“Honestly?”
“Yes. Honestly.”
I feel a bubble of energy spread through me as I look up into his handsome face.
The only thing I’ve wanted was him.
“I want what I’ve wanted since you asked for my phone number. I want you. I want you just like you are.”
His cheeks split into a big grin.
He sweeps me around into his arms. My hands go around his neck, and my gaze meets his.
“I don’t have all the answers,” he says, “but Wade told me I didn’t have to have them.”
“We can find them together.”
He presses a simple, sweet kiss to my lips.
“Can I take you to dinner?” he asks.
I grin. “Maybe.”
“Do I have to play that game where I name three things about you? Because I think I’ll be even better at it now.”
I laugh as his lips find mine again.
Thirty-Three
Blaire
“Will you stop it?” I swat Holt’s hands away from me. “Give me a freaking minute.”
“I don’t want to give you a minute.”
“Clearly.”
He pouts beside me. I know that because I can see him out of the corner of my eye. But I don’t dare look over and take in the whole image because I’ll never finish typing out my email.
“Why do you have to work so much?” he whines.
“Funny how the tables have turned.”
The setting sun paints the prettiest picture outside of my apartment. The sky is ablaze in purples and pinks and bright oranges. It’s my favorite time of day. I love it even more tonight with Holt.
I didn’t make it the whole two hours I had left at work. Luckily, Yancy is a rock star and happens to be a total romantic. When I told her what happened on my break, she insisted that I leave early. Since she refused to send back calls or copy files or find data, what was I supposed to do?
Holt’s head rests on my shoulder. “I love you.”
I can’t help but laugh. “How many times are you going to tell me that today?”
“I don’t know. As many as I want.”
“Okay.”
He looks up at me like a puppy that’s waiting for a treat.
“I love you too,” I say.
This earns me a grin.
Knock! Knock!
Holt’s head lifts up. “Who is here?”
“I don’t know.”
I hop off the sofa and make my way to the door. “Who is it?”
“It’s Sienna and Walker.”
I unlatch the door and pop it open. “Hey. How are you guys?”
Sienna makes a face. “You sound better today.”
I grin, letting the door swing wide open. I know the exact moment Sienna’s eyes rest on Holt because they flip immediately to mine.
“What is this?” she squeals.
Walker fills the doorway with his wide shoulders and linebacker body. “Who the fuck is that?”
I swat my brother’s chest. “Be nice.”
I step to the side so they can come in, keeping my eyes trained on Walker. The door shuts softly behind them.
Sienna nearly bounces with excitement as she takes in Holt’s arm wrapped around my waist. My brother, on the other hand, isn’t quite as excited. As a matter of fact, he looks pissed.
I gulp.
“Holt, this is my brother Walker, and of course, you know Sienna. Walker, this is Holt Mason,” I say.
Holt extends a hand. Walker lets it hang there for a long second before shaking it.
I roll my eyes.
“I heard that you struck a deal with Graham and Lincoln today,” Sienna says. “Congratulations!”
Holt half-laughs. “My family struck a deal with them, yes. I can’t take credit for it all. Sadly.”
They go into some of the details, but I tune them out. Not because I’m disinterested but because it’s hard to concentrate with Holt by my side … and Walker scowling at him in front of me.
Sienna laces her fingers through my brother’s and peers up at him. She has to see the look on his face because she pokes him with her finger.
“Are you okay over there?” she asks him.
He doesn’t look at her. He just keeps pinning Holt to the wall with his stare.
“Walker, stop,” I warn.
“So you’re the guy who Blaire was staying with in Savannah, right?” Walker asks, raising a brow at Holt.
Holt nods. “Yeah. She stayed with me for a few days.”
“And you made her cry.”
“Walker …” I say. It’s more of a plea than a demand because no one tells Walker Gibson what to do. “Please don’t.”
Holt’s fingers curl into my waist. “I’m a big enough man to admit that I wasn’t on my best behavior. I did say and do some things that I wish, in retrospect, I hadn’t done. But I never set out to make Blaire cry.”
“But you did,” Walker says.
“Enough,” I hiss. “I’m a big girl.”
He looks down at me. He reminds me so much of my father that it’s scary.
“I’m a little pissed at you too, come to think of it,” he tells me.
“Why?”
“Because he didn’t even know who I was when I walked in,” Walker says. “That means that you didn’t warn him about the hellfire he’ll be walking into if he fucks with you.”