Page 23 of Wait for You

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Mateo

Mat held Imogen and wondered what possessed him. He’d told her he loved her. It was the truth, but where did it leave them?

He knew she cared for him, but it didn’t escape his notice that she hadn’t said the words back. Stroking her hair, he thought about her reaction. She’d been surprised, but something heavier had lingered in her eyes, in the tears she couldn’t hold back.

Even if she felt the same way, would she forgive him for leaving? His hand stalled on her back as he winced internally. Did he deserve it? Could they start over—start fresh? Did he even want that?

His stomach tied itself in knots. He wasn’t sure what he wanted except to keep her safe. All the other questions hounding him . . . they’d have to wait.

“You can stay here as long as you want. I’m gonna try and come back tomorrow, but if the lieutenant wants me to stay . . .”

He felt her sigh against his chest. “I understand.”

“You must be tired. Let me grab a pillow and a blanket, then you can have my room.”

She pushed off of him with a frown, turning down the corners of that cupid’s bow into a sexy pout. “Where are you going to sleep?”

He shrugged and thumbed a finger at the sofa. “Here.” He had a guestroom. He’d just never gotten around to outfitting it. Hell, he could count on one hand the number of times he’d actually slept in his home this past year.

“Oh.” Her soft response sounded so disappointed he waited for her to say more. She chewed her bottom lip, stirring the blood below his belt.

He didn’t want to pressure her, but he couldn’t help asking, “Unless you don’t want to sleep alone?”

Imogen shook her head, then climbed from the couch and offered her hand. “Stay with me?”

Something in her eyes told him she didn’t just mean for tonight. He wanted to say “Always,” but he couldn’t make promises he didn’t know he could keep. Taking her hand, Mat nodded.

She seemed satisfied with that as she tugged him to his feet and led him to the master suite. His eyes drifted to her curves as he followed. They were highlighted beyond compare in the costume she wore. He wanted to put his hands on the dip at her waist and run his fingers along the swell of her hip before grasping the tight globes of her perfect ass.

Distracted, he nearly tripped over the threshold to his room. She turned at the noise when he caught himself against the doorframe.

With a raised brow, she asked, “Can I borrow some clothes?”

His first thought was he’d much rather she wasn’t wearing any, but he swallowed down the need, clawing up his throat, and managed to say, “Sure.”

He glanced at his low platform bed, glad he’d remembered to make it the last time he’d stayed. The rest of the room looked tidy. Not because he kept it that way but because he hadn’t been there enough to mess it up. The nightstands on either side of the bed remained clear, apart from a charging station for his phone. No half-empty water glasses like usual. He walked to his double dresser across from the bed. The top was bare instead of strewn with whatever he’d managed to tuck into his pockets for the day.

Opening the first drawer, the sight of his star caught his eye. A part of him wanted to show the Ranger shield off to Imogen. He’d been so proud the day he’d earned it, but when they’d pinned it on his chest, the accomplishment had felt empty without her there to share it with.

Tucking those memories aside, he grabbed a pair of gym shorts and opened the second drawer for a t-shirt. When he had both, he offered them to her. “Try these.”

A nervous smile bloomed a rose on her cheeks. “Thanks.” She gestured toward the ensuite. “Mind if I use it first?”

“Go ’head.”

With one hand holding her dress up and the other holding the clothes, she struggled to close the bathroom door behind her. He swallowed a chuckle and helped.

“Thanks!” she called through the door.

Mat smiled and shook his head. Somehow, he’d made her nervous. If she’d been able to read his thoughts, she’d be a lot more so. But he wouldn’t pressure her. Whether they merely slept together or made love. It was her call.

Reaching for his flannel shirt, he unbuttoned it. Shrugging out of the material, he tossed it in the general direction of his hamper before pulling the t-shirt he wore underneath over his head. Next, he sat on the edge of the bed and kicked off his cowboy boots. His socks followed. When he had them in his hands, he rolled them into a ball and took a two-pointer into the hamper.

“Nice shot.”

He turned toward the bathroom at Imogen’s voice. She leaned against the frame, wearing only his t-shirt. She was so tiny it almost reached her knees. The gold paint was gone, and her face was flush from scrubbing it. She’d crossed her arms under her chest, making it apparent she’d also taken off thebikini part of her costume. The outline of her nipples drew his eyes.

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