Page 200 of The Sweetest Return

“Because you called.”

“I thought you were loosening your grip.”

“I’m easing into it.”

“Terrible progress.”

“Make the decision, Omar.”

“That’s all I wanted to hear.”

He hung up before I could respond.

I stared at the phone.

Imani came out right as I slid it into my pocket. “Another intervention?”

“Restaurant.”

“Did you survive?”

“Barely.”

“You poor wealthy man.”

“Thank you for seeing me.”

“I see entirely too much of you.”

Her gaze dropped over me, slow enough to make the meaning clear, and my body remembered the night before. Her mouth near my ear. Her hand beneath the blanket. The quiet way she said my name while the cabin lights stayed low and the sky outside went dark around us.

I stepped closer.

“Careful.”

“With what?”

“Looking at me like that when your workday just ended.”

Her smile curved. “Then maybe you should feed me before I become a problem.”

“I planned to.”

“Of course you did.”

“Doting is part of the package.”

“Is that what this is?”

“With you?” I took her hand. “Absolutely.”

We spent the rest of the afternoon letting Malibu show off. Lunch at a private table facing the water. A slow drive along the coast with the windows cracked and ocean air moving through the car. A stop near an overlook where Imani stood beside me, sunglasses on, face turned toward the sun, her hand tucked inside mine like peace was something we had finally learned how to hold.

For once, nobody bothered us.

I could work with that kind of quiet.

My phone buzzed once.