Page 69 of Gifts

He’s tossing his dirty clothes in a pile on my floor next to his bag as he runs a hand towel over the top of his head. Stray water droplets are chasing one another down his chest and my white fluffy towel is tucked low around his waist.

He drops the damp hand towel on my carpet, which would throw me into a tizzy at any other moment that Asa wasn’t standing in front of me almost naked.

“So, what do assassins do for fun on a Saturday night?” I ask, not knowing what else to say and my voice breaks in the process. Looking up into his hazel eyes that are penetrating mine, I’m forced to lick my lips so I can form the words and ask what’s really on my mind, “And, um, where are you planning on sleeping?”

Chapter 17

Brutally Beautiful

Keelie

Standing in front of me in only his towel, he crosses his arms, exhales, and his voice comes out gruff. “I was chasing down drug dealers, trying to find out who shot you and tried to shoot my daughter.”

“Oh.” I guess that shouldn’t surprise me.

“And I’m retired,” he corrects me.

“Sorry.” I bite my lip and he narrows his eyes, so I add, “Did you find what you were looking for? I don’t know you well, but you don’t seem like yourself. Or the self I’m used to. You know, the one who encourages me to sleep and drink wine when I should be taking care of shit.”

“Keelie,” he breathes, before leaning his head back to stare at my ceiling.

“You don’t seem happy.”

He looks down at me. “I’m not. All I learned tonight was the drive-by at my house was a warning to Emma. Our friend Raymond Wallace told me this, so I have no idea how true it is, but for some reason, my gut’s telling me it’s not far off the mark. So no, I’m the opposite of happy right now.”

“A warning?” I ask. “A drive-by does not say warning. And why would anyone deliver a message like that to Emma?”

“I have no fucking clue, and since she won’t tell me shit, it seems easier to chase down drug dealers than drag it out of her. I don’t know what the fuck I’m gonna do with her. Danielle wants them to come to California for good—she’s on fire about it.” He rubs his face and shakes his head, and for the first time, I see a tinge of pain lying behind his rugged features. “I just got them back.”

Seeing the hurt and worry in him is too much. I stand to take a step and place a light hand on his abs. He’s warm, either from his shower or just being him. Without looking up, I lightly trace a scar spanning his abdomen to his side and change the subject. “How did you get this?”

His breath caresses my forehead. “I was jumped in Central America.”

I look up at him in question and without making me ask further, he gives me the truth, just as he said he always would.

“It was almost eleven years ago. It had nothing to do with my work. I was on my way home from an assignment. My job was dangerous, but I controlled the situations.”

I nod and look back to my fingers, bringing my other hand up, allowing myself the pleasure, the thrill, the exhilaration of being close to someone. Touching a man for the first time in what seems like an eternity. My heart strums as his breath feathers across my face.

Oxygen.

Heartbeats.

Life.

But more than all that combined…

Trust.

And it’s not just any man.

This is Asa. No one in my life has made my heart speed, my blood warm, and my head spin without thought. The want and need is taking over my brain and body.

But I hate to see him hurt. Just like when my kids hurt, I want to do anything and everything to take that away, because to see someone I care about in pain cuts me to the core.

Of all the emotions flowing through me, this one wins. At this moment, I’d give everything I own to make him better.

Feeling his hand at my face, he lifts my chin and without missing a beat, I push up on my toes and put my mouth on his.

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