Sleight of Hand (Blackbridge Security 7) - Page 83

Gaige Ward is a different man when he exits the bathroom. He’s the confident, professional man I met when I came in to sign the contract with BBS, and I wonder how much it’s costing him to have that mask in place. I stand from the sofa, and he immediately pulls me back against his chest. I have to tilt my head back to look into his eyes, but he doesn’t kiss me.

“We have so much to talk about. There are so many things I need to tell you,” he says as he looks down at me.

Then he kisses me, both of his hands on my ass, the stirring of an erection against my stomach.

This may be part of his grieving process, and although it may hurt me in the long run, I know I’ll do whatever it takes to help the man heal.

Chapter 37

Gaige

I don’t know how fast things work in Heaven, but if anyone could get to God quickly, then I knew it would be Lala. She had to have had a hand in Leighton showing up, but then I walk out of my office with her and see Wren standing just outside of his office and realize it’s another eye in the sky that had a hand in getting her here.

I give him a quick nod of thanks, pressing my hand to Leighton’s back as we walk through the breakroom. I’m grateful to the guys for staying quiet as we walk through. My throat is killing me from crying for the last couple of hours, and I imagine I have several more hours I’m going to use my voice begging her to be mine, so I need to conserve energy where I can.

I’m so raw, everything so fresh, but just being near her helps ease the pain. I won’t waste the opportunity. I won’t squander the chance to tell her everything. I won’t let her walk away wondering or guessing. If she leaves St. Louis again, it will be fully informed. Plus, I need to know what she feels and where her head is at.

I’m a man of action, and I don’t know when I stopped being that person. I know a good deal when I see it, and Leighton Redmond is one hell of a deal, a lifetime sort of deal. I’d be a fool to let her slip away.

She keeps her eyes on me the entire drive back to my condo, and I do my best to pay attention to the road. I love this woman, but I also ache for her physically. The last thing we need is to get tangled up in the sexual side of things before I can tell her what my heart needs me to say.

The elevator ride is another exercise in restraint. I feel I deserve a medal because I manage to keep standing when I really want to lay her out on the floor and push myself into her until she vows to be mine for eternity.

“This is nice,” she says when we step inside.

I look around, seeing it for what it is. My apartment is bland, a combination of brick, steel, and white. Sterile is the word my mother used. Lala hated this place. She said it was cold and unwelcoming. Maybe it’s why I’m always in the breakroom at the office.

“It looks a lot like mine,” she says, and there’s a hint of sadness in her voice. “I had wondered if yours also looked like it was unlived in because you work as much as me. Oh. Maybe you’re making an effort.”

She points to the wrapped picture leaning against the far wall of the living room. My housekeeper must’ve brought it in and carried it there. I haven’t been here. I went straight to the office after Georgia. My suitcase is still in my office.

“That’s for you actually,” I tell her softly. “I had it delivered in Georgia, but you had already left.”

I’m taking a chance since she doesn’t seem to recognize it.

“Open it.”

She looks at me for a long moment before reaching for the corner of the paper and peeling it away. Both hands cover her mouth as she stares down at it.

“We look so in love,” she whispers behind her hands.

Another round of emotions threatens to clog my throat. “We do.”

“Who took this picture?”

“Tyler. I’m going to have it reprinted. Want to see the original?”

She nods, her eyes staying locked on the framed one leaning against the wall. I pull out my phone.

“I didn’t know the significance of it when I had it cropped.” I open the screenshot and turn the phone toward her. The image is the same but under it, the Instagram post read liked by @LalaWard.

“Oh, Gaige.” Her hand presses to her heart.

It feels like now or never, and the phone shakes a little in my fist before I can put it back in my pocket.

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