Page 28 of The Veteran

When he didn’t immediately reply, I looked up and found him watching me so intensely that I shivered. There was something in his dark gaze that unsettled me, but not in a bad way. For some reason, I liked having his full attention. I wanted more of it.

“Did you know I still own the house where it all happened?” I blurted out. My cheeks heated. I had no idea what had prompted me to say it, but the confession hung awkwardly in the air between us.

Kade’s eyebrows knitted together. “Do you mean the place where your father was shot?”

I pressed my lips together and pushed away my plate, suddenly no longer hungry. “Yes. They left it to me in the will, but it was tied up in red tape for years. I received a letter a little while ago to let me know I could finally do whatever I wanted with it, but I haven’t been back there yet. I can’t seem to bring myself to face it.”

“It must hold a lot of memories for you.”

“It does. Sometimes I think I hate it.” I’d worked so hard to clear away the emotional entanglements from that time in my life, but there were some things that even years of therapy and a positive mindset couldn’t erase. I wiped my hands on a napkin and forced myself to smile, relieved he didn’t push for more information. “Will you let me read your palm?”

He narrowed his eyes. I could tell he wanted to refuse—he’d made it clear he didn’t believe in anything even vaguely mystical—but he nodded. “Yeah, why not?” He wiped his own hands on a napkin and offered me the right one.

“Can I have the other too?” I prompted, and he reluctantly turned the left palm-up as well. I studied them both carefully. “You have earth hands, which means you’re practical and grounded.”

“I could have told you that,” he muttered, but quieted when I shot him a look.

I cupped his right hand in mine first, smoothing my fingers over the mounds and planes, tracing the creases. A flare of heat reminded me of how I’d admired his large hands earlier, and I squirmed.

“You have a long love line, and a clear head line,” I observed. “Indicators of good emotional health and intelligence.” Out of curiosity, I looked at his marriage line. One line, clear and unbroken. Something in my stomach swooped as I fought the urge to compare it to my own, which I already knew to be nearly identical. I released his hand. “Anyway, that’s that.”

“No predictions for the future?” he asked gruffly.

“Nope.” At least none that I wanted to risk saying aloud in case I jinxed them. “Come on, we’d better clean up.”

KADE

Hours later, I still couldn’t shake the memory of how Sage’s delicate fingertips had felt skimming over my palm. The entire experience had been strangely intimate. Neither of us had crossed any boundaries, and it had been innocent, but her light touch had stirred me in a way nothing had in a long time. I wanted more of it. I ached for her to run those gentle fingers over the rest of my body.

I groaned and pushed off the sofa to head outside and speak to Vic. Sage had showered and gone to bed a while ago, but I was too wired to sleep.

“Hey, Vic,” I said as I jogged down the porch stairs. He was leaning against the fence, deceptively relaxed, but I knew he could have any intruder on the ground within seconds. The guy was good. I only hired the best—even if I sometimes had a hard time trusting them. Most of my men were former military or ex-cops, but occasionally I’d take on someone from a different background. Vic was a retired professional MMA fighter. He’d earned enough during his previous career that he no longer needed to work, but he claimed to get bored without something to give him purpose, and he made an imposing bodyguard.

“Sir.” He nodded respectfully.

“Any movement?”

“Not a peep.” He took a cigarette from his pocket and lit up.

“Good.” I leaned against the fence upwind of him so his cigarette smoke wouldn’t blow into my face. I didn’t mind the smell of it, but I’d rather not breathe in too much. “Hope you got plenty of rest today.” Our usual night guard had had a family emergency, so Vic had been pulled off another case to cover for him.

“Enough.” He puffed on the cigarette. Like me, Vic wasn’t one for lots of words. He waved toward the house. “She’s cute. She single?”

A growl tore from my throat, and he looked at me in alarm.

“Sorry, man.” He held his hands out in a gesture of peace. “Didn’t realize it was like that.”

“Like what?” I snapped, irritated that he’d read something into my response. “She’s a client.”

“Not a proper one, though,” he pointed out. “This case is personal. She’s not paying for our services, is she?”

“No,” I admitted.

“Then what’s the big deal?”

I glared at him, but in the dark, he didn’t seem to notice. “She’s… we’re…” How could I explain the fact I liked Sage a whole hell of a lot but didn’t plan to act on it because of shit in my past? “It’s complicated.”

He smirked. “Isn’t it always?”