“Thanks.”
“Anytime.” He glances at a clock on the wall. “Gonna head to bed. I’ll see you both in the morning.”
“Night.” I watch him walk off, then a moment later, I hear the alarm for the house beep. I head down the hall to the bedroom and open the door, just barely making out the outline of April in bed through the dark. Closing the door quietly, I walk across the room to another door, finding the bathroom. I go in, close it behind me, then flip on the light. After I change and clean up, I shut off the light, then make my way to the bed in the dark, climbing in behind her and pulling her against me.
“If my dad finds you in here, he’s going to kick your ass,” she says, sounding sleepy as she burrows into my side and wraps her arm around my waist.
“He’s the one who told me to come in here.” I kiss the top of her head, and she snorts.
“Figures my dad would break his own rule for you.”
“What rule is that?”
“That he would never allow a man to sleep in the same bed as one of his daughters under his roof unless they were married.”
“Hmm.” I smile, moving my hand up, then down her back.
“So are you going to tell me what you did while you were gone?”
“I had a talk with Cohen.”
“Just a talk?” she asks, her muscles bunch, and my hand stops.
“Just a talk.”
“Do you think he’s going to stop?”
“If he doesn’t, he and I are going to have a different kind of conversation,” I say, and she goes quiet for a long moment, then rests her leg over my hip.
“Let’s hope that isn’t necessary,” she whispers, and I kiss the top of her head.
“Go to sleep.” Curling deeper into me, her muscles relax and my eyes close.
“Maxim,” she calls, sounding half asleep.
“Yeah.” I give her hip a squeeze.
“Next time you leave me like you did tonight I’m kicking your ass.”
Smiling I don’t respond to her threat, but I do lie there awake for a long fucking time, soaking in the feel of her safely against me before I follow her off to sleep.
Chapter 17
April
STANDING IN MY kitchen, pressed chest-to-chest against Maxim, I look down at his phone and watch him end the call we were just on with Officer Moore, the older detective who showed up the night of the shooting. When both his arms are back around me, he gives me a squeeze, and I tip my head back to meet his gaze.
“How are you feeling about that?” he asks softly, referring to Officer Moore explaining that the woman who came to my house with the intent to shoot me was suffering from a mental break after not taking her medication for schizophrenia. And from what he said, it’s not the first time she’s tried to hurt someone or herself, so the doctors plan on admitting her into a facility after she is well enough to leave the hospital, which might be awhile.
“Relieved,” I answer honestly, then let out a deep breath. “If things had turned out differently and she had actually hurt you or me, I might not feel so empathetic, but honestly, I can do nothing but feel bad for her.” I move my hands to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under my palm. “I have no idea what it must feel like having an illness like that, but I do imagine it’s not easy thinking things are real when they’re not,” I say, and he lifts his hand to my cheek, his fingers smoothing my hair back and over my ear. “I hope she gets the help she needs.”
“Me too, baby.” He leans in, touching his lips to my forehead, then leans back.
“So what’s on your agenda for today?” I ask when I hear his laptop out on my deck—where he’d been working most of the morning—ding with a message.
“Work, until you get back here.”
I smile at the annoyance in his tone, annoyance that I know has everything to do with me being away from him all day.
“The open house is running until five, so I’ll call you when I’m on my way back home and see if you want me to stop to pick up dinner.”
“Is eating you for dinner an option?” he asks, ducking his head to nibble my neck, making me laugh.
“I feel like I’m more of a dessert than an entrée.” I rest my hands against his chest, as he starts to laugh.
“You are the sweetest thing I’ve ever eaten.” He kisses me then slides his hands around to my ass.
“Don’t worry about dinner; I’ll figure it out. You just come home when you’re done for the day,” he says and my heart flutters as I look into his eyes.