Chapter 15
CROWN JEWEL (CLEO)
Before I can blink, I’m spirited away to a calmer place.
Charming old Portland streets filled with coastal art, quiet, and quaint shops melt my dark reality.
Logically, I know a few hours have passed. Hours where we prepped to leave the house with heavy hearts and unspoken tension.
Hours where we wondered if we’ll really be much safer at his place, without anyone daring to ask the question out loud.
Now that I’m away from Gramps’ old house, I can breathe.
And breathing feels so easy when I see where Holden lives. It’s not what I expected, this charmingly classic New England-style house. All dark-blue slats and white shutters. He even has a freaking weathervane on his roof shaped like a whale.
There’s a neat lawn out front and a little path winding up through a couple basic gardening boxes to a cozy porch that looks like it belongs on a postcard.
The vibe, the normalcy, it eases the lead weight in my heart even as it scatters butterflies through my belly.
Home. For now. Holden’s house.
He glances over at me from behind the wheel.
We drove here in near silence. I don’t think Kit ever went back to sleep after the insanity this morning. She’s drowsily strapped into the back, listening to an audiobook on her phone with earbuds.
We haven’t said much since I cleaned up his knee.
God, the bathroom.
I try to banish the diabolical images in my head. The bulge in his boxers, the way he bowed up and growled while I dressed his wound.
Not sexy, not sexy.
And not nearly fast enough.
When I look at him again, his eyes are dark-brown amber on fire.
Holy shit, focus.
“Here we are,” he says grimly. “Home sweet home.”
“You live here?” I joke, shaking my head. “You, and not some cute old man who wears cardigans and makes stained glass birds?”
Actually, I can’t see anyone else living in this space but Holden now.
So ridiculous.
He lifts an eyebrow. “Last I checked, I’m the guy who pays all the bills. You girls wait here.”
I nod and turn toward the back seat, grinning as Kit yawns.
“Must feel good to be back home?”
She shrugs. “It’s okay. Your granddad’s house was cooler.” Her expression clouds.
Eh, we’ll see about that. For now, I just hope it was more dangerous than the humble Verity abode.
My eyes track Holden as he unlocks the front door and disappears inside, presumably to do a sweep of the house before inviting us in. I can’t imagine being this paranoid, but under the circumstances, I can’t fault him either.
Kit doesn’t seem to notice there’s much wrong. She waits patiently until big daddy returns, walking so lightly you’d only notice it if you already knew about his knee.
My heart throbs.
I know he hates showing weakness.
If I suggest taking a breather on the whole manic security guard gig for a few days, he’ll get all snarly and tell me he doesn’t have a choice.
His eyes meet mine through the windshield again. Still so fierce. So guarded.
My breath stalls.
I hold it in my lungs as he stops and waves at us to get out.
“Let’s go,” he says, opening Kit’s door first. “I’ve got the bags.”
“I can handle mine. No need to play bellman at your own house,” I say, heading for the trunk.
“Just follow Kit inside. She’ll show you around.” He throws me another scary sexy look.
“Yeah! Come on, the grand tour only takes five minutes.” The little girl smiles brightly, bouncing on her heels.
“Okay, nugget. Let’s go.” I look back at Holden again, the way he hoists the stuffed bags out of the trunk without a care in the world for his injury.
His muscles ripple.
So yeah, maybe it’s a good thing I’m going to miss seeing that after all. I can’t start blushing again right in front of Kit.
She leads me up the inclined paved path to the front door and we go inside.
“This is the hall,” she says so flatly I almost laugh.
Inside, it’s a vibe. Dark wood, soft neutral walls, low light, comfortable and well organized.
Just what I expected from the outside.
The house feels austere and impressive, but real and lived in, too.
There’s a lovely stone fireplace in the living room, a small study or office, and a dining room with wide windows.
Upstairs, there’s the master bedroom, Kit’s adorable bedroom decked in pink, and a spare room painted green with a fluffy white bed.
“Here you are,” Holden says, ducking into the guest room with my bags. There’s a fireplace here, too, one of those electric ones that’ll have fake flames when you switch it on.
“This is nice,” I say, spinning around to take it in. “Super nice. I’m a little jealous of the wallpaper with the pink shells in Kit’s room, but this will do.”
“Don’t forget to leave a review. Five stars.” He snorts, looking adorably awkward as he braces a hand against the doorframe and looks around, probably with new eyes.
I’m impressed at how effortlessly homey it feels.
“We don’t get a lot of company these days. This room hasn’t been used in years, not since—never mind.” He stops abruptly, walking past me to set my bag on the bed. “My room’s just across the hall if you need anything.”
“Oh, yeah. Kit showed me.”
How convenient. Barely a wall away when I wake up with wet panties.
I swallow awkwardly.
He hovers over me a second longer before he ducks back through the door and plods down the hall.
I sink down on the bed for a long second, just processing today’s insanity.
This still feels like a waking dream.
At least the mattress is a cloud. But I’m holed up in Holden’s guest room.
And what was with that weird hesitation?
It’s probably just been a while since he had a woman staying under his roof, I guess.
I can’t help wondering about the former Mrs. Holden Verity, whoever she was.
He’s barely mentioned her—except to make it viciously clear he isn’t married. There was violence behind the words.
Why? Did he have a life with her she betrayed?
Did she live in this cute house and sleep in this bedroom?
Probably not, I tell myself. She’d have slept in his room, I’m sure.
Man, I need to stop.
My blood feels like cold coffee, melancholy yet humming, as I start unpacking, moving methodically. Nothing about this feels real.
First, we were attacked by thieves in ski masks like some bad thriller movie, Holden blazing after them like a wolf, so feral, hell-bent on saving us as much as the Hera Egg.
Then the bathroom.
That bittersweet, molten glint in his eye.
That bulge.
That man’s dickprint is going to haunt me for weeks.
Go ahead and laugh.
Seeing him half-naked and wanting after chasing them with fury has officially wrecked my head.
It’s too much and it’s made me reckless, and the last thing—the very last thing we need—are self-inflicted errors.
He took me in with my little treasure to do his job. Not an invitation to ruin his life by crawling into his bed and—
Yeah. No.
If I can’t check my inner art ho and her stupid, selfish fantasies, figuring out where the Hera Egg belongs will be the least of my problems.
I’m going to go certifiably crazy here.
Welp, I was right. Crazy.
I wrap my hand tighter around the warm coffee mug, watching the flickering light from the sun gleaming in as it sinks in the distance.
The faucet drips slightly and Holden leans over to switch it off.
Did I just lick my lips? Seriously.
I take another rushed sip of coffee and almost choke.
If only he hadn’t sent Kit away with her friends tonight.
Now, I get why he did it. Honestly, being in a house full of two jittery-ass adults after an attack by total strangers probably wasn’t doing her any favors.
Holden wanted to get her mind off it. He couldn’t do that with us hanging around, just waiting to discuss the situation again.
So yeah, I get it.
The trouble is now it’s just Holden and me. Alone.
And he’s dressed casually in a house that whispers at me to let my shields down.
He’s opted for sweatpants—a crime against humanity on most guys—but on him…
Do not look at the way they hang on his hips.
Do not scan for what he’s packing.
This should not be the mantra going through my head less than twenty-four hours after we were almost robbed.
This coffee isn’t cutting it. I need water.
Leaning my hip against the counter, I swirl the mug and pretend the liquid looks like the most interesting thing in the world. Also, we need to talk, even if being alone together gives everything an added intensity.
I blow out a long, slow breath.
“Good coffee,” I say, riveting my eyes to the mug.
Lame. Do not look at him.
But it doesn’t matter. I don’t have a single rational thought in my mind anymore when we’re sharing the same room.
“Just a local dark roast, nothing fancy. Glad you approve.” He looks at me and squints. “We should get started on dinner. Clear our heads.”
Okay, but don’t look!
I do.
My self-control has always sucked, and those pants outline his toned legs in demonic ways.
“Dinner,” I echo blankly.
He nods. “You’ll feel better with some food in you.”
I’m so not hungry. Not for food.
There’s only one thing I want in me right now and the cost will be atrocious.
When I step closer, it’s not a conscious decision.
My mug lands on the counter with a decisive clink!
Holden watches me with his eyes gone black, nightfall in his face.
The guarded heat in that gaze renders me dumb. Or maybe it’s just the fact that a girl can only endure so much.
There’s only so much quiet teasing, only so much flaming proximity to a man that a woman can endure, and it’s breaking me.
“Clee,” he rasps as I stop in front of him, barely two inches away.
“Dinner can wait. I have a better idea.” My voice is hushed.
I flatten my palm on his chest and bite my bottom lip, teeth digging into my flesh the same way I’d love to rake my nails over his skin.
His heart pounds under my hand like a jackhammer.
Same tempo as my hummingbird heart, but so much stronger.
“What?” he growls like he doesn’t already know.