“I’ll have to thank him later.” For the first time he seemed awkward and uncomfortable in his own skin. It was so wrong, yet so sweet. She’d braced herself for the grabbing and kissing approach, but she had no natural defenses against this. Not with him, knowing what he was normally like. He seemed . . . vulnerable.
He leaned his back on the wall and jammed his hands in the pockets of his jeans.
“I quit.”
Quit what? Stealing cars? She doubted it. If he’d been stealing cars his whole life, what were the chances he’d go straight now, at his age? Maybe he’d stopped for a while, but it would be nothing to start up again. And if he did, would he tell her? Down the road, if he was struggling to make ends meet, would he fall back into it and lie to her again? How would she know?
She imagined it—“Hey, Detective Larson. Your husband’s been arrested. Better call him a lawyer.” No one would ever believe she didn’t know—hadn’t known the whole time.
Not sure what else to do, she poured them some lemonade. When she turned back, she realized he’d seen the package of zip ties and the knives he’d used on her still sitting on the edge of the kitchen table. Shit. Why had she left those there? Well . . . because she liked the reminder and because she couldn’t very well go back to using them to prepare food. Having hot sexual memories while cutting an apple would be way too weird.
Embarrassed arousal tried to start, but she squashed it down. It wasn’t the time for that.
“You quit,” she finally said. “Why?”
“It wasn’t the life I wanted for myself. It hadn’t been for a long time.”
“And your brother?”
“Gone. He and Addison moved away. Everything about my business is clean now. Legit.”
She handed him a glass of lemonade and took a sip of her own. “For how long?”
He gave a short laugh. “Forever. Even if you don’t want me. This change isn’t about you, you just sped up something that was already happening.”
“So what? I’m just supposed to turn a blind eye to what you used to do? Just pick up where we left off?” She snorted. “Are you trying to tell me you’re a changed man?”
He narrowed his eyes
and stalked closer. Her stomach dropped.
She had perched her ass on the edge of the table and he moved into her personal space, looming over her but not touching her.
“Nothing about me has changed except for what I do for a living.” He tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, and the familiarity of the gesture would have been sweet if he wasn’t looking at her hungrily. He moved closer still, and she sat back on the table to keep space between them. She didn’t trust herself not to kiss him, and his mouth was too damn close.
“What if you go back to it? What am I supposed to do then?”
“If I go back to it, you can throw my ass in jail.”
Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I don’t think I could ever do that.”
“You’ll never have to choose between me and your work. Not again.”
What else could they say? There was a lot to talk about, but she wasn’t about to pretend she didn’t want him back. He seemed sincere. She’d hoped a moment like this would happen. She’d dreamed of it. But after weeks went by, she’d given up.
“Why didn’t you call?” she asked, struggling to keep all of the conflicting emotions out of her voice. “I thought you were done with me.”
“I thought you were done with me,” he replied simply. “I should have said no when Fox called. After everything that had happened between you and I, there was no doubt I was done with that life, but I felt guilty saying no to him that one last time. I ruined everything. Maybe if I hadn’t gone you would have been able to forgive me more easily—if I hadn’t betrayed the night we’d just had together. If you hadn’t seen it with your own eyes.”
“It played out the way it needed to, I think.”
A hand cupped the back of her head, and he leaned down to kiss her.
She let him. She couldn’t imagine wanting him to stop.
Chapter 18
“You have two. I’m sure Ophelia won’t even notice if you give me one.”