Page 91 of Wilde and Deadly

He exhaled slowly to ease the sudden tightness in his chest. “I know.” He covered her hand with his. “But if I show up with an entourage, Cade will take one look and vanish. He won’t talk if he thinks it’s an ambush.”

Liam nodded slowly. “Cade’s a ghost when he wants to be. If he vanishes, we won’t find him.”

Rowan’s breath hitched—subtle, but he caught it. She knew he was right. But that didn’t mean she had to like it. “I hate this plan.”

“Me too,” Sabin said. “But if Davey’s dead set on bein’ a stubborn bastard, best we work around it.”

Rowan’s nails bit into his skin briefly before she let go. “Ifanythingfeels off, you run. No heroics.”

Before he could respond, she grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him down into a kiss—fierce, desperate, laced with everything she couldn’t say out loud.

Davey wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her in tight, stealing every ounce of warmth she pressed against him. His fingers slid into her hair, holding her there, needing this, needing her, needing to remind himself what he was fighting for.

When she pulled back, she didn’t step away. She fisted her hands in his shirt like she wasn’t ready to let go, and her gaze searched his, raw and unguarded. “When this is over, I’ll say yes.”

The word was so quiet, so full of something fragile and fierce all at once, that for a second, he thought he’d imagined it.

His breath caught.

A thousand things rushed to the tip of his tongue—a promise, a vow, a fierce declaration that he’d get them through this, no matter what. But he couldn’t speak past the knot in his throat, so instead, he framed her face in his hands, brushing his thumbs over her cheekbones.

“Damn right you will.” His voice was rough, filled with everything he couldn’t put into words.

She let out a shaky breath, her lips quirking just slightly. “Then come back to me, Wilde.”

His heart twisted painfully. He wanted to promise her. Wanted to say nothing in the world could keep him from her.

Instead, he kissed her one last time, slow and deep, lingering like he could sear this moment into his memory.

And then Sabin cleared his throat. “If y’all are gonna start makin’ babies right here, I’d rather know so I can make a graceful exit. I like to watch, but you’re like a brother, and that’s just nasty.”

Rowan sighed and dropped her head to his shoulder, closing her eyes briefly before muttering, “I really hate him.”

Sabin grinned. “Now,cher. Given how much you hated Davey just a few weeks ago, I’ll take that as the highest of compliments.”

Davey shook his head, pressing one last quick kiss to Rowan’s temple before stepping back.

A quiet snort drew his attention, and his eyes flicked over to Daphne, still half-hidden behind her laptop. She didn’t look up, but there was no missing the way her lips curved—not into a smirk, not into a sneer, but into something dangerously close to a smile.

Huh. Weird.

Daphne wasn’t exactly the smiling type. His cousin was about as goth as a person could get without literally haunting a graveyard. She was black clothes, sharp eyes, and had that dry, deadpan voice that made people second-guess whether she was joking or planning something vaguely illegal.

And yet, here she was, clearly amused.

She noticed him watching and casually dragged her sleeve across her mouth like she could wipe away the expression before anyone called her on it. “I’ll keep digging. If Cade’s being framed, I’ll find proof.”

Davey nodded. “Do that.”

Sabin stretched, then cracked his knuckles. “And me? I’ll go make some coffee that don’t taste like swamp water boiled with battery acid.”

Liam bristled. “My coffee is perfectly fine.”

Sabin scoffed. “Yeah, if you like sufferin’.”

“It’s coffee, not a damn dessert.”

Sabin gestured toward Davey’s untouched cup. “It’s a hate crime against taste buds, is what it is.”

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