CHAPTER 8
Imogen
The tension that had been building with their conversation hit a combustion point. Mateo’s head lowered as Imogen’s lifted, their mouths meeting before she realized how much she wanted—needed—his kiss.
This place, this man, felt like home. Comfy and warm, not the cold palace she’d grown up in. The reminder brought back what he’d told her. It hurt that he’d given up on them, but at least now she knew why. She’d spent years waiting for him to come back, alternately wondering what she’d done or how she’d managed to misread his feelings for her. Now, she knew she hadn’t.
He did have feelings for me.
Knowing he’d cared bored a hole in the ice guarding her heart. She traced her palms up the soft flannel of his shirt before locking them behind his neck. His lips were soft but urgent, and everything she remembered.
His spicy orange scent filled her senses, wrapped around her heart, and squeezed. He looked, tasted, and smelled like her Mat, but she couldn’t forget the five years in between. Five years they could’ve shared instead of spending them aching and alone.
Though it was a struggle, she made herself break the kiss. She dropped her arms from his neck, but his palms came up to frame her face. Tears built in the back of her eyes. She wanted him with a need so strong it choked her.
Gripping his wrists, she tried to keep the strain from her voice. “Mat—” Just saying his name had the waterworks threatening to spill over. Desperate, she blinked them back. “I don’t thin—”
His thumbs caressed her cheeks. “I still love you, Imogen.”
She felt suddenly much too warm as if someone cranked the heat up a hundred degrees. “You . . . love me?” Her expression had to be comical, but she struggled to process those words coming out of his mouth.
Mat in love with her?
She wondered if she was dreaming. Maybe she was still passed out and imagined all of this. Lord knew she’d been wishing for this moment for years.
“Yes. I was in love with you five years ago, and I . . .” His eyes closed as if he needed to gather strength before he opened them with a sigh. “I never stopped.”
She felt dizzy and lifted a hand to her head. “ Esto esunsueno,no ?”
Mat grinned and grabbed the hand she’d lifted. “You’re not dreamin’, Gen.”
Her legs refused to hold her up any longer. She would’ve fallen, but he caught her, lowering them to the sofa.
Saltwater leaked from her eyes, but she was powerless to stop it. “I feel like I’ve waited an eternity to hear you say those words.”
Mat wiped her tears away. Then he leaned in and kissed her gently on the forehead before drawing her into his chest. “ Perdóname, mi amor . I shoulda told you years ago.”
Could she forgive him as he asked?
Little by little, the ice guarding her heart melted, but she worried what would happen when it was left unprotected. Her heart might forgive him, but her brain warned her to be cautious. He’d loved her then and walked away. Would he do the same thing again?
◆◆◆
Mateo
Mat held Imogen and wondered what possessed him. He’d told her he loved her. It was the truth, but where did it leave them?
He knew she cared for him, but it didn’t escape his notice that she hadn’t said the words back. Stroking her hair, he thought about her reaction. She’d been surprised, but something heavier had lingered in her eyes, in the tears she couldn’t hold back.
Even if she felt the same way, would she forgive him for leaving? His hand stalled on her back as he winced internally. Did he deserve it? Could they start over—start fresh? Did he even want that?
His stomach tied itself in knots. He wasn’t sure what he wanted except to keep her safe. All the other questions hounding him . . . they’d have to wait.
“You can stay here as long as you want. I’m gonna try and come back tomorrow, but if the lieutenant wants me to stay . . .”
He felt her sigh against his chest. “I understand.”
“You must be tired. Let me grab a pillow and a blanket, then you can have my room.”
She pushed off of him with a frown, turning down the corners of that cupid’s bow into a sexy pout. “Where are you going to sleep?”
He shrugged and thumbed a finger at the sofa. “Here.” He had a guestroom. He’d just never gotten around to outfitting it. Hell, he could count on one hand the number of times he’d actually slept in his home this past year.
“Oh.” Her soft response sounded so disappointed he waited for her to say more. She chewed her bottom lip, stirring the blood below his belt.
He didn’t want to pressure her, but he couldn’t help asking, “Unless you don’t want to sleep alone?”
Imogen shook her head, then climbed from the couch and offered her hand. “Stay with me?”
Something in her eyes told him she didn’t just mean for tonight. He wanted to say “Always,” but he couldn’t make promises he didn’t know he could keep. Taking her hand, Mat nodded.
She seemed satisfied with that as she tugged him to his feet and led him to the master suite. His eyes drifted to her curves as he followed. They were highlighted beyond compare in the costume she wore. He wanted to put his hands on the dip at her waist and run his fingers along the swell of her hip before grasping the tight globes of her perfect ass.
Distracted, he nearly tripped over the threshold to his room. She turned at the noise when he caught himself against the doorframe.
With a raised brow, she asked, “Can I borrow some clothes?”
His first thought was he’d much rather she wasn’t wearing any, but he swallowed down the need, clawing up his throat, and managed to say, “Sure.”
He glanced at his low platform bed, glad he’d remembered to make it the last time he’d stayed. The rest of the room looked tidy. Not because he kept it that way but because he hadn’t been there enough to mess it up. The nightstands on either side of the bed remained clear, apart from a charging station for his phone. No half-empty water glasses like usual. He walked to his double dresser across from the bed. The top was bare instead of strewn with whatever he’d managed to tuck into his pockets for the day.
Opening the first drawer, the sight of his star caught his eye. A part of him wanted to show the Ranger shield off to Imogen. He’d been so proud the day he’d earned it, but when they’d pinned it on his chest, the accomplishment had felt empty without her there to share it with.
Tucking those memories aside, he grabbed a pair of gym shorts and opened the second drawer for a t-shirt. When he had both, he offered them to her. “Try these.”
A nervous smile bloomed a rose on her cheeks. “Thanks.” She gestured toward the ensuite. “Mind if I use it first?”
“Go ’head.”
With one hand holding her dress up and the other holding the clothes, she struggled to close the bathroom door behind her. He swallowed a chuckle and helped.
“Thanks!” she called through the door.
Mat smiled and shook his head. Somehow, he’d made her nervous. If she’d been able to read his thoughts, she’d be a lot more so. But he wouldn’t pressure her. Whether they merely slept together or made love. It was her call.
Reaching for his flannel shirt, he unbuttoned it. Shrugging out of the material, he tossed it in the general direction of his hamper before pulling the t-shirt he wore underneath over his head. Next, he sat on the edge of the bed and kicked off his cowboy boots. His socks followed. When he had them in his hands, he rolled them into a ball and took a two-pointer into the hamper.
“Nice shot.”
He turned toward the bathroom at Imogen’s voice. She leaned against the frame, wearing only his t-shirt. She was so tiny it almost reached her knees. The gold paint was gone, and her face was flush from scrubbing it. She’d crossed her arms under her chest, making it apparent she’d also taken off the bikini part of her costume. The outline of her nipples drew his eyes.
Desire pooled in his mouth while warmth filled his chest. Seeing her in his clothes was a huge turn-on. Like she was his again.
“The shorts didn’t fit.” She shrugged with the statement and straightened, the drop of her arms making her breasts bounce.
Before he could form sentences, she threw the too-big clothing at his head. All he heard was her laughter as the shorts hit him in the face and fell into his lap.
“Guess I could say the same.” He grinned at her as he tossed them aside. “Nice aim.”
Because she grinned back, he stood up and slowly walked toward her. When he reached her, he leaned in, caging her in the doorway.
The pink had gone from her cheeks. Testing him, she tilted her chin. “I borrowed your toothbrush.”
“Did you?” Mat breathed in the mint on her breath. “Then you won’t mind if I do this.” Though it wasn’t a question, he moved with deliberate slowness, gliding his hands down her sides before tugging her into him. When she melted in his arms, he placed his lips on hers. She opened that tempting mouth for him, and he tasted the toothpaste she’d used with his tongue. Layered within it was a sweetness that was all Imogen.
Again, she pulled away first, tucking her forehead against his chest. He felt her fast breaths tickling his bare skin. She might be affected by the kiss, but her hands fisted the waist of his jeans to keep him at a distance.
Though he felt more than ready to make up for lost time, he wouldn’t rush her. Kissing the top of her head, he whispered, “Talk to me, Gen.”
“Can you just hold me tonight? I don’t . . . I can’t . . .”
He reached for her hands and pried them from his pants. Linking their fingers, he told her, “Whatever you want, amor .”
Her breath stuttered at the word love, but she nodded. “Thank you.”
Mat tried not to read too much into it. “Give me a minute, and I’ll join you.”
When he stepped away, her eyes pinched with sadness. “Okay.”
Worry settled into his gut as she climbed into bed. His instincts had been honed under years of law enforcement. And right now, they told him she didn’t trust him—not fully anyway.