Chapter Twenty-Five
Brady
The room had fallen into that rare, total kind of quiet, as if the rest of the world had politely stepped back to give us the night.
Elise was curled tightly into my side, one leg hooked over mine.
Her skin still radiated heat where it pressed against me, and her hand rested flat over my chest, fingers loose but deliberate.
She had claimed the space effortlessly, without hesitation.
I kept my arm wrapped securely around her, palm tracing slow, unhurried paths along the smooth curve of her back.
I simply didn’t want to stop touching her.
I pressed a quiet kiss to her forehead and held her a little tighter.
Sex with a friend had never felt like this.
It had never reached this deep. I’d had the purely physical, clean release but this had slipped straight underneath my armor.
It bypassed every defense, cut through the usual noise, and anchored itself in the exact places I usually kept locked down.
I felt like I’d been pulled apart and put back together better.
Staring at the dark ceiling, I let the brutal reality of the last few days settle over me.
The abandoned house. The dust. The manila folder in that high-security facility.
Those cold numbers and signatures painted a clear picture: my father, Gabe Holliston, had played a direct role in the exploit that cost Thomas Steele everything.
My jaw tightened in the dark. Her father.
She’d been worried that I couldn’t forgive her for not being honest about who she was, but how could she forgive me for my family’s role that nearly destroyed her father?
I glanced at my phone on the nightstand.
I should text my family. Before I left, my siblings and I had set up a strict communication protocol.
I was the scout. I was supposed to report back on the true architecture of this decades-old feud.
We even had codewords. “Milk” meant everything was normal.
“Curdled milk” meant I’d found something complicated enough that it couldn’t be discussed over a voice call. I hadn’t sent anything back yet.
Why had the deal fallen through? How had none of us ever heard of Thomas Steele before? What was I missing?
Elise tapped my chest gently. “Hey,” she murmured, voice soft in the quiet. “Your heart is racing, and I know you’re not sleeping. Talk to me.”
I looked down at her. Her hair was beautifully tangled against the pillow, her gaze steady.
I shifted us with careful strength, rolling so I hovered above her on braced forearms, my body a warm shield without crowding.
“I’m not someone who likes to map out every step before I take it,” I admitted, voice rough.
“That’s usually a strength. Right now it feels like a liability.
I didn’t expect to learn my father helped ruin yours. ”
Elise shifted closer, refusing to let me create even an inch of distance.
Her fingers traced a slow line across my collarbone, mapping me like she was committing every inch to memory.
“I didn’t expect that either.” Her touch lingered, grounding.
“I also didn’t expect to find out my father had been living like a ghost in a high-security compound because of that betrayal.
I always thought it was just his philosophy.
But he rebuilt everything from scratch. Money comes and goes.
What exactly happened back then that cut him deep enough to make him hide from the world all these years later? ”
“I don’t know,” I said honestly, dipping my head to brush a kiss along her jaw.
“But whatever it was, my dad and Cody Burke never recovered from the blast radius either. They’re still carrying the fire.
” I let my weight settle just enough to remind her I was solid and present, then rolled us again so she draped across my chest, giving her the control she needed even while I held her steady.
We lay there a long time, the silence heavy with things we couldn’t rewrite. My hand moved in slow circles on her back, occasionally dipping lower to squeeze her hip in quiet reassurance. She relaxed into it, her breath evening out against my skin.
“We have to talk about what this means,” I said quietly. “What do we do now?”
Elise met my gaze. I wanted to stay right where we were and forget about everything and everyone else, but she was right. We couldn’t.
In a soft tone, she said, “Tomorrow, I’d like to introduce you to my father.”
I blinked, the weight of the offer landing like an anchor. “Just like that?”
Elise wrapped her arms around my neck and tucked her face into the curve of my throat. “Let’s hope,” she whispered against my skin. “And try.”
I let out a long, ragged breath, then chuckled low, the sound vibrating between us. “Well, if he’s half as terrifying as you made the compound sound, I’ll just flash my dimples and offer to fix his truck. Worked on Roy.”
A surprised huff of laughter escaped her. She swatted my chest lightly, but her body melted closer, legs tangling tighter with mine. “You’re impossible.”
“Optimistic,” I corrected, tilting her chin up so I could kiss her slow and deep, pouring every ounce of certainty I felt into it.
My hand slid down her side, possessive yet tender, thumb stroking the underside of her breast until her breath hitched.
“And completely gone on you. We’ll face him together. Whatever comes.”
The conversation should have killed the mood.
Instead, something deeper took root. She smiled, soft and trusting, and it hit me square in the chest. This woman who had every reason to build higher walls was choosing to let me in.
The trust in her gaze made something primitive stir low in my gut, something far beyond the easygoing guy I’d always been.
I kissed her again, savoring the way she opened for me, then worked my way down her body with deliberate reverence.
I took my time, worshipping every inch until she was trembling and reaching for me.
When I finally sank into her again, slow, deep, our eyes locked, it was a promise.
A connection. Silently I vowed: I’ve got you, and I’m not going anywhere.
We moved together in unhurried waves, her nails digging into my shoulders as I held her through every crest. Afterward, I pulled her back against my chest, pressing kisses to her hair while our breathing synced.
The room had fallen back into peaceful quiet. But we felt different. Stronger. More certain.