Chapter 16
MIDAS TOUCH (HOLDEN)
Imust be the dumbest man alive.
So much for not making a bad situation worse.
So much for my dinner plans, too.
It’s the first time in over a decade I’m eating takeout in bed, watching the woman beside me stuffing pad thai in the same little mouth that just sucked me off to heaven and back.
After we crashed, she was cold. That’s why she’s wearing my shirt, which hangs off her, comically oversized.
I’ve slid my sweatpants back on because I’m not eating with my balls hanging out.
I try my damnedest not to remember the way she inhaled my Marine Corps shirt when she put it on. Like having my smell on her is the best thing since birthday cake ice cream.
I also try like hell not to notice the way her nipples poke through the material. The shirt drowns her, swallowing her curves, but it still shows enough to make my dick wild and remind me how she feels.
In my mouth.
On my cock.
Christ, I’ll never unknow her perfection.
Soft skin, sweet pink nipples, small breasts, delicate shoulders, and that soft dip of her spine before her ass.
How that white stripe in her hair felt wrapped around my fingers, urging me to pull. Next time, I’ll do it harder.
If Leonidas Blackthorn could see me now, he’d grab one of the old trophy rifles mounted on the wall by his wet bar and blast me dead.
I’d deserve it, too.
Sorry, old man. This wasn’t part of the plan.
I don’t know what the fuck is anymore.
“It’s been forever since I had good Thai food,” she says brightly, leaning over to steal some of my drunken noodles.
“I thought you were in college not that long ago.”
“I ate a lot of ramen. Not Thai. Most of it thrown together in my dorm from instant packs with a few frozen veggies and an egg on top if I was lucky.” She smiles at me through her lashes. “I was broke, Holden.”
“Now look at you,” I say flatly, tapping my fork on hers.
“Yeah, look at us…” She clears her throat shyly.
“Takeout was one of the nice things I’d do with Dad.
We always used to have Chinese and Thai when I was a kid.
When I got a little older, it was a lot of pho.
Saved him from cooking, I guess.” She shrugs.
“I always thought it was great. The one thing he did teach me is it’s fair game to steal food off someone else’s plate. ”
“Something we agree on.” I lean over, grabbing a forkful of her pad thai.
It feels weird to talk about the past when she’s warming my bed. Right after I fucked her brains out.
Which is something the greedy little imp controlling my dick wouldn’t mind doing again. Hell, make it ten thousand more times.
But we need to talk first.
Talking, shit.
That’s worse than lust and its consequences. It’s been so long since I’ve done this. Not just the sex, but… sex with strings.
And there are so many strings wrapped around us like an invisible web. Even if I wanted this to be a one-off, if we both wanted it that way, something tells me it won’t be.
That’s what I fear.
I knew I’d want more than cheap sex before I tore her clothes off, and that’s a problem.
For now, I clear my throat and find a safer subject.
“If it’s not just money you’re after with the Hera Egg, we should look at museums,” I say.
“What?” She blinks at me like I’m talking ancient Egyptian.
“I’ve done some reading. Some places are flexible. They’ll even pay you fees for ‘loaning’ it around on display. With all the precious items they house, their security is excellent. You wouldn’t have to worry if it’s bouncing between legitimate museums.”
She shoots me an amused look, more of that cinnamon hair falling over her face. Her sex hair looks lethal, especially when she keeps her lips sealed.
“What?” I growl. “It’s a reasonable thought.”
She laughs then, loudly, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth like she can shove it back in. But it spills out anyway, golden and happy. Well fucked and well-fed.
My dick hardens.
“Do you ever switch off? Is this just normal pillow talk after you sleep with a girl?” she asks. “Or am I a special case?”
I scowl at her.
She is a special case, dammit, but there’s no way I’ll say it out loud.
“What do you want to talk about, then?” What do you usually talk about after coming like an angel?
Not that I want to think about the other men she’s been with. She hasn’t slept with anyone else for months, she said.
Months.
It’s been a hell of a lot longer for me, grinding through life on monk mode. This strange jealousy zings through me like a live current.
No, I don’t fucking want to think about who else has had their dirty paws on her.
I don’t want to imagine her red-faced and screaming for anyone but me.
“I don’t know,” she whispers, picking at the last pile of noodles. I try not to fixate on her lips and fail miserably. Now that I know what she looks like with her mouth full of my cock, it’s not helping. “Life? Tell me about yourself. I deserve a few scraps after… y’know.”
I suppose she does.
I brace both hands above my head. “We’ve known each other for years. What else do you need? Not a lot to read in this open book.”
“Yeah, right. I didn’t even know you had a daughter until you stormed back into PopPop’s house,” she reminds me.
“Wasn’t relevant, back when you were young. I kept my two lives neat and separate. That’s what professionals do.”
Before, I never dared risk blurring lines between the two worlds. Before she was all grown up and tempting as hell, that was easy.
I’m so not good at this shit.
Being open. Approachable.
For her, I’ll try.
“Tell me more about the kidlet,” Cleo urges, putting her take-out box to one side and lying on her side, facing me with her head propped up in her hand. “She’s so sweet. I still wonder how that happened with a cactus for a father.”
“Careful.” My lips twitch even as I do my best to keep scowling.
“Just sayin’.”
“Yeah.” I sigh pointedly. “Kit… She’s a good kid.
Little dynamo and clever as hell. I got lucky on the homework front.
I just worry she’ll be a real handful when she’s older.
Not because she’s prone to acting out, but because she’s impatient.
She wants to experience everything, wise beyond her years. I can’t turn her loose.”
Cleo nods seriously.
Without thinking, I brush that lock of hair falling across her face. “Must be hard keeping up as a single dad. Especially with a little girl, and at her age.”
I roll on my back, holding my takeout.
“It’s not always easy. My parents help when they can, but that’s getting harder with their health issues.
Of course, Leonidas stepped up a few times, what little I let him indulge with books and time off for drives down the coast. We’d stop at historical sites, see the old lighthouses and ships every summer. He demanded a full report every time.”
She smiles fondly, and so do I.
“He respected family, even when it wasn’t his.
Maybe because his turned out complicated in ways he couldn’t fix.
” I brush her hair again. “And Kit, she’s always been understanding with my work.
Last thing I ever want to do is disappoint her or change plans.
Thankfully, with your granddad as a boss, that wasn’t often. ”
“Mm, good.”
“I’m glad you’re around,” I admit. Her expression lights up like the sun. “Truth be told, Kit’s always had an artsy side and I don’t have a clue what I’m doing there. I want to, but—”
“Say no more. You were helpless at The Met.”
“Thanks,” I bite off.
“You’re welcome!”
I put my takeout on the table and roll to face her, too.
“Lately, she’s been talking my ear off about this writing camp come summer, but I haven’t given her a firm answer yet. I hate the thought of her being away for weeks. Especially if our business is wrapped up by then and I have some time off to plot my next move.”
Honest to God, downtime scares me.
I haven’t been out of a job or military duty since I was a kid myself. The only time I ever slowed down was with my ailing, estranged Charli.
Not a happy time.
Not a time I care to brood on because I’ve got nothing better going on.
Cleo’s eyes flash in the shadows, blue and violent dusk.
“Sounds hard,” she says softly. “She’s so young, but she’s growing up, piece by piece.”
“Ten years old. Far too young. Or maybe I’m just a paranoid old hawk who doesn’t want to let her go until life pries her out of my hands.”
“But it will. I’m no mom, but I know life steps in sooner or later.” She laughs a little. “It’s sweet that you care so much. She’s lucky. Me, I was counting down the days until I could get away from Dad and Portland. I couldn’t wait to get into more trouble.”
“She’s a lucky girl,” I agree, knowing she means it sincerely.
She rakes her nails lightly along my jaw absently, like she isn’t aware she’s doing it.
“So what about Kit’s mom? If it isn’t top secret, I mean.” She asks so gently my heart shouldn’t start pounding, but it does.
She’s waiting for me to close up again. Testing fences to see if I’ll chuck her out of this room and lock the door.
A sick, damaged part of me wants to.
But hell, I’ve put off this conversation for too long. Running comes easy when there was never anyone who cared, anyone I could trust.
“She’s not around anymore. Not for a long time,” I say slowly.
Cleo stays quiet, waiting intently.
I sigh.
“Charli was my high school girlfriend,” I say. “We reunited in my twenties after I left the Marines and came home to Portland. She was… difficult.” Fucking understatement. I run a hand through my hair, staring at the ceiling.
“Difficult?” Cleo echoes.