Page 63 of Shattered Hearts
She opens her mouth once more, but I don’t give her a chance to speak.
“Stop. Don’t ever apologize for calling me when you’re in trouble. You did the right thing.”
“What?” Shock manifests on her features as she blinks at me with teary blue eyes.
Beneath the table, my hands curl into fists. If Thomas Brennan were standing in front of me right now, I don’t think I’d be able to stop myself from punching him in the face.
“As long as you’re my wife, even if you’re just filling in, I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
Those words itch my throat like a cough. Why do I say things like that? And what if I’m not able to keep that promise?
This time, when our eyes meet, the sensation is different. Heat crackles in the air between us. Riley’s eyelids lower to half-mast, her full lips parting as she stares at me. I wonder what’s on her mind when color brightens her cheeks.
All I can think about is Riley’s sex toy. I saw it by accident while supervising the pickup crew at her apartment. When they were removing debris and damaged furniture from her bedroom, I spotted the purple dildo among the discarded things strewn about the floor and kicked it into her linen closet before any of the guys caught me gawking, but…
Images of Riley using that toy on herself keep hardening my cock. I swallow so hard, I have to clear my throat.
She hits me with a shy smile. “I feel the same way.”
I choke. “What?” Surely she can’t read my thoughts.
“As long as we’re in this mess…well, I’ve got your back.”
A strange weightlessness balloons in my chest, like someone’s pumping my lungs with hot air.
For a while after that, we fall into easy silence. Once we clean our plates, the waiter brings us two slices of the key lime pie I’ve been fantasizing about since we walked in.
I love key lime pie. It was my mother’s favorite dessert. She was an avid baker, and everything she made was mouthwatering.
Riley pushes the plate with my slice toward me, and as she pulls her hand back, I catch a tiny whiff of her lavender scent from her wrist. I didn’t miss the lavender candles in her apartment either.
I taste the pie. Tart lime mingles with cream on my tongue. “Why, uh…”
Riley’s eyes pop to mine. The sight of that dessert spoon sliding between her lips shoots a bolt of lust through me, and I have to avert my gaze.
“Why what?” She licks her lips after tasting the tart dessert.
“Why do you like lavender?”
The face she’s making…I’ve seen it before in the interrogation unit. An expression that reads,do I want to tell you the truth or not?
She’s deliberating.
Riley presses a napkin to her lips, cautious and thoughtful, and then answers me in a way I never expected.
“Night terrors.” She sets the napkin down. “I had them when I was really small. They went away as I grew up, but after what happened with Troy and Red Hill three years ago, they came back…”
Night terrors.My chest twinges when I imagine the toddler version of Riley, shivering, her little face scrunched in fear.
“Lavender has calming properties by itself, but it works especially well for me because it’s also my…my mom’s favorite scent.” She pushes her long hair behind one ear. “She used to bethe one to wake me from my nightmares. Anyway, she always smelled like lavender. That’s all.”
I shouldn’t have asked. She won’t even meet my gaze now.
Way to go, jackass.
“Can I ask you something?”
Asking questions is dangerous. What we’re doing right now feels precariously close to…bonding.I need to shut this down, but my curiosity aboutheroverrules my rational thoughts.