Chapter 27 #2
A warm, delicious glow that caresses my skin like a balmy ocean current. Strangely gentle after he almost fucked me through the kitchen table.
He raises his head, eyes drunk, and finds my gaze. “You okay, Clee?”
“Never better.”
He grunts again, this time in amusement, and lifts me up.
Still holding me like before, but softer now, he carries me to the shower. There, he sets me down and switches on the water, waiting until it’s hot before we step inside.
I kiss him with the same reverence he just gave me.
His scruffy cheeks, his forehead, his nose, his mouth.
It doesn’t take long before his cock springs up, and he pins me against the wall, slowly reclaiming what’s his.
He fucks me as he washes me, lathering soap down my back, clean and filthy and contradictory.
Just the way it should be.
My heart sings louder than my flesh.
If I ever doubted Holden Verity before, he would have banished it all in this moment. The care he shows, making sure every part of me is clean.
We don’t speak.
In the silence, I wash him, too, letting the soap suds stream down the drain. I massage shampoo into his hair and drag the sponge down his body. We give each other all the attention we’ve been neglecting for the past few days.
When we’re finally clean—and running out of hot water—he wraps me in a fluffy towel and we head to the bedroom.
Finally, finally.
It feels like we’ve lost a whole year since we shared a bed together. When we lie down facing each other, he finally speaks.
“Don’t think I’ve ever had sex like that.”
“Not even with me?” I tease.
He shakes his head. “It was different. You’re different, Clee. Don’t know how to explain it.”
“No, I know what you mean.” And I do.
That wasn’t just sex. It was an eruption.
An event horizon that pulls you in and reshapes every conflicted feeling you ever had.
It was consuming.
It was love.
But I don’t know if either of us are ready to say it again out loud.
My throat goes dry.
“So, uh… I’m sorry I told you to leave back at the museum,” I say, needing to get it out there now. “I was hurt, and I wanted to prove I could do it by myself, but—”
“No.” He captures my hand, bringing it to his mouth and kissing every single one of my fingers. His eyes are heavy on mine. “You were so brave today, woman. So fucking brave.”
“I walked into a trap. That’s hardly brave.” I snort. “I didn’t feel brave either. I felt like I was about to pee myself.”
“Clocking a dangerous wanted merc in the face was a genius move. He never saw it coming, and it bought us all time.”
“Yeah, barely. But thanks for coming back.” I twine my fingers with his. “Without you, who knows. You saved my life,” I grind out.
“Clee.” His words are thick now, desolate eyes blooming with emotion. “I’ll always come back for you. Never, never worry about that. No matter what happened before, if you need me, I’ll come.”
“So we’re doing this? Talking about the future?” I move in closer, eliminating the space between us on the pillow.
“Are you going to tell me you’re pissed that I broke the egg after all?”
“No, Holden.” I hesitate. “I want to go back to Maine with you. I’ll ditch the place in Boston and figure out the rest later. I just want to live with you. You and your cute old house and Kit.”
“What are you saying?” His throat bobs as he swallows.
“Do I need to say it in another language?” I kiss the tip of his nose. “I want to be a part of your life, Holden Verity. I want to be your girlfriend, if you’ll let me. And I know maybe it’s a little fast and sudden, but—”
He doesn’t let me finish.
He just picks me up by the waist and swings me on top of him, wrapping his arms around my back and pressing me tight. I feel his drumming heart and his breath in my ear.
“Thought I’d lost you forever with my stupidity,” he says.
“You came to your senses. I don’t want to be lost. I want you.”
“Fuck,” he says raggedly, easing his hold so he can kiss me.
I kiss him back with all my heart, every steaming emotion I’ve ever mustered.
“About your inheritance—”
“I don’t care about mine,” he rumbles.
“Holden!” I slap his chest gently. “I care, okay? We’ll make sure you get it. You protected me.”
“Not the damn egg.” His lips twist in a wry smile. His hand smooths my hair. “I knew when I shot it to pieces that I blew any chance I had of the inheritance.”
“I disagree, and Gramps is gone. Jackie Wilkes, I’m sure she’ll be reasonable. If she’s not, I’ll fight the lawyers for you, if that’s what it takes. I bet I can get my cousins on board, too.”
“Just what we need, the whole crew of Blackthorn kids stepping up for the guy who used to ruin their fun. I don’t want you doing anymore fighting, Clee. I can handle my own battles.”
I stroke his beard. “You’ll always be worth the fight. And we’ll figure the rest out.”
“The rest, right,” he repeats. “Kit’s going to be thrilled.”
“She’s a sweet little bee, Holden. I love her to death.”
“She likes you too.” There’s a gleam in his eye that gives me the shakiest smile.
I slide off him, curling into the space he makes for me at his side. He rolls over, holding me close, my back to his chest.
“Hey, Holden,” I say.
“Yeah?”
“You said you loved me earlier. Can I hear it again?”
He pauses. I feel his smile against my hair. “Good night, Clee. Love you like mad.”
“I love you, too,” I whisper.
For the first time in days, I drift off peacefully.
The next morning, we wake up and fuck slowly in the morning light, basking in the warmth of each other.
Then he orders a quick grocery delivery and makes us huge omelets while I sit at the table, idly talking about the next art project I’d love to do with Kit.
I’m no idiot. I know we haven’t figured everything out yet.
There’s still so much we don’t know about how this will work, and there are a ton of details.
Like whether I’m going to move in permanently, whether we’re going to take it slow or keep moving at the speed of light.
I know what I prefer.
Once I’m in, I’m in.
I’ve never felt like this about any man before. And after everything that just happened, I want to put the storm behind us and move on.
Let Holden pave over the horror and loss with happy memories.
I just need him to agree. To recognize that we can be happy.
That’s always been the tricky part.
He’s just plating up our food when the unit’s intercom rings. We both tense. Holden’s gaze flashes to me.
“Expecting someone?”
“No.” I shake my head. The fear I’ve been pushing back comes racing to the front of my mind.
Holden’s hand goes to the waistband of his pants, the bulge that tells me he still has a gun there.
Before, I’d be scandalized.
Now, though, I’m glad he’s packing. My heart hammers in my chest.
He moves deceptively slow as the intercom buzzes again.
“I’ll get it,” he says, voice nice and easy, like he’s soothing a skittish animal. He stops by me briefly, smoothing a hand over my hair and kissing my forehead.
Then he walks over and presses the button for the speaker. “Yeah? Who is it?”
“Is Cleo Blackthorn there?”
I recognize the voice, an older man.
“Dad?” I gasp.
Holden looks at me as I mouth ‘send him up!’ A second later, I unlatch the door and throw it open.
My father storms in, stops, and stares. The way we’re both in our pj’s, Holden shirtless, gives it all away.
Oof.
My cheeks flare.
Dad looks Holden up and down, his eyes sharp and assessing.
“Suppose I should thank you. Guess you’re the big hero who kept my daughter safe, after all,” he says, dispelling any doubt I had about what he knows.
“Guess so.” Holden shuts the door, his voice equally cool.
Dad turns to me.
“Had a hell of a time finding you, girl,” he huffs.
Holden stiffens, but I shake my head.
“Hi, Dad,” I say cautiously. “How did you find us?”
“I hounded the cops all night, for one. Pulled every string the Blackthorn name can pluck. I knew you’d be with Verity, and when I heard the big ruckus in the news, I figured you were in trouble. Couldn’t leave you hanging, Cleo.”
I’m silent, still words bubbling in my throat.
But Dad doesn’t seem mad at me.
If anything, he looks distressed, running a hand through his hair and pacing back and forth across the room.
Holden moves beside me—easily in reach if I need him—but still far enough away so he’s not intruding.
“Dad—” I swallow thickly.
“No, me first. I’m a fucking fool, Cleopatra,” he growls.
Whatever else I expected him to say, that isn’t it. I go silent.
“I could’ve prevented this whole damn thing—and you, risking getting yourself killed over that stupid treasure.”
“But I didn’t die, Dad. And I wasn’t exactly open with what I’d inherited, so that’s on me,” I say, knowing I need to speak before Holden snaps.
I can feel protective Doberman energy rolling off him, filling the room.
But this is my dad and no one can protect me from him.
“You could’ve died for nothing and it’s my fault,” Dad snaps.
“I’m so confused. Why are you saying that?”
He drags a hand down his face. I think he’s hungover again, wearing a rumpled button-down shirt and slacks he’s probably had on for days. The bags under his eyes are puffy, though I can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or grief. His whole face looks swollen.
Jesus, forget my brush with death. He needs to stop before he kills himself.
But a wave of frustrated love rolls through me. Because I’m watching him self-destruct in front of me, yet he still cares deeply for some reason.
He drops into the sofa.
“Shit, I need a drink,” he mutters.
“We’ve got water. I’ll grab you some,” Holden clips, striding to the fridge for a bottle.
I slide off the table and approach the sofa slowly, cautiously. I really don’t get what has him so poleaxed. Is he hallucinating?
Did he read the news about the heist we thwarted and just let his own imagination run with it?
“Dad,” I whisper, grabbing his hand. “What’s going on?”
“Thanks.” He accepts the water from Holden, then looks at me with this hard black sadness in his eyes. “Don’t even know where to begin. I don’t know how.”