Page 74 of Infinite
I smile, unable to stop myself. “Rose.”
My hand reaches for hers and she opens her palm to me as I lace our fingers.
“Our Rose.”
We both sit here for a minute, letting the enormity of this moment come over us.
After another second, I lift our hands and press my lips to the back of hers. I needed to feel her skin.
Ashton sighs and then gives me a soft smile. “In the last four days, we’ve come a long way, Quinn Miller. Look at us talking and dealing with the hard shit.”
“We sure have, Ashton Caputo, and hopefully, we’re just getting started.”
“I have faith.”
I have you. I think the words and bite my tongue to stop myself. I might have her, but if—when I leave . . . I’ll lose her.
* * *
“You’re a fucking tool.” Mark tosses some papers onto my desk.
“Good morning to you too, asshole.”
“Did you even read these files? There’s nothing in that region that is going to give you any answers, not that you’re going there for that reason. Pussy.”
I push the stack of useless info I wrote up to the side. “Then why do you give a shit about what’s on the papers?”
Mark flops down in the chair across from my desk. “Because you’re leaving and going to a hostile warzone for no reason.”
“I have plenty of reasons.”
My reasons are because she’s getting better, but my staying is going to be what derails her. Right now, my impending departure is what is pushing her to keep at it.
Mark laughs and rolls his eyes. “Every damn reason you have is bullshit, and you know it. If you want me to sign off on this trip, give me something that actually makes sense.”
He gets up and storms out of the room. Jackson already signed off when he said he understood and a man needs to make his choices when it comes to these things. I think he did it since I was kidnapped and he feels guilty. Mark doesn’t share that sentiment.
Since Ashton returned, which I can thank Natalie for telling him about, Mark has been dragging his feet. He wanted some sort of report as to where I was going and what my plans were. Since I had no plan or really any idea of what I was going to do once I got there, I felt this was a good thing.
Then I started to look and realized there’s not a goddamn thing I’m going to find.
Aaron was taken years ago. No one is going to remember him and the people who were involved are long gone.
Since Mark owns half the company, I need him to sign off as well as Jackson so I can actually get over there, but it doesn’t look like that is going to happen.
I lean back in the chair, hands laced behind my head, and groan. What the fuck am I going to do now? I could always go to the California office if I need to get away. Jackson is probably wanting to expand, and I would rather be there than torturing myself here.
Then comes the next emotional turmoil that follows when I think about leaving Ashton.
This last week has been like old times to some extent. She’s talking, even when it bothers her. We laugh, watch television, and God . . . kissing her brings it all back.
Last night, I had to take a cold shower before I climbed into bed with her. She scooted herself into my front so her hand sprawled on my chest, and I was instantly hard again. I want her so bad, but I won’t take her. Not when it’ll only wreck her when I go.
So, I jerk off each morning and take cold showers at night.
“Working hard or hardly working?” Her voice pulls me from my thoughts.
“Ash?”
