Okaaaay. I’m still not catching what you’re laying down though …?
I record the narration on a voice note and send it to her, catching enough of the audio to provide Sloane with a colorful segment of ass foreplay.
Oh. My. God.
I told him to crack a romance book. I didn’t think he’d actually DO IT ahahaha
My head tilts. I reread Sloane’s message.
You told him to what …?
I glance at Lachlan as he heaves the last box from the ground. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t notice the way his clothes strain across his taut muscle, or the way my belly clenches in response.
Crack a romance book
Why? Now I’m not catching what YOU’RE laying down
So he could learn how to talk to you without being such an asshat
He wanted to know about the claustrophobia thing. I told him to go fuck himself and read a book. I think he just wanted to connect with you. Kind of cute, actually. Dumb but cute.
Hold on a second … is it working?!
Sloane’s question rattles around in my head. I lower my phone and notice in my periphery Lachlan locking up the shop.
I’ve gotta go
Several texts buzz in my pocket when I shove my phone in my jacket, but I ignore them. Lachlan strides toward the car. He doesn’t notice that the door is locked until he tries the handle, then meets my eyes with confusion as I hold down the push button lock for dramatic effect. A wicked grin creeps into my lips. With one finger still pressed to the lock, I reach toward the dial and turn it up until it’s nearly deafening.
The look of pure mortification on Lachlan’s face is delectable.
“Fuck fuck fuck.”
I can’t hear him between the audiobook playing at full volume and my maniacal laugh, but I can certainly see the word repeated across his full lips as he scrambles for his phone. He pats down every pocket until he finally finds it. The recording comes to an abrupt stop, and I pout as he glowers at me through the window.
The moment I pull the lock button up, Lachlan whips the door open.
“Well. That was enlightening,” I say as I rise from the driver’s seat and block Lachlan’s access to the vehicle. The heat in his gaze washes over me. I’m standing too close. I should step to the side, out of the radiant warmth that spills through me as Lachlan stares down into my eyes. His cheeks are still crimson with embarrassment and something else. Something hot and dangerous. Something that smolders in his eyes.
Desire.
I know I should move, but I don’t.
“What was that one called?”
Lachlan swallows. He doesn’t answer so I lean a little closer. Though I expect him to back away, he doesn’t.
“Maybe I want to listen to it,” I continue, letting my teasing smile mask the burst of need that coils low in my belly. “It would sound good through the speakers in my room. At night. With the lights down low.”
What the hell is wrong with me?
What am I doing? This is insanity. Sure, Lachlan wants me to forgive him for our shitty first meeting, but pushing these kinds of buttons might just invite more suffering than either of us can bear.
My smile fades. He won’t tell me, and I shouldn’t want to know.
“Fine, Batman.” I squeeze between him and the polished black metal. “Keep your secrets to yourself—”
Lachlan catches my wrist. His glasses do little to disguise the frustration in his eyes. I still think he’s not going to tell me. But then he says, “Death’s Obsession.”
A faint smile plays on my lips as Lachlan releases my wrist and takes a step back.
“Get in, you feckin’ catastrophe,” he says, his voice gruff. “We’ve got places to be.”
It takes a second longer than it should for my feet to start moving, but then I stride toward the rear of the vehicle, my steps a little lighter than I thought they’d be. “I think we should listen to it on the way—”
“Not a feckin’ chance.”
“Okay then.”
Lachlan puts music on. We don’t talk much, so I hum along and watch the city lights as they slip past my window. I feel safe in this bubble of steel and black leather. Lachlan’s energy is as gravitational as an imploding star’s. His thoughts churn, but never release. It feels like he has so many things to say but no means to let them loose, so they coil inside. More and more, I want to know what they are. I need to know.
“I’m kind of looking forward to this,” I say, trying to break the tension that’s crept into the silence. “I feel like a spy.”
Lachlan lets out an unconvinced hmph. “Hopefully it won’t be that exciting. Let’s just grab the files we need and get out.”
“But it’s Friday night at the club. We should at least check it out a little. Who knows, you might actually have fun.” I gasp theatrically and clutch a fist against my heart. “You do know how to have fun … right?”
“I’ll have you know—”
“You don’t. I already know that,” I say flatly before I let go of a dramatic sigh as we stop at a red light. “I guess I’ll just have to have enough fun for both of us.”
I wink, stoking the flame that always seems to burn deep within Lachlan. He holds my gaze, unerring. “You’ll be careful. That’s what you’ll feckin’ do. The person we’re looking for could be at that party.”
“And what, you think they would do something in public?” I shake my head. “We’re talking about someone who’s obviously careful to kill in private and who keeps to a set schedule.”
“I don’t care, Lark,” Lachlan says. “And if this is some barmy plan of yours to goad a killer out of hiding, don’t even think about it.”
My teasing smile falters and I turn my gaze to the road ahead. “It’s not. Don’t worry.”
A honk sounds from behind us. Lachlan mutters a curse and the car surges forward. For a long moment, I think we’ll be riding the rest of the way in silence, but after just a few blocks I feel Lachlan’s eyes on me. The moment I glance in his direction, he catches my hand from my lap and holds on.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you. Maybe I’m overthinking it. But just be careful, yeah?” He squeezes my hand, my wedding set trapped beneath the pressure of his palm. “I want you to be safe. I’m worried about you.”
An ache slides into my chest, burning hot and unexpected. When Lachlan lets go of my hand, I catch his before it reaches the steering wheel, and the responding surprise in his expression is unguarded, a reaction that I store away in memory. “I will. I promise.”
I lift my palm away and offer an untroubled smile. But I can tell something is still roiling within Lachlan. It doesn’t pass—definitely not when we park and he pulls a gun from the glove compartment to holster it at his back, nor when we head toward the entrance of the building. He keeps a hand on the small of my back as we walk through the lobby and head for the elevators. One arrives just as a small group enters the building and catches up with us, and they follow us inside with no acknowledgment that the elevator is beyond capacity. A tiny burst of anxiety flares inside me as my back presses to the wall, but at least we’re not in the dark. Rather than face the doors, Lachlan turns toward me. We’re so close I can feel his body heat. His eyes stay trained on mine. My heart knocks a stuttered rhythm when his hand presses to my waist.
“You okay, duchess?” he whispers as the elevator starts its ascension. The group around us talks and laughs, oblivious to the electric charge that seems to encase Lachlan and me.
“Yeah.” My eyes fix on Lachlan’s lips and I can’t seem to tear them away. I’m caught up in the heat that rolls from his body. He’s so close that I can smell a hint of the mint on his breath. “I’m fine.”
I could so easily reach up and wrap my hand around his nape and draw his mouth to mine. I could discover where this current takes us, see if it ignites or destroys. Maybe I could confess that I think about our moment on Rowan’s balcony every day. That when I do, I can’t help but touch my lips and wish that it had been the first time we met. I could tell him how I wonder more and more about the hurt I’m still holding on to and question why I don’t just let it go. I could tell him that I’m starting to see things in him that I tried to ignore—his fierce loyalty, his protectiveness for the few people he cares about, the way he remains true to the hardest of promises. I could admit that I forgave him when he stood next to his car and promised to work for my forgiveness. Maybe even before that. I know that saying these things would erase the heartache and regret in his eyes.
