Page 111 of Silent Partner (Pine Falls 3)

He took my free hand between his own, cradling it as if it were priceless to him. “Kinsley, I can promise you a lifetime of love and laughter, and hard times that we’ll get through together.”

“Yeah, about those hard times,” I whispered.

“Yes, being with me won’t be easy. My family is heading into a firestorm right now. Not to mention what transpired between me and your sister.”

“I want so badly to not think of you and Dani together.” I practically cried, wishing he could wave a magic wand and make it go away.

“I wish I could make you forget. But the truth is, it happened. I own that. But it in no way reflects on how I feel about you,” he begged me to believe him.

“How do you love me and sleep with my sister?” There was no bite to my tone, just an immense desire to understand so I could hopefully move on.

“Very painfully. I don’t look back on that night with any pleasure.”

“None?” I questioned incredulously.

“None at all,” he said firmly, driving that point home with a fervent look that willed me to believe him. His forehead met mine, and he barely brushed his lips across mine. “Kinsley, I love you. I know none of this is fair to you, but if you give me the chance, I will make sure you don’t have to think about Dani and me, because I plan to prove to you that you are the only one for me.

I twisted his shirt in my hand, which had traveled from his hair down to his chest. “I want that so badly.”

“That’s a start.”

“I suppose it is.” I knew I had to make the choice to believe and move forward, but it was easier said than done.

“Kins,” he groaned my name. “If you only knew how much I have longed for these moments with you—to hold you and kiss you and talk to you—you would never doubt the depth of my feelings for you. Or how badly I want to bake cookies with you,” he added with a smile in his voice.

I giggled, thinking of that night with the girls. “That night you said that when you returned home, we would talk about baking cookies together. But tonight, you said you’re not baking cookies until you’re married. Did you mean—”

“That I was talking about marrying you someday? That’s exactly what I meant.” He smiled.

“Oh,” I said, in a pitch I’m sure only a dog could hear.

“I’m sorry if that scares you. I know that being part of my family comes with risks. And I realize I’m moving fast, but I know what I want. I want you.” He nuzzled my neck and ran his hand up my bare leg until it landed on my thigh. His fingers dug in, making sure they went no farther.

I gasped all the same. His touch and even his words were electrifying. It felt different from anything I had ever experienced, yet it was the most familiar thing in the world. “Brant,” I stuttered out, hardly able to catch my breath while his lips brushed the skin on my neck. I tipped my head back to give him more room to play with. He took the invitation and trailed kisses down to the hollow of my neck.

“Yes?” he breathed against my throat, making every inch of my skin raise.

“Speaking of risks,” I said breathlessly, “what are we going to do about the Copelands?” I hated to ruin the moment, but it was important.

“Give me a minute,” he murmured before his lips found mine and decimated them.

The way his mouth moved over mine and his tongue danced in my mouth, he could have all the minutes. Second upon second upon second, I let him consume me. There were no questions in his touch, even though he handled me with care, making sure not to cross any lines. More than anything, that showed me how he felt about me. I wasn’t a conquest or a one-night stand. Every tender touch of his hand, or gentle sweep of his tongue, said he saw me as his future.

As the kiss slowed, he drew me to him and laid us down together, so we were face-to-face, breathing the same labored breaths, by-products of the sweetness we had just shared. We took a moment to do some eye gazing, while our breathing slowed and emotions simmered to a low boil. Brant’s legs tangled with mine as he smiled, making it obvious he had no intention of letting me go.

“I like this arrangement,” he spoke low.

“Me too.” I buried my head in his chest.

“About your earlier question,” he hesitated to say.

I almost didn’t want him to address it. I was quite cozy and ready to fall asleep in his arms.

“My dad called Edward Copeland today.”

I turned into a human tension rod, waiting to hear what he said next.

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