Page 30 of One Last Stand

Oh, she was so . . . amazing. Strong and beautiful, and he put a hand to her cheek to catch a tear that edged out of her eye. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

She opened her eyes, the anger gone. “I forgive you,” she said softly, then shook her head. “Poor Shep. I’d lose it if I lost”—she swallowed—“you.”

Her words warmed him through. “Me too.”

And of course he kissed her. Pressed his lips to hers, and she was willing and soft and sort of melted into him.

Wow, he loved this woman.

She tasted of coffee from her plane ride and had lost some weight, maybe, from stress, but she slid her arms around his body, holding on. He wanted to deepen his kiss, his hunger for her rising through him, but . . . well, not yet.

It was probably a good thing when she pushed herself away. “My daughter is in the next room, and your friends are in crisis downstairs, and . . . I should go home.”

“Not tonight. I want to make sure you’re safe and . . . I don’t know. I’m still looking over my shoulder a little.”

She stepped away. Sighed. “Me too. So okay, I’ll stay—for tonight. And I’ll let you feed me.”

“I asked Axel to buy pie.”

“Of course you did.” She sat down on the bed. “So, how is Shep?”

“Not great. It feels strange that London wouldn’t have told him she was alive.”

“Reasons, she said.”

“And I want to hear them. But Shep and she . . . they have history. They survived a trauma together in Switzerland a few years ago, and . . . I don’t know. That feels cruel—to be alive and not tell the people you love.”

She nodded, her mouth tight, and looked away.

“Oh, Til, I wasn’t referring to you and your dad or?—”

She held up a hand. “I didn’t know my dad was alive, and he didn’t know where to find me. It’s all good.”

Right.And she’d spent the last month fixing that deep wound between them.

“But . . . do you think London faked her death?”

“Clearly.”

“So why now? Why come backnow?”

He had nothing.

“Go downstairs. I’m going to find some clean pajamas for my daughter.” She smiled. “Feels good to officially call her that.”

“Yeah.” Then he leaned down and kissed her forehead. Somehow refrained from saying, “I look forward to that day too.”

He left her in the bedroom and headed downstairs.

Axel was on his phone, searching a map.

Flynn was texting.

London was pacing, looking at her watch.

“Okay, London. Please tell me. . . . How are you back from the dead?”

CHAPTER4

---