Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Zarek
I was sitting at the dining room table when Chloe leaned over my shoulder.
Her arms slid around my neck, warm and familiar, and she pressed a kiss just beneath my ear as she looked down at what I was doing.
“You’re a good man, Zarek Post,” she whispered.
The words hit deeper than she probably realized.
“It never sat right,” I said quietly. “Keeping the fight money.”
“I understand,” she replied without hesitation. “Giving it to Tyler’s widow is perfect.”
I sealed the FedEx envelope, pressed it flat, and set it aside. Then I turned and caught her around the waist, pulling her easily into my lap.
“I think you’re perfect,” I told her.
She smiled like she wanted to argue, but didn’t.
I kissed her—slow, lingering, the kind that wasn’t about urgency but about connection. When we finally pulled apart, we stayed close, just looking at each other, breathing the same air.
“You rescued me this time,” I whispered.
She shook her head, dark hair falling forward to hide her face.
Not a chance.
I brushed her hair back behind her ear. “I’m serious,” I said. “Without you, I don’t think I could’ve pulled myself out of that tailspin.”
“You had to be ready,” she said softly. “Otherwise, no matter how much I wanted to help, it wouldn’t have worked.”
She was right.
She always was.
I kissed her again, deeper this time, heat building between us. The kind of heat that made distance inconvenient and furniture negotiable. I felt the smile curve against my mouth before I saw it.
She knew exactly what I was thinking.
“I’m a lucky man,” I murmured against her throat.
She smiled. “I’m luckier than you are.”
We kissed again, and my hand slid to the hem of her T-shirt.
To hell with the couch.
The dining room table had always worked just fine.