Say You're Mine (Shillings Agency 5)

“Go get her,” Holt said at the same time, grinning.

“I am. And, no, Lyd. This is something I’ve gotta do on my own, but thanks. Also, by the way, you two aren’t fooling me.” He pointed at the paper Holt had hastily hidden under his laptop. “Congratulations. Can’t wait to meet her—or him.”

Lydia’s jaw dropped.

Holt pushed his glasses into place and smiled.

Steven grinned and left them to their moment. It was time to chase after his. He waited impatiently for the elevator, scowling at the closed doors that kept him from his girl. The bakery was walking distance from his work, so he decided to go by foot. The whole way there, he went over the speech he had in his head. He

had it all planned out.

And it fucking rocked.

But she was gone. The lights were out, and he was alone on her sidewalk. She closed early. Again. She never did that. Never left work. It soothed her. Gave her a purpose. And he fucked that up for her. All of it. But he would fix it.

Some way, somehow, he would.

He stalked toward her apartment, each stride longer than the last. When he got to her doorstep, he lifted his hand and knocked. After a few minutes, it became apparent she wasn’t home. So he sat. And he waited. And waited.

And waited some more.

Her elderly neighbor came, and went, and came again, her arms full with grocery bags. She must’ve taken pity on him. “She went out with a friend for dinner. She might be home soon.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Seechler.”

She smiled gently, her soft gray hair in a bun. “You’re welcome, Steven. Would you like to come in and wait? I can make tea, and I just bought some fresh baked cookies.”

“That’s very kind of you,” he said gently, forcing a smile. “But I’ll wait here. I don’t want to risk missing her.”

Plus, he deserved to sit on the hard concrete stairs.

He’d known, deep down, when she lied to him about the break-in, that she had done it out of love. There was no doubt in his mind. But his knee-jerk reaction had been to leave. To punish her for hurting him, and in a way, it was an excuse to escape the overwhelming happiness she made him feel. The love she made him feel. Yeah, that’s right. He fucking loved her. And it scared the shit outta him.

Guys like him didn’t deserve happiness.

So it was only right he lose it, like the rest of his men had.

But his decision to deprive himself of his one chance at a happy ending wasn’t fair, and he’d made a mistake in leaving her standing alone, outside her bakery. It wasn’t a mistake he would make again.

He could be fucking happy, too.

And he’d spend the rest of his life showing her how.

“If you’re sure…” she said.

“I am. But let me help you carry those in.”

He set his flowers down and took the bags from her. By the time he left her apartment, he’d declined tea and cookies at least three times. Walking out into the dark night, he sat back down, stretched his legs out…

And waited some more.

By the time familiar footsteps rounded the corner, it was close to nine o’clock. He didn’t stand. Just sat there, waiting for her. With flowers.

Like the sorry fool he was.

When she came around the corner, she wasn’t alone. She had a friend with her, one he vaguely recognized as someone she hung out with from college. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember her name. But he was pretty sure it had something to do with a flower or a plant.

“That’s awful,” the girl whose name he couldn’t remember said. “And he just went home after that?”