Chapter 36 #2
I slip my hands around the back of his nape, nudging his face to mine. Instead of hoping he’ll kiss me like I normally do, I take control this time. It’s my turn to comfort him.
Tenderly, I join our mouths, wiping away his fear of hurting me with each graze of our lips.
When I end the kiss, I place my palm on my chest. “This is your heart to complete. And I love you with every beat of it.”
He doesn’t say it back this time, which is fine because he’s said it plenty since yesterday. And the fact that he hasn’t arrested me yet speaks volumes.
Instead, he does something far sweeter.
Wordlessly, he removes my hand from my chest. After kissing my palm, he slowly presses it right over his heart. The love shines in his mocha eyes, sparkling radiantly in the reflection of the bright bathroom lights.
With his poetic gesture, he tells me I’ve got all of his heart as well.
No matter what our rocky future holds, nothing will take that away from us.
Over breakfast, he checks his phone about forty-three times, give or take a dozen. It’s admirable that he hasn’t been pushing me to start talking from the moment his head left the pillow. However, the clock is ticking.
I work this afternoon and am here without a vehicle or my uniform. He still needs to drive me home before he can hit the office or wherever FBI agents go to start their workday.
Time isn’t a luxury we have. And there’s a lot I need to say before we can part for the day.
Hold up. Am I even allowed to go home? Or to work? Is it safe? If it wasn’t yesterday, it likely isn’t now. Unless something changed when he was doing his hot guy special agent thing last night while I was eating him out of house and home.
The time for stalling is gone. I don’t need to pull my big girl panties up. They’re already at waist-level. If Reed isn’t gonna start, I’ll do it.
I set my empty glass of orange juice on the table, push my plate away, and fold my hands in front of me. “Okay. Let’s do this. Shall—”
He holds up a finger to cut me off while he finishes chewing. Like only the finest servers do, I’ve caught him mid-bite. I’ll need to add that to the special skills section of my resume.
Once he’s done, he dabs the corners of his sexy mouth with his napkin, then lets his face fall slack. “Do you think they keep a record of how many revolutions the wheel has made on the Wheel of Fortune? It must be in the trillions.”
Drats. I was all ready to get down to business, and now I have to consider his question before I can move on.
Nah. I know this trick. I wrote the book on it.
Instead of chasing him around Chaos Corner, I redirect us to more pressing matters.
“Is that what you were searching on your phone one of the fifty-two times you’ve checked it in the last ten minutes?
Or was it stuff about the case? You do remember the case, right?
The one you’ve been hounding me about for weeks. ”
He picks up his bagel, eying it with overly intense speculation. “Life’s short. Do something to a bagel.”
That one gets a barking laugh out of me. He smirks victoriously, making one of his dirty dimples pop.
When my laughter fades, I give him a slow clap. “Wow.” Clap. “This is what it feels like.” Clap. “I had no idea it was this annoying.” Clap. “Bravo.”
Just when I think I’ve got him back to his factory settings, he doubles down. “Be that as it may, still may it be as it may be.”
I thud both hands on the table, my fingers splayed wide. Leaning forward, I give him my angriest of angry eyes. “Reed. Knock it off. This isn’t a game you can win. I’ve been training for this since shenanigans first flabberbusted the nincompoop codswallop.”
In a gesture at odds with his typical disposition, he cranes his head dramatically until one ear touches his shoulder.
Then he sticks his lower lip so far out it’s a trip hazard and hits me with Puss in Boots eyes.
“Teach me your ways. I’ll never abracadabra jacuzzi feet the way you do without your tutelage. ”
Keeping a straight face after that performance is impossible, so I allow a two-note laugh before I affix the mask of a woman resigned to deal with the hard stuff.
“Reed, as much as I want to, we can’t avoid this anymore. You know that as well as I do.”
Solemnly, he nods and slumps against the back of his chair. “Being a grown-up sucks.”
“Agreed. Now, shall I start at the beginning? Or do you want to ask me your interrogation questions? How does this work?”
His answering sigh sounds the way I feel—haggard. “Let’s clean up first.”
He pushes away from the table and takes our plates into the kitchen. I join him to help tidy. I’ll give him this small win. Maybe he needs to collect his thoughts. A few more minutes to avoid my demise can’t hurt.
Much.
We don’t speak while loading the dishwasher.
We don’t speak as he puts the carton of Orange Juice into the fridge.
We don’t speak as I wipe the scrambled egg splatter from the stove.
The air is heavy with more than words.
I lean against the counter, hitting him with a lighthearted grin. “If you scrub that pan much longer, you’ll wear a hole through it.”
He furrows his brows, shaking his head. “Nah. It’s built to last.”
It isn’t a good sign that I’m the one pushing to have this conversation.
“I think it’s good now.” I take the pan from him, rinse it under the water, and set it in the drying rack. “You’ll thank me later when you don’t have dishpan hands.”
As he neatly folds the towel over the oven door handle, he peeks at me from the corner of his eye. “This feels familiar.”
“Oh? Have other women spent an orgasm-filled night with you and then confessed their crimes after eggs and bagels?”
He purses his lips, giving his head a tiny shake of disapproval. “I meant us cleaning the kitchen together.”
A breeze of nostalgia flutters through me, bringing a pure smile to my face and soul. “Oh. Yeah. From the night we . . .”
Reed invades my personal space bubble, cupping my cheeks in that cherishing way he seems to love. “That was one of the best nights of my life.”
The younger version of me pulls out her journal, uncaps a pink sparkly pen with her teeth, and starts practicing her future signature.
Mrs. Lila Hayes. Mrs. Lila Hayes. Mrs. Lila Hayes.
With an obnoxious heart in place of the dot on the I.
“Really? Hmph.” I shrug nonchalantly, playing it cucumber cool. “It was okay for me.”
He bites his lip. “Liar.”
“Lately, yes.”
Ignoring my micro confession, he asks, “Were you really a virgin?”
I bulge my eyes comically, my head canting to the side. “I figured my inexperience was painfully obvious, you absolute potato.”
We’ve had far too much kissy-kissy time in the last twenty hours or so. I must restore the balance with some snark.
“Passion beats experience.” His hands slip down and squeeze my butt. “Made you squirt and took your virginity. Damn. You were right. I’m going to be insufferable.”
I feign irritation, attempting to snarl at him but likely failing miserably.
His phone chimes from the table, reminding us both that he’ll be cuffing me momentarily.
As if I’m indifferent, I quip, “On the bright side, I’ll be in prison where your gloating won’t bother me.”
His demeanor nose-dives instantly, shoulders hunching forward and face crumpling. “Point made. You’re ready to talk. Ya friggin buzz kill.”
Through a grin, I say, “If we don’t do this now, we may never do it. We’ll end up in bed. Or you’ll get called away again.”
“Speaking of which, I need to check my phone.” He kisses my nose, then releases me. “Meet you on the couch.”
While he attends to his latest distraction, I spin on my heel and march into the living room as if I’m going to war.
With each step, I channel the barnacle goose. If I manage to fling myself over the edge, I sure hope Reed will catch me.