Page 58 of How Much For A Broken Heart?

“Me neither.”

“This could be something. Right?”

He eased out, and I tied off the condom and discarded it. Then, we fell down next to each other, both sticky with cum and holding hands.

The words hit me hard—I wanted to stop him from going for Amos, to tell him how much he meant to me, to rescue him. But the words remained stuck in my throat, a knot of fear and longing. I loved him, and I knew it. It was more than just friendship; attraction had become lust, then had evolved into something deeper, but I couldn’t give a name to it when we were about to walk headlong into fuck knows what. I’d already seen him shot, nearly dying, and there was so much more I wanted to do with him. “It could be everything.”

“What if I…” He stopped, then, and dipped his gaze.

“What if maybe this could be love one day?” I asked, and he shot up so fast I thought I’d end up on the floor.

I had this desperate need to have a future for him—with him—and somehow love had crept into my thoughts, in all the bits where we made each other smile, or connected over the little things. It was in the way he gripped me when he’d been buried inside me, his eyes wide, begging me for something, or the way we lay in a tangle of limbs, trusting. He’d nearly died. I’d watched him sleep by his bed. We’d seen each other, and then, the kisses, and more, and there it was.

Love.

He didn’t have to do the rest of his life alone. I would be there to help him connect with Annie, to show him that there was life beyond the things he carried with him. But when I thought to tell him that, I saw the hesitation in his expression, and the situation was so fucked up that the words refused to come out. I was someone who took action, and now I was paralyzed by the fear of losing him.

“Pretend I didn’t say that,” I said.

“No, I’m falling for you, too,” he offered, soft and gentle.

“You are?”

He smiled. “Isn’t that what you want to hear?”

Guilt gripped me. “Is that what you want to say?”

Then, he kissed me. “Yes. I’m falling for you, and your stupid reading, and the poking at me, and I can see some kind of something in the future maybe.” His eyes widened, and he stumbled away, covering his mouth.

“Sounds good to me.” I grabbed him for a real kiss, heated, a promise of this maybe turning into something real; then, I went for a washcloth and came back to find him spread out in the middle of my bed.

“That should be me,” he mumbled and yawned.

I waved it away, wiped him and myself, then snuggled up to him again. He wrapped an arm around me, holding me close, and I rested my head on his chest.

Our phones both vibrated and I reached for mine. “Wheels up in sixty,” I read out, passing his battered phone to him.

“Same,” he said, and I could see the relief in his expression. “We’re doing this together then?”

I pressed a kiss to his clavicle where a bruise was forming. I’d marked him, he was mine now.

“We’ll always do things together,” I reassured him. “Shower seems a good place to start.” He groaned, and with his hand pressed to his belly, he rolled up and scrubbed his other hand over his face. “If you think you’re up for it, I might blow you?” I encouraged.

He snorted a laugh. “You can try.”

So, I did.

Chapter Twenty

AUGUST

An unmarked private jet took us to Montana, then it was a long drive through the rugged terrain to reach our destination. The mission had been laid out, the intel gathered, and now, it was time to put our training to the test. The familiar hum of the jet’s engines and the anticipation in the air were all too familiar.

I’d already sent a message to Josh, copying in my former SEAL team leader, asking if he could visit my bank and find the box of possessions, then get them sent to the safe house, via Josh, without revealing too much. He said he would, asked after me, and said we should get a beer.

I probably needed to do that.

Also, the thought of being able to give Annie her Buzzy-Bear made me hopeful. If I could give her that, then maybe, I could give her memories of her dad one day.

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