Twelve #4
“How in any realm of possibility can this be my fault?”
“You’re a trouble magnet.”
“I am not!”
“I bet you said that with a straight face!”
“Sam!”
“Get off the phone. I have to call Aaron Sutter, which is gonna make my whole fuckin’ day!”
“He really likes Duncan, you know.”
“Oh, that’s fantastic news.”
“The sarcasm is not lost on me.”
“I couldn’t give a fuck! The only—”
“Oh, come on. You care a little—I can tell. You and Duncan Stiel are—”
“Like I started to say, the only thing those two are gonna fuckin’ do is make each other fuckin’ miserable, but they’re both bastards, so they deserve each other!”
“Back to swearing, are we?”
“Jory!”
Oh, he was mad, and for whatever reason, I couldn’t stop smiling.
God, I loved Sam Kage all pissed off. It made for the violent rush toward bed that made my heart stop.
Because when Sam was furious, he went silent and cold, but right now, pushed and prodded, he was like one of those rodeo bulls that just charged out and decimated whatever was in its path.
I couldn’t wait to get home and have him throw me on the bed and hold me down.
Oh, I was so in for it. I would be completely and utterly ravished. I shivered, just thinking about it.
“Dane said we’re moving.” I baited him some more.
“I already told you we were moving! Do you ever listen to anything I say? Ever?”
This was fun. “And so Dwyer and Salcedo were the same guy, huh, Sam? I guess love is blind, and you missed it.”
“What? What did you say to me?”
I cackled. There was no way not to. “It’s okay. You loved him, and he loved you, but you had to come home to—”
“I came home because the op was done and I had to get back to you! I didn’t give a shit about him! I needed you! I wanted you! I loved you! That’s why I fuckin’ came home!”
“Loved?” I pressed him.
“Jory, I swear to God, I will fuckin’ beat you if you don’t—”
“So, you love me? Sam? Do you? Am I it? The only one? Am I?”
“I’m gonna kill you!”
“Oh, come on. Say you love me. C’mon, Sammy. You can say it … come on …”
“Sammy?” he repeated.
I lost it, heaving with laughter, his complete indignation slaying me.
He roared, and the phone went dead, and I had the sudden urge to hide or run, but instead, I called Aaron Sutter.
“Can’t talk now,” he told me when he picked up. “Your man is on the other line.”
“Yeah, but you like me better.”
“Yeah, but Duncan … he mentioned he respects Sam quite a bit, and he was thinking he might want to follow the same path as Sam did in becoming a marshal and was hoping he could get Sam’s help with that.”
“You don’t just decide one day to become a marshal; it’s, like, a real job, you know.”
“No, I know; he knows.”
And it hit me. “Jesus, Aaron, you way more than just like Duncan Stiel.”
“I’ll talk to you later,” he said and hung up on me.
It took me a minute to wrap my brain around Aaron Sutter hanging up on me. Usually, I hung up on him, not the other way around. But I had taken a back seat; I was finally clearly in the friend column because the real guy had finally shown up.
I always thought that not being the guy Aaron Sutter wanted would be a letdown.
It was an ego boost to be the ideal, someone else’s heart’s desire.
I thought I would miss it when the day came that I tumbled from my pedestal.
I figured, in my secret heart, I would be sad, but faced with it now, faced with forever being just his friend, I was thrilled … and terrified.
What if Duncan was not ready for the force of nature that Aaron was? What if he ran? What if …
I would help if I could, but that was all I could do. All my life, I had fixed everything—or tried to—but really, I had no control over any of it. I had power over just me, influence over a few others, and the ability to make Sam and my children happy. What more could I ask for?
I turned my head at the roar of a motor, saw Sam’s monster car, and ran down the sidewalk. He pulled up alongside me, the door flew open, and he got out and rushed around the front of the car to reach me.
I held out my arms.
He froze.
“Come here.” I wiggled my fingers.
“What is this?”
“This is me, delirious to see you.”
“Why?”
“Because I love you.” I glared at him. “Now come here.”
“I love you too,” he growled and pounced, and I was in his arms, crushed in the iron embrace, his face pressed to the side of my neck as he shivered hard.
“Not leaving you; never leaving you. We’re good; we’re solid. But for you, where would I be?”
He just breathed me in.
“I don’t care who you loved or who loved you. I’m not jealous because look where you are. You chose me and our life, and you’re not going anywhere without me or the kids.”
“No,” he promised as he lifted his head and took my face in his hands.
I saw it in his eyes, the emotion surging through him, and then he was kissing me violently, completely, missing nothing as he devoured my mouth.
“Never”—he kissed harder, deeper, his mouth so hot and wet—“leaving you. You’re mine. You make it all work.”
I couldn’t think of anything better.