Chapter 36 #2
His expression did not change.
“That means bad news.”
“No.”
“Your face—”
“All negative.”
The room fell quiet.
“Everything?”
“Everything.”
“Both of us?”
“Mine arrived too.”
He opened his phone and showed me.
Negative across the panel.
I read each line.
Then read them again.
No hidden illness.
No unknown betrayal.
No medical obstacle except the ones we already knew.
I handed back the phone.
Reid watched me.
“This does not create an obligation.”
“I know.”
“We do not have to do anything tonight.”
“I know.”
“Or this week.”
“Cal.”
“What?”
“Stop defending me from a decision I haven’t made yet.”
He went still.
I touched his beard.
“I’m grateful.”
“But?”
“It feels like you expect my answer to be fear.”
His eyes lowered.
“I expect fear to remain possible.”
“That is different.”
“Yes.”
I moved closer.
“I am afraid sometimes.”
“I know.”
“I am also hungry.”
“For food?”
I smiled.
“That too.”
He laughed softly.
We went downstairs after closing.
Caleb and Owen had left. Marian’s résumé rested on the office desk beside a note from the employment agency.
Reid finished the weekly environmental report while I sorted the mail.
A white envelope bore my name.
The clinic’s printed results.
Another addressed to Reid lay beneath it.
I held mine out.
“Read it.”
“You already know.”
“I want to hear you say it.”
He opened the envelope and scanned the page.
“Negative.”
“All?”
“All.”
I opened his.
“Also negative.”
“Good.”
“Very.”
He shut down the computer.
I remained seated on the edge of his desk.
“What?”
“Candidate two.”
Reid groaned.
“No.”
“He thought I was attractive.”
“He was unprofessional.”
“Both can be true.”
“You enjoyed that.”
“I enjoyed your face.”
“There was nothing unusual about my face.”
“You looked like you wanted to stamp property markings on me.”
His gaze sharpened.
“You are not property.”
“I know.”
I slid one hand over his shoulder.
“But being wanted by you is good.”
“Wanting and owning are not the same.”
“I know that too.”
He stood between my knees.
“I trust you.”
“I know.”
“I also disliked him looking at you.”
“Good.”
His eyebrows rose.
“Good?”
“I’ve never had anyone care enough to be jealous.”
“Noah.”
“Not controlling jealousy.”
I touched his mouth.
“Not the kind that decides who I speak to or what I wear.”
“What kind?”
“The kind that says I matter.”
His expression softened.
“You matter without anyone else wanting you.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“More often.”
He placed both hands at my waist.
“I will work on the face.”
“Don’t remove it entirely.”
A smile threatened.
“You’re impossible.”
“You hired me.”
“You criticized my wiring before the interview ended.”
“It was bad.”
“It was temporary.”
“It was dangerous.”
He kissed me.
The rest of the office fell away.
His mouth was warm and sure, his beard rough against my skin. My hands moved into his hair. He stepped closer until his hips rested between my knees.
Desire arrived easily.
Not borrowed.
Not evidence.
Mine.
I drew back first.
“Dinner.”
Reid’s breathing had changed.
“Now?”
“Lamb.”
“You planned lamb?”
“Earlier.”
“I’m impressed.”
“I also bought salad.”
“Less impressed.”
We locked the yard and went upstairs.
The lamb cooked quickly in a cast-iron pan with garlic and rosemary. I assembled salad while Reid sliced bread.
We ate at the table with the harbor windows open a crack to let out the smoke.
My phone remained silent.
Diane’s number stayed blocked.
The test results rested beside the green lamp.
After dinner, I sat on Reid’s lap.
Not because I needed care.
Because I wanted him.
His arms circled my waist.
“You’re tired,” he said.
“I slept four hours.”
“You experienced stress.”
“I used the plan.”
“You did.”
“I told you.”
“Yes.”
“I did not shut down.”
“No.”
Pride warmed his voice.
I kissed his cheek.
“Say it.”
“What?”
“That I handled it.”
“You handled it.”
“Better.”
His eyes warmed.
“You recognized the signs, asked for help, made a decision, ate, drank water, and recovered without turning one fear into an entire future.”
“Very clinical.”
“You asked for better.”
I kissed him again.
“The results are clear.”
“Yes.”
“My mother is blocked.”
“Yes.”
“Marian starts Monday if she accepts.”
“She already accepted.”
I leaned back.
“When?”
“While you slept.”
“Efficient.”
“She demanded authority to move the filing cabinets.”
“Terrifying.”
“Extremely.”
I touched the top button of Reid’s shirt.
“Things are changing.”
“They are.”
“Not all of it is bad.”
“No.”
I opened the button.
His gaze dropped to my fingers.
“This does not create an obligation,” I said.
A laugh escaped him.
“You’re mocking me.”
“A little.”
“Good.”
I opened the next button.
“I want to go to bed.”
“To sleep?”
“Eventually.”
His hands tightened at my waist.
“Tell me what you want before we move.”
The question did not cool my desire.
It gave it shape.
“I want to be naked with you.”
“Yes.”
“I want your hands.”
“Yes.”
“Your mouth.”
His breathing deepened.
“Yes.”
“I want you to prepare me the way we discussed.”
His eyes held mine.
“And penetration?”
“Maybe.”
“Not a promise.”
“No.”
“Position?”
“Side by side first.”
“Pain limit?”
“Anything sharp stops. Anything above three pauses.”
“Fear?”
“I tell you.”
“Dizziness?”
“I tell you.”
“Headache?”
“I tell you.”
I traced the edge of his collar.
“And if I ask you not to stop?”
“I still stop if you are no longer able to choose clearly.”
“That is irritating.”
“Yes.”
“Also correct.”
“Yes.”
I looked at him.
“Now tell me what you want.”
His hand moved up my back.
“I want to take you to bed.”
Heat surged through me.
“I want enough time that neither of us has to chase an ending.”
His thumb brushed the base of my neck.
“I want to touch every place you’ve been afraid of and leave it safer than I found it.”
My breath caught.
“And if tonight ends with nothing but you asleep against me, I want that too.”
I slid from his lap and stood.
The walking pole rested beside the counter.
I left it there.
Not because I hated it.
Because the bedroom was twelve steady steps away, and Reid walked beside me without hovering.
At the doorway, I turned.
He stopped before touching me.
Waiting.
I held out my hand.
“Come with me, Cal.”
His fingers closed around mine.
“Always.”