made me blush today. Maybe I can blame this one on the tequila.
“I’ve asked the council, and they pardoned you.”
“The council. Is that what you call girl’s night?”
“It is now.”
