His Best Mistake (Shillings Agency 6)

With a grin, he pulled her into his arms, kissing her. She melted into him, and in this moment, with her hand resting over his speeding heart, he wasn’t so sure of his plan. The way she made him feel, the way she seemed to fill the emptiness inside him he’d felt since Tina died…that didn’t seem like something that would just go away.

But he’d be damned if he walked away from her now.

No, he had to see this through to the bitter end.

Chapter Eleven

This was what happiness felt like.

She’d almost forgotten.

But now, three nights later, as they lay in his bed together, and she watched his ceiling fan whir above them in a clockwise rotation, she remembered. And, God, it felt good.

Smiling, she turned her head and checked out her surroundings, since she’d been a little too busy a few moments before. His room was big. Much bigger than hers. And he had a king size bed. The walls were a light blue, and his dresser had framed pictures of him and his daughter scattered across it. She was cute, of course. She had his blond hair, a sweet face, and dimples when she smiled, plus one in her chin. She must’ve gotten the former from her mother.

As well as her blue eyes.

There was a photo of her on the wall. Mark was in it, too. They both wore their military uniforms, and Mark had his arm around her.

He was smiling, and his eyes were shining, and he looked so…

Happy. Say it, Daisy. He looked happy.

“I should probably go,” she said, tearing her eyes off the photo. It felt like his wife was watching her with judgement. “It’s getting late.”

He rolled over and caught her hand, raising it to kiss the back of it. She shivered, even though they’d just finished a round of intense sex. He lay on the bed, the sheet pulled up to his waist, and his chest was harder than a brick wall. She knew that first hand. And the way his waist tapered down to that sexy V that she could just barely see…

Perfection.

Damn him.

“I’m glad you came,” he said, watching her from under his lowered lids.

“In more ways than one,” she said drily, forcing a smile then glancing at the photos again. They were only a few days into their little arrangement, where she came by after his daughter was asleep and left before she woke up, and already she was imagining his dead wife hating her. “You looked happy with her.”

He looked toward his dresser, catching on quickly enough. He collapsed on the bed, rubbing his temples. “I was. We weren’t together long. And when we were, I was overseas, or she was. So we didn’t get much time together, but when we did…yeah, we were happy. We made each other laugh.”

Daisy didn’t slide off the bed. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah. Me, too.” They stared at one another silently for a minute, neither speaking, but neither moving to end the hand contact, either. After a few seconds, he asked, “If you could go anywhere, do anything, see anything, what would you do?”

She blinked at the abrupt change of topic. “Easy. I’d go see Hamilton in New York,” she answered quickly.

He frowned. “Is that a show? A restaurant? A person?”

“Seriously?” she exclaimed.

He laughed. “Yes. Seriously. What is it?”

“It’s a Broadway musical about Alexander Hamilton, and it’s sold out forever.”

“Forever?” He cocked a brow. “That’s a bit exaggerated, isn’t it?”

“Since you literally can’t buy tickets on their site…I say it’s legit.” She sighed. “For most of the shows you have to pay an outrageous amount to scalpers.”

Shaking his head, he exclaimed, “Jesus. All that to watch a bunch of people sing on stage about history?”

“You wouldn’t get it,” she mumbled, pushing her hair out of her eyes.