Page 72 of Forbidden Need

“You trust me?”

“You know I do.”

Tipping her head forward, he kissed her hair. “Then trust me,” he murmured against her.

Drinks were poured and passed out, the noise level rose. Strat stood with the expansive group. Like she could read his mind, she sighed. He didn’t have to look at her all disapproving like that. Yes, there were things she needed to tell Conn. There just hadn’t been… time.

“To Alderman McLeod,” Conn said, raising his glass. “Without him, we wouldn’t have our Bluebell. Sláinte.”

The group reciprocated and drank.

Dropping her weight against his upper arm, she waited until he’d swallowed before speaking. “You know you just thanked my grandfather for having sex.”

Without shame, his eyes found hers. “As it’s our responsibility to do the same.”

“Ire!” someone called and he shifted closer to the voice while sticking next to her.

The same? They were supposed to have sex? No problem there, but… had he just implied they’d have kids? This day could not get any heavier.

TWENTY-SEVEN

“TALK TO ME.”

“Hmm?” she asked, eyes closed as she counted the beats of his heart beneath her head.

Satisfied didn’t cover it when talking about their sex life. Sated and boneless, it was a wonder she remembered how to breathe.

His fingers tangled in her hair then combed themselves loose. “Your mind’s racing.”

How did he know that? She could ask, but it didn’t matter. Why shouldn’t her lover read her thoughts?

“Strat asked if I need therapy. Steeple brought it up too.”

“Do you?”

Her smile touched his chest. In bed in the dark, in his loft, she’d been spoiled with his presence that day.

“There are things I haven’t… said.”

“Talk to me.”

“I don’t know…” And he just let the silence hang. “Sometimes the suggestion offends me… But when I’m alone, it’s like… My mind gets busy and I feel like I’m losing my grip.”

“I’ve got you.”

“I trust in that.” She didn’t need a handle on things because Conn would always steady the wheel. “I think about it sometimes, for no reason… that word I struggle to say.”

“Attack,” he said without hesitation. He’d been the one to point out her hesitancy first. “You think about the attack.”

“I asked Lach not to bring it up at Stag because it was a raw nerve and here I am—”

“Nothing’s off-limits between us. Talk to me.”

With that permission, the words just started coming. “It’s cold, you know? This lingering thing that just—for no reason, I get a shot of, the memory and… I feel exposed, vulnerable, I suppose you could call it.” She exhaled. “I replay that night and I… I’m not usually that oblivious, so unaware of…”

“Keep going.

“The way I reacted when I lost Stag. I’d never been so adrift; I honestly didn’t know what to do. I guess that’s why I just mindlessly walked away. I wasn’t thinking about traffic or people; I sank like I’d been sucker punched. Never again was a long time. The thought of never seeing you again… We’d been so amazing, to have that snatched away from me…” The alcohol and hormones combined to loosen her lips and she just kept going. “He picked me up, the first one, his hand closed over my mouth—I didn’t know what was happening until my head hit concrete.” His grip bunched in her hair. She smoothed a hand down his torso and eased away to rest her head on her own pillow. “It was instinct. I didn’t think, I just acted. Smart or not.”

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