Page 57 of Come Here and Kiss Me

“No,” he tells me as if he can.

As if I’ll just do what he says.

He adds, “You will?—”

“I will do what I want and never wanted to go anyway.” My tone is just as hard as his, and I meet his gaze evenly. “I’ve made my decision.”

His expression softens, and he stares at me from the doorway like he’s shocked and doesn’t understand.

“But you love it now, don’t you?” he questions.

Love.

When he uses that word, everything crumbles, including my facade that the message from my father didn’t cut me to the bone.

It was one night.

One mistake.

If it even was a mistake.

Tears prick at the back of my eyes.

“Brook, kitten, don’t cry.”

He comes out in the hall and wraps his arms around me. He holds me like he actually cares.

I can’t help it.

I’m weak for him.

I bury my head in his chest, finding the warmth I desperately need and a masculine scent I’ve grown addicted to.

I don’t want to let this go.

Not now.

Not when I need to get lost and forget and just feel like it will all be all right, even if it’s just for a moment.

He leads me inside although I’m not really conscious of it all. Only when the door shuts and the familiar warmth wraps itself around me do I realize I did what I promised myself I wouldn’t.

I let myself come back through these doors.

Pulling away from him, with hands still on his chest but looking him in the eye, I say, “Promise me you didn’t do this.”

As I swallow and his piercing eyes seem to look through me, I know at this moment, even if I thought he was lying, I would pretend I didn’t see it.

Just to survive.

If he did, I don’t know how I could move on.

“I swear, I would never do that to you,” he discloses, and he’s so very confident in the statement.

I don’t know, though.

He looks at me like he’s desperate for me to believe him. Like he knows he’s lying.

“Fuck, I’m going to be your husband,” he adds, and I know it’s because he’s wondering if I came here to do what I came to do.“I would never.”

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