Page 13 of Protecting Salvation

Warren’s eyes twinkled and he offered his hand. “Come on, I’ll walk with you.”

Peyton stood. “You don’t have to.”

He held her jacket out for her and she slipped her arm through it as he cupped her shoulders and bent his head closer, his breath feathering her ear. “I want to, sugar.”

“Okay.”

He nodded as if satisfied and she turned, giving Aoife a little finger wave and ignoring her interested look. Whatever Aoife was thinking, this wasn’t that. Warren was just being kind.

The night was cool, and she shivered.

“Cold, Pey?”

“A little but I’ll be fine when I get some food in me.”

Warren wrapped a big hand around her shoulders and pulled her closer to his body. “Better?”

“Much.”

They walked down the main street where there were more food options this late at night.

“So what are we thinking? Kebab? Cheesy chips? Subway?”

“I wanted a veggie kebab, but now I want cheesy chips.”

Warren nodded. “Good call.”

He led her toward Mr Chippy and they waited in line. He didn’t let go of her even then and she liked that. He felt good, it felt natural, and for just a second she could close her eyes and imagine what belonging felt like. He ordered two portions of cheesy chips and gave her a no-nonsense look when she tried to pay.

They walked out of the chippy, plastic forks in hand and turned towards the direction of her home. It was a bit of a walk in these shoes, and she debated getting a taxi but wanted to spend more time with him. They ate and walked in companionable silence for a little bit, and it allowed her to watch him and admire the way he was always so alert, so aware.

“You’re staring.”

Peyton blushed as he glanced at her sideways and smirked. “Sorry, I was just thinking how you’re always so aware.”

He took the empty cardboard tray out of her hands and she should have been embarrassed that she’d eaten so much but she’d skipped dinner tonight to get ready and she was glad she had after Warren arrived.

“Part of my job. It’s ingrained in me now.”

“Makes sense.”

He held out his hand and she took it, her heart skipping at the innocent touch that felt more intimate than sex had with other men. Something about Warren made it so every interaction held more weight. Perhaps because he didn’t give parts of himself away easily so when he did give a smile or a word, it meant more.

They walked and talked, mainly about the team and Val and Bás getting together. She didn’t mention Rykov or Watchdog because she didn’t want to pry and have him think she was shrinking him.

Her ankle wobbled as she stepped on an unlevel part of the pavement and Warren stopped and glanced down. “Shit, what an ass. I can’t expect you to walk in those. Do you want me to call a cab?”

Peyton didn’t want the night to end, yet so she shook her head, even though her ankle throbbed. “It will be fine.” She took a step to show him and winced.

“That doesn’t look fine, sugar.”

He stepped up and in a move worthy of any romance hero, swooped her off her feet and into his big arms, bride style.

Peyton shrieked and grabbed for his broad shoulders. “What are you doing?”

Warren gave her a wink, and if he wasn’t holding her she would have swooned like some old-time virgin for the 1800s.

“Carrying you.”