“I don’t belong here,” she squeaked.
She was so fucking wrong. She belonged exactly where she was—safe and in my arms.
“This isn’t permanent.”
She lifted her head off my chest and tilted it back to catch my gaze. “That’s the problem. I don’t belong anywhere. A woman I only met hours ago bought me underwear today, Heath.” Her voice hitched. “I don’t even have my own underwear,” she choked out. “What happens when this is over? I have no family. My parents are dead, and my aunts and uncles, who I haven’t spoken to in over a decade, could barely take care of themselves back then. I can’t imagine that anyone is going to be rushing to my aid when this is all said and done. I have nowhere to go. No money. No clothes. No way to take care of Tessa. No job. No experience. No nothing.”
“You’ve got me,” I replied without hesitation. And I fucking meant it.
I wouldn’t abandon her.
Even if I couldn’t stay.
“You’re a really sweet guy. But come on… Eventually, the DEA is going to stop paying you to take care of me.”
I cocked my head to the side. “You think I’m only here because it’s my job?”
“I don’t think it’s the only reason you’re here. But, Heath, two days ago, I still thought your name was Luke.”
“And…” I drawled.
She sighed. “And…it’s hard to believe that next time you go undercover and your name becomes Gino that you’ll still be my Luke.”
My Luke.
Wrong name, but I could live with it as long as it was preceded by “my” and it came from her mouth.
“Okay, let me stop you right there. One, I have blond hair and blue eyes. I’m willing to assume no one is going to buy me as a Gino. So we’re both safe there.” I smirked.
She half laughed, half cried.
“Two, I already told you this, but it seems it needs repeating.” I smoothed a hand up her back and stared down into her swollen and battered, but no less beautiful, blue eyes. “I don’t want to be your Luke. Not anymore. I’m Heath. I’ve always been Heath. I’ll always be Heath. But, regardless of what my name is, I’m not going anywhere.”
Not until you’re ready anyway. I ignored the stabbing pain in my chest.
Her lashes fluttered as her eyes closed just before she rested her forehead on my chest. “Why?”
Because I wouldn’t be able to breathe without knowing you’re safe.
Because I’m drawn to you in ways that would ruin us both.
Because it’s irrational, illogical, and so fucked up that I feel like I’m going insane, but I can’t stop feeling like you and Tessa are mine.
“We’re friends, Clare. That’s what friends do.”
She hugged me tight then mumbled something I couldn’t quite make out into my chest. I assumed it was some variation of thank-you. So I gently returned her squeeze.
Until she suddenly stepped out of my arms, embarrassment and horror covering her face. “Oh God, you are.”
I narrowed my eyes in confusion. “I am what?”
“Shit. I’m sorry.”
I inched toward her and impatiently repeated, “I am what?”
“Married,” she replied, lifting her gaze to mine. “Shit. Your wife probably wants to claw my eyes out. You should have introduced us when she dropped off your bag today. Maybe I could have talked to her and smoothed things out for you,” she rambled adorably.
Her disappointment was unmistakable, and that alone did some seriously good things in my chest. Really fucking good things.
I barked a laugh. “My wife doesn’t want to claw your eyes out.” I swayed my head from side to side in consideration. “I mean, she might, but seeing as to how she doesn’t exist, I don’t think she’s an immediate threat.”
One side of her mouth tipped up in a grin.
“I’m not married, Clare. The girl who dropped my bag off today was my little sister, Maggie. And I would have introduced you, if I hadn’t thought she’d embarrass the ever-loving shit out of me.” I flashed her a smile and winked. “I’ve got a reputation to uphold here.”
Her smile spread. “You have a sister?”
“Four,” I replied, my smile growing to match hers.
Her mouth fell open. “Four?”
I laughed at her surprise. “Yep. Jenna, Laurie, Melanie, and Maggie. I’m the oldest, and they have an ongoing competition to see who can fuck with me the most. Laurie currently holds the title after she ran into me out on a date last year. She was eight months pregnant at the time and came over to our table, fake-crying and asking me if I was at least going to show up for our son’s birth. My date took off, never to be seen again, and my sisters all got a big laugh. We’re tight. And I love ’em. But they are serious assholes sometimes.”