Page 110 of Caught from Behind

Once. Twice. Three times?—

“Fuck, I love you,” he groans as every muscle in his body goes taut, his beautiful brown eyes locked onto mine, the love he has for me—for me—shining out like the brightest rays of the sun.

But even with all that…

I still find that I can’t give him the words back.

“Are you sure you have to go in to work today?” he murmurs a while later, lips on my throat, teeth nipping at my earlobe.

My mouth tips up as I finish pouring the muffin batter into the tins then lean back against his hard chest, press a kiss to the side of his neck, inhaling deeply.

Yummy.

He used beard oil this morning, something I had the pleasure of witnessing after he carried my limp body into his bathroom and we showered together.

Well, really, I sat there like a well-pleasured lump of a human while he soaped me up, gently washed my hair, dried me off, then scooped me up and plunked me on the counter.

Where I got to see him groom that glorious beard.

Yum.

I inhale the scent of cinnamon and orange then kiss his throat again before dropping back onto my heels.

“Yup,” I say. “I have to go in to work. I have a full day of clients and I’ve been flaky enough lately.”

He scowls, but not at me, at his dad barking into his phone in the other room, yelling about some perceived inconvenience.

“…and then the doctor said…”

“You know what he told me last night after you scored?”

“In my bedroom?” he murmurs, pulling me flush against him.

I swat his arm, but don’t resist being wrapped up in him. “No,” I tell him, spinning in his arms, needing to see his face. “After your goal in the game last night.”

He rolls his eyes. “It doesn’t matter, chérie,” he says. “I think I’ve finally got to the point where I don’t really care.”

I touch his cheek. “I respect that,” I tell him gently. “Really, I do. But he…he was proud. He cheered and clapped.”

“I saw him sitting like a grumpy old man statue next to you, baby.” He covers my hand with his own then peels it from his cheek and presses a kiss to my palm. “You don’t have to sugarcoat it for me.”

“I’m not. He didn’t cheer for long, but when the crowd quieted, he told me that was a heads-up play with a good finish.”

His eyes widen.

“I’m not saying that you need to have him in your life—hell, based on what I’ve experienced and the shit Knox has told me he’s pulled over the years, you’re well within your rights to tell him to fuck off forever.” I sigh. “But I…I guess, if there’s a part of you that’s unresolved, that’s searching for…something that’s missing or you had once or—” I shrug, throat tight.

“Ella,” he whispers.

“I’m just saying it might be worth trying to hash it out,” I push out. “Set some boundaries, find something together that doesn’t tear you apart.”

Because I hate the idea that he has the same wound in his heart that I do.

And if there’s some way to repair it…

“I love you,” he whispers.

I close my eyes, the words washing over me in a warm rush of emotion. “Riggs,” I whisper.

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