Page 78 of Firefly (Redemption 2)

After clearing his throat, Maverick turned and went to sit in the chair near the couch, dropping one of the sandwiches in front of Libby with a mumbled, “Here,” as he did.

She made grabby hands at the sandwich before snatching it up. “And what did I do to deserve this? You know, besides being the only amazing one in this entire effing house.” Without giving Maverick a chance to respond, Libby fixed her attention on Johnny. “If I were you, I would go before you find yourself in trouble with your girl.”

“Go,” I said when he made no move to leave.

As soon as he was out of the living room and headed down the hall toward the room he and Einstein shared, Libby sent me a wide smile before taking a huge bite.

Maverick wasn’t eating, his head was turned just enough so he could look in the direction Johnny had just left.

“Someone tell me,” I demanded.

“Maybe you should walk into the kitchen and find out for yourself.”

I studied her challenging glare for another second before heading toward the kitchen, where I could hear Diggs giving directions on how to make a sandwich.

And came to an abrupt stop when I saw the girl sitting on a stool, watching Diggs with equal parts fascination and disgust as he made the biggest sandwich I’d ever seen.

Firefly.

She inhaled sharply, one of her hands reaching for the back of her neck just before she twisted on the seat to look at me.

“Dare,” she breathed, her lips stretching into a smile.

I don’t remember moving.

I only remember staring at her like she was a hallucination, and then the next second I was pulling her off the barstool and into my arms.

I buried my nose in her hair, breathing her in to assure myself she was there and real, and I hadn’t lost my fucking mind.

“Goddamn firefly,” I whispered, then brushed my lips against her neck.

She pushed against my shoulders until I reluctantly set her down. “Is it okay that I’m here?” she asked hesitantly. “I know it’s kind of late to ask now. But you can tell me to leave and I—”

I captured her mouth with my own, needing to taste her and needing her to know I didn’t want her anywhere else but with me. “Where did you come from?” I asked against her lips.

“I told you I’d try to be around.”

A laugh rumbled in my chest as I leaned back to look at her. “I thought you meant the next day. Or the next. Not . . . shit, days.”

Her brows pinched, worry and exhaustion and pain filling her eyes. She tilted her head like she was going to explain then shook it instead. “I’m sorry.”

“You made no promises,” I reminded her.

But from the silence that settled between us, it didn’t make it any easier for her than it had me.

“Dare,” she began, but paused, her eyes widening and body stiffening before she slowly looked to the side.

When I looked in that direction, I found Diggs hunched over the island counter with a dopey grin as he watched us, with that massive sandwich falling apart between his hands.

“Come on.” I curled my arm around her shoulders, pulling her close as I led her through the kitchen to the hall toward my room.

That constant buzz between us burned hotter, the space between us grew thick with tension. As if the energy around us already knew where this night was headed.

As soon as we were in my room I kicked the door shut and turned her around, pressing her against the hard wood—my grip tight on her hips and face buried in the crook of her neck.

“I fucking missed you,” I whispered, confessing the words that had bounced through my head since she’d walked away from me at Brooks.

A stuttered breath left her, one of her hands curling against my stomach where it rested.

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