Page 87 of Sweet Sin

What if he said them in the heat of the moment? What if he regrets them? What if—

“Fuck, Savannah.”

I move forward and push the hair off his sweaty forehead. “It’s okay.”

“I wanted to…”

“I know. But I was being selfish. This isn’t all about me.” I caress his face. “You’re in this as much as I am, Falcon. Thank you for helping me see that.”

“No one will harm you,” he says, his jaw still clenched. “No one will ever touch one hair on that pretty head of yours. Not while I’m breathing.”

I draw in a breath.

His words are beautiful. Caring. Protecting.

But they’re not a declaration of love.

It was the heat of the moment, nothing more.

I curl into his arms. I want to hear the words again. Desperately. But now I’m going to take what I need. Comfort in his arms. In his mere presence.

Falcon Bellamy represents so much more than strength.

He’s compassion.

He’s protection.

He’s armor for me in this moment.

And I wrap myself in him.

Morning comes more quickly than I expect. I slept soundly in Falcon’s arms, but when my eyes open, he’s gone.

I find him out front with the dogs. He put up a makeshift fence with garden netting between what look like wooden stakes to keep Sammy from running off. Sydney’s a good girl and comes when she’s called, but Sammy’s a pup. He needs to learn.

He’s sitting on the stoop drinking a mug of coffee.

“Morning,” I say.

He turns. “Hey. There’s coffee.”

“Yeah. I’ll get a cup.”

I return a moment later with a mug of the steaming coffee.

“What next?” I ask, taking a seat next to him.

“I already got a phone call this morning. I need to go in for questioning about Abel’s death.”

I swallow. “It’s just questioning.”

“That’s what they’re saying, anyway.” He takes a sip from his mug. “I’ve got our attorney meeting me there. It’s all good.”

It’s not all good.

None of this should be happening. It’s all on me.

“I’ll go with you,” I say.

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