Page 156 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
Stealing my chance to reply, he removes eggs, bacon, and a loaf of bread from the fridge. He doesn’t ask what I'd like to eat. That isn’t how he operates. He’s so confident he can read me, he doesn’t feel the need to seek assurance. I'm starving, so I'll happily eat anything he presents without protest. I did the same thing yesterday when he took care of me.
Isaac was attentive and gentle while also being firm when needed. He stressed that nothing I could have done would have made a difference because the gentleman hanging in the barn was most likely deceased before I became an agent. He gave me space to gather my thoughts in peace before offering a shoulder to cry on when the vivid images became too much to bear. He’s been perfect in every single way, and my love for him has grown even more substantial the past twenty-four hours.
With loved-up eyes, I hop off the kitchen counter. “Did you need any help?”
Isaac stares at me, dumbfounded. He discovered the hard way that I’m not a skilled cook. One morning, I set the toaster on fire. It wasn’t my fault. I wanted my toast a little browner, but when Isaac distracted me with his skillful tongue, I forgot I had pressed the toast button down for the second time.
I twist my lips. “I can make coffee?”
Isaac smiles before pointing to an overhead cabinet above my head. “Coffee and sugar are in there.”
For the next twenty minutes, Isaac prepares scrambled eggs, maple syrup bacon, and French toast. The smell filtering through the cabin is nearly as intoxicating as him. I aid him the best I can. I gather the eggshells from the counter and place them in the waste bin before setting the small two-seater table in the living area with cutlery, placemats, and glasses. It's early in the morning, but the setting looks like a romantic date since it's next to an open fireplace.
When Isaac gathers two plates overflowing with scrumptious breakfast treats, I grab the pot of coffee and carton of orange juice. The only audible noise heard for the next several minutes are the moans erupting from my mouth as I sample each delicious item on my plate. Isaac remains quiet, but I can feel him watching me which, in turn, makes my moans more dramatic than necessary. I can’t help but tease him.
Satisfied, and full to the brim, I push my plate away before leaning back in my chair. As I rub my almost bulging stomach, I scan the room. It’s a decent size, nearly the size of the living room in my apartment, but exposed vaulted ceilings give it a homey feel. The roof is curved just like the half circle window in Isaac’s bedroom, and it is varnished in the same color. A framed oil painting of a country setting hangs above the open fireplace, and a selection of framed photos are below it.
My inner monologue trails off when my eyes zoom in on a picture in the center of the mantelpiece. It’s of me—sleeping.
I shoot my eyes to Isaac. “When did you take that?”
His lips lift against his mug. “The night you slept at my apartment. That was after you gave me your panties.”
When my mouth falls open, he cockily winks. After standing from his seat, he gathers the picture I’m referring to. It’s a close-up photo of my face. My eyes are shut, my mouth is ajar, and smears of mascara are under my eyes.
I gag. “Why would you frame that? I look wretched.”
Isaac’s grin slackens as he murmurs, “It’s the only photo I have of you.”
A dull ache hits my chest. Because we were forced to keep our relationship a secret, we never got to be an average couple. We didn’t go on fancy dates or meet each other’s friends and family. We kept our life hidden away, not just from the world, but ourselves as well. Our relationship was never given a chance to get out of the gates since it was shrouded in secrecy from the beginning.
“I’m going to resign from my position at the FBI.”
Isaac places my photo back onto the mantel before pivoting around to face me. “I don’t—”
“I’m not just doing it for you, Isaac.” I join him near the fireplace. “I'm also doing it for me. I can’t live without you, but I can’t have both you and my career, so I’m choosing you above anything else.”
He cups my cheek, his thumb rubbing the invisible tears he thinks he sees in my eyes. “If Theresa’s investigation is rattling you, don’t worry about it. My lawyer is working on having her investigation squashed. She has no credible evidence against you. Once it's cleared, we can be together.”
“It isn’t IA or Theresa I'm worried about. It’s me. I literally can’t breathe without you in my life. The past two weeks, everything was numb. Not just my heart, but my entire body.” Tears loom in my eyes. “Furthermore, the Bureau could transfer me to anywhere in the country on a whim. I don’t want that.”
He clasps my hand in his, then lifts it to his mouth. Anticipation sparks through me when he kisses my palm. He doesn’t need to speak any words to reflect that he cares for me. His actions show it. His dominance. The way he protects me. Every little thing he does demonstrates that he cares for me more than words ever could. Some people may call me naïve, especially since it’s so early in our relationship, but I’d give up everything I have to ensure Isaac remains a part of my life.
“I don’t care about anything that's happened in your past, Isaac. The vendetta with Col, your fighting career, I don’t care about any of it. It’s in the past, and it can stay in the past. I want to concentrate on our future. Right here and now. Nothing else matters.”
His brows fetter. “So you want to sweep it under the rug, pretend it never happened?”
I shake my head. “No. You’ll always remember what happened. Just like you'll always love Ophelia.” His shoulders square at my comment, but he remains quiet. “I can live with that, Isaac. As long as I have you in my life, I can handle anything.”
He takes a few moments to consider my statement before seeking my gaze. “And what happens if this doesn’t work?” He gestures his hand between us. “What happens to you then?”
A painful knot twists in my stomach, but I’m confident enough in what we have to shut it down just as quickly as his worries. “That willneverhappen. I’m yours, Isaac, and you’re mine.”
Pride flashes in his eyes pleased I responded how he’d hoped. That’s not the only thing they’re displaying, though. Cockiness is also beaming out of him. I wonder if I can shut it down just as swiftly?
“But if it did…” His grin slackens as he glares at me. “… I’ll just find another sugar daddy to take care of me.”
My knees buckle when a sexy-as-sin growl emits from his mouth. He yanks me closer to him by gripping my ass cheeks, plastering my body to his. When his mouth seals over mine, I inwardly cheer at the success of my tease. His kiss is dominating, greedy, and toe-curling good. It promises his next set of words is nothing but a guarantee.
