19. Chapter 19
TIERNEY
Creamy sauce dripped from the potato on my fork, pooling on the plate beneath. How the fuck did he pack so much flavor into such a simple dish? Hell, I watched him make it, and I still had no idea how he did it.
My eyes slid shut, a deep moan escaping me as I savored the bite. I wasn’t a foodie; food was just fuel—but I could get used to eating like this.
I opened my eyes to find Ross—Ahren’s eyes glued to my lips. His hungry gaze snapped to mine, and I fought the urge to look away.
Upstairs earlier—well, it’s not like I had a lot of experience in that area, but it felt, for a moment, like he wanted to kiss me. The whole idea was absurd on its face, and still the predatory glint in his eyes stirred something inside me. That tiny voice I never listened to that said, what if …
“We should talk,” he said quietly, spearing a piece of chicken and dragging it through the cream sauce before pushing it between his lips.
My cheeks heated at the obscene sight, barely processing his words.
“Talk?” I asked, my voice rising higher than I intended.
He nodded, sipping on his water.
“Sure.” I said, my voice stronger than I felt. Please tell me he can’t fucking read minds .
He blew out a long, heavy breath. Whatever this was, it seemed it weighed on him.
“Weaknesses. I know that’s something we keep close in this life, but you and I are a team now—like it or not. The smart play is to figure out the weaknesses so we can patch up those holes.”
I nodded in agreement, dragging another bite of chicken through the sauce, just as he’d done, giving me a moment to consider his words.
“They will figure out our weaknesses on their own. It makes sense we shore things up first.” I agreed.
My eyes flicked up from my dinner, meeting his expectantly— surely he didn’t intend for me to go first.
A slow smile curved his lips. “The main weakness you should be aware of is that, despite all my defenses, there is very little to protect us from line-of-sight attacks. Heat shielding might help with thermal imaging, but if they can see you through a scope…” his voice trailed off.
No need to finish. His point had been made.
“Got it.”
The silence stretched between us, suffocating and uncomfortable. We were assassins—predators. Baring our throats was not something either of us wanted to do. This is just as hard for him as it is for me.
“I—um, I suck at hand to hand. I am a crack shot and an artist with my knives, but up close and personal—” I shook my head, allowing him to fill in the blanks.
His brow furrowed, his jaw chewing on a question he wasn’t quite ready to spit out.
“In the grove,” he started, the gentle, tentative tone of his voice taking me by surprise.
“In the grove, you took on three men. Yet, you were the one to walk away. Sounds like you handled yourself pretty well.”
My head was already shaking, my reply sitting on the edge of my tongue before he finished speaking.
“No. First, the last two didn’t come at me until after I killed the first. Second,” I continued, ticking the reasons off with my fingers. “I had my knives. If it was just hands, I certainly wouldn’t still be here.”
His mouth opened in reply, but I cut him off. “And third, I didn’t walk, I crawled, and if you hadn’t found me—if it hadn’t been for Larissa—I’d be dead.”
He swallowed hard, choking down his reply, simply answering with a nod.
“I could train you,” he said, finally breaking the silence, his voice so soft it was nearly drowned out by the crackling of the fire in the fireplace. “For a price.”
My eyes snapped to his. That got serious in a fucking hurry .
“Price?” I asked, hoping I didn’t sound as weak as I felt at the thought of owing him more than I already did.
“Mmm.” he hummed, gulping his water, the glass thudding heavily against the table before he spoke.
“I have an intruder.” He said, a small smirk playing at his lips and mischief dancing in his eyes. “She somehow enters my property, avoids my cameras, evades my dogs and leaves—presents right on my doorstep.”
Heat crept up my face as he spoke, my cheeks no doubt a lovely shade of red .
“I—I uh.”
He gave his head a hard shake. “In the past, I may have wanted to—punish you for circumventing my security. Now. Well, now our safety—both of our safety—depends on knowing your tricks.”
My lips parted just enough to blow out a long, slow breath. He was right. This wasn’t the time to be cagey.
“I found a device online that freezes the camera feed. It only buys me ten to fifteen seconds, but as long as I time it right, it’s plenty.” I rushed out. Even though his eyes held no malice, I couldn’t keep my voice from shaking.
“Would you mind sharing it with my tech guy? Maybe he can figure out how it works and come up with a fix,” he replied thoughtfully.I nodded, my head bobbing quickly in agreement.
“As for the dogs, I wear a pheromone spray and I bring them each a handful of these primo liver treats they can’t resist.”
“Where do you get those?” he asked, curiosity lighting his eyes.
“The pheromone spray is online. Most of the bigger pet chain stores have them. But the liver treats. I make those myself.”
“You must have wanted to leave that first rose on my doorstep pretty badly to come up with something this elaborate.” His dark laugh rumbled through his chest.
I swallowed, flicking my eyes up to meet his. “Yeah. I guess so. I’m pretty competitive, and when I want something, I don’t stop until I get it.”
My mind replayed the day on a loop, desperate to glean something—anything.
Ahren was a beautiful man. The kind that made my body physically ache with the need to touch him. The way his voice caressed my name, dropping the “R” like it had personally offended him, made my body clench with need every time.
It made perfect sense that I would get lost in those pools of liquid honey and stare at those lips like a lost school girl. I had noticed Larissa seemed to be immune from the sucking gravitational pull that seemed to surround him, and I envied her.
Still, I couldn’t shake the images in my mind. His hand brushing gently through my hair and his hungry gaze on my lips. The feel of his arms around me as he carried me from the broker’s house…
A soft knock pulled me from my reverie.
“Come in.” I answered, keeping my tone even despite my spiraling thoughts.
Ahren strode into the room like the cocky peacock he was, wearing his signature confident smile.
My hands moved on their own, cleaning the gun. Movements so familiar I could do them in my sleep—I didn’t need to look. Then again, it wasn’t like it needed cleaning. If anything, it was just a distraction—something to keep my hands busy.
“Something on your mind?” I asked, an edge of curiosity seeping into my voice.
His eyes followed my fingers as they finished reassembling the weapon and laid it on the towel in front of me.
“Mesmerizing. I think I could watch that all day.”
A dry laugh worked its way through me. “Not sure the gun needs to be cleaned that frequently.”
“I have an entire wall full,” he murmured .
Something in his voice, almost—vulnerable, pulled me in. My eyes flicked from the cleaning kit, meeting his gaze, shocked to find a storm of emotions plainly etched on his perfect features.
Electricity crackled between us, stealing the air from my lungs. His eyes dropped to my lips and my tongue slipped out to wet them in response.
My eyes slid shut as his fingers feathered across my face and through my hair, wrapping my hair around them as he pulled me closer, pressing his lips to mine.
I knew instinctively his lips would be soft, yet wicked. But nothing prepared me for the moment his lips touched me and my core turned molten or the streak of pure liquid fire that followed his tongue as it swiped across my lips, demanding entrance.
Just when I thought I would explode from the heat rising in my chest, insecurity sliced through me like an icy blade as familiar as any of my knives. The self-inflicted wound bleeding out the heat as quickly as he poured it in, leaving me cold.
This has to be a moment of temporary insanity for him.
He’s eight years older than me, and highly accomplished in more than one field.
His body was hard and smooth, a masterpiece carved from marble that begged me to run my hands over it.
The smirk I know was meant to be cocky and irritating, but instead made tiny butterflies take flight in my chest. He was just—perfection and I’m—well, I’m not.
I pushed against his chest, gently, but firm, giving my head a hard shake.
“I’m not the damsel in distress, and I don’t need a pity kiss.” I stated, willing my voice to remain steady.
“Fuck. I’m not saying this right.” I said, letting out a heavy sigh. “an impulsive kiss with a random girl—someone you hated a few days ago—”
He rose from the bed, leaving the room without a word or a backward glance.
I finished putting the pieces of the cleaning kit away and tucked the gun under my pillow. Hating to admit how its presence made me feel safer.
As I reached for the lamp, Ahren returned, striding into the room carrying a leather bound box, his expression unreadable.
Tossing the lid on the bed, he poured its contents on the bed in front of me, dropping the box near the foot of the bed.
“Hated.” he sneered, turning and storming out of the room.
My fingers trembled as I lifted a perfectly preserved rose from the pile and took in the small label wrapped around the small stem. A date from nearly six years ago, written in small, neat handwriting. Another rose, another date, this one a mere eight months ago.
Tears sprang to my eyes, the words I spoke only minutes ago turning to ash in my mouth as I carefully replaced the roses in the box. Twenty-six white roses. One for every time I beat him to a mark.
Each one meant to be a taunt, yet he treated them like love letters, preserving and dating them.
The urge to go to him rose in my chest and I fought my legs to stay on the bed. Nothing good could come from that conversation. I’d thrown his roses in the trash—exactly where I felt like I belonged tonight.