Carter Reed 2

“Would you rather I lie? I can do that.” I didn’t bat an eye.

“No, no.” She shook her head, folding her arms over her chest and hugging herself. “I…What are you going to do?”

“Never leave her side.”

She searched my eyes, but that was the truth. Emma was hurt. It was my fault.

“Thank you for being here with her,” I said.

She grimaced, looking pained. “Has she said anything to you about me? About my relationship?”

Ah. So Emma knew. I shook my head. “No, but I wasn’t aware that she knew.”

Her eyes got big. “You know?”

“Brian Camden is a good cop. Yes, Amanda. I have taken extraordinary measures to protect Emma, and that includes watching you and whose bed you share.”

She sucked in her breath, pressing a hand to the side of her face. “My god. Hearing you say it like that—I love him.”

“I know.”

She wiped her hand over her eyes. “I was going to break up with him tonight, but Emma stopped me. That’s why she was in the alley with me. She ran out there to stop me. I couldn’t go through with it. I love him too much. Do I…” She turned away, but I heard her anguish. “Are you…”

“Am I going to kill him? Is that what you’re trying to ask?”

She nodded, jerking her head up and down. She couldn’t say the words.

The irony that a woman who had comforted my soul mate was asking if I was going to rip hers apart wasn’t lost on me. And I told the truth, “No.”

Her shoulders had lifted, tensing, but they dropped at my answer.

I added, “But I will if he starts investigating me or Emma. I won’t hesitate.”

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t look at me, and I was sure she couldn’t respond to that. It wasn’t a threat. It was fact. I would have it done, if needed. Sometimes I was a cold bastard, but I wasn’t heartless, not unless I needed to be, and with that, I gentled my tone. “Thank you again, Amanda.”

She looked at me now. I had no bags, and I still had my coat on. She glanced back to the main entrance and saw Thomas waiting. “You’re taking her with you, aren’t you? You’re leaving tonight.”

All the men were downstairs, waiting in their cars. “Right now.”

Thomas started forward, but I held a hand up. I would get her. I would carry her. That was my job. He nodded, stepping back, and I went back into the bedroom. I lifted her from the bed, bedcovers and all, and walked through the door as he held it open.

I’d sent word to have her bags packed and ready, and Thomas had messaged me, even before our plane touched the ground, that everything was cleared to go. They had only been waiting for my arrival.

Emma didn’t move. But once she was in my arms, I felt her body relax. She remained asleep during the car ride to my place, and when we arrived, I lifted her again and carried her into our room.

Before I went to bed with her, I checked my entire home—every window. Every door. Every inch of my house. And my men checked the land around it. Then I went to my office and opened the back closet. A wall slid away, revealing an entire closet of guns and ammunition.

I took out a 9mm and silencer, then pocketed two boxes of bullets and closed it all back up. Going to bed, I placed the gun onto the nightstand and turned to pull Emma into my side.

I held her for the rest of the night.

I knew he was there, even before I opened my eyes. It was his smell, the feel of his body beside me, the way his arm held me to him. I smiled, feeling a rush of excitement surge through me. He was home, and I turned, savoring what was next.

There he was. Nestled next to me, his eyes closed and his breathing even, he was asleep. His hair was a little messed, flattened from the pillow, but he was adorable. That wasn’t a word I would usually use to describe Carter. He was gorgeous. He was stunning. He was lethal. But not adorable, and that’s why I relished this moment. His walls were gone, and it was just him, the real him at his most vulnerable.

I let out a silent breath.

I loved him so much. I wanted to wake him, but I also didn’t at the same time. He looked like a little boy, all his guardedness gone. His eyelids were soft, the lines around them a little smudgy from sleep. I knew all that would go away when he woke. He’d become alert and ready to take on the world. He would become a predator.

But not yet. For now, he was just mine.

Then, after a moment, his eyes opened, and my heart skipped a beat. It was cheesy, but it was real. And I laughed because of it.

“Hey, you,” he murmured, lifting a hand to tuck some of my hair behind my ear. His hand lingered on my cheek, and his thumb brushed back and forth.

It was such a loving gesture. I felt warmth fill my body, all the way to my toes. This. I loved this about him, along with so much else.

“How are you feeling?”

I shook my head. “Nope. I’m not answering that because I haven’t moved. If I don’t move, I won’t feel any pain, right? Then I can just stay here and look at you, and everything’s okay.”

He laughed softly, then sighed as his hand fell away from my face. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” And I wasn’t going to cry. I’d done enough of that. “Where were you?”

He sighed again. “I had things to do, but I’m back. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

“Nope. We’re not talking about it. Not moving. Not talking about it. Just staying here in bed all day.” I sent him a blinding smile. I knew it was ridiculous. It wasn’t going to happen, but of all days to hide away from the world, this was the day. And he was finally back. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">