Until I could reconcile those things, I had no right asking her forgiveness.
Breaking all our own rules, Cole pulled me onto his lap with a sigh of resignation, as though this moment had been a long time coming, and he had grown tired of fighting against its arrival. Though it was wrong of me to accept what he offered, I wrapped my arms around his thick torso and buried my face in the crease between his pectorals. He held me while stroking one wide palm up and down my back, allowing me to shatter in his arms, where he could gather the broken pieces and fit me back together again.
The only man I had ever allowed to hold me was my father, and there was no comparison between those rare experiences and this one. Cole pinned my arms down with his, the contact startling against my banding even with a layer of fabric between our skin. His palm smoothed over the ornate juncture where the rukav joined its two halves between my shoulder blades. The faintest rumble under my cheek had me pressing my ear flat against his chest to catch the vibrations.
Cole was… purring.
The intense physical contact ought to have spiraled me into a panic attack, made me itch to shake him off, turned oxygen solid in my lungs, but that rhythmic sound was drugging. His scent filled my nose, and his heat melted the ice crackling over my heart.
“I was with her when you called,” he said, though he owed me no explanation.
Relief to which I had no right punched out of me on a hard breath that blew across his shirt, and he shivered beneath my cheek as though he’d felt it skate over his skin. “You don’t owe me any explanations.”
“I know.”
But he had given me one because it mattered to me, because I needed closure, and because he was the kind of man who knew those things, who did those things, who deserved so much more than anything I had to offer. That didn’t stop me from wanting to give him all of me or from wanting to take all of him too.
I closed my eyes when the stubble on his chin caught in my hair, relishing the intimacy of the contact, wondering how the press of his jaw might feel against other places.
The next thing I remembered was waking in the SUV with my head on his shoulder. Legs tucked under me, I had curled across the console to wrap around his right arm. I had almost convinced myself I was dreaming until the SUV came to a stop, and he pressed a kiss to my temple. That brush of his lips, so much softer than I ever imagined them, incinerated the cobwebs, and my pulse set off at a gallop he must have heard.
“We’re here,” he murmured. “You need to head inside and get some rest.”
Knowing all that had happened tonight would be viewed through a harsher lens tomorrow made me reluctant to budge. Cole would regret softening toward me and begin the patch job on the crumbling spots in the wall surrounding his heart as soon as I said goodnight. But then I would bumble along, right on his heels, and discover each crack left jagged as though rooting out his weaknesses came second nature to me.
Perhaps it did. After all, Conquest had had centuries to perfect the art.
Quick as ripping off a Band-Aid, before either of us balked, I rose up and kissed the prickly underside of his jaw. “Thanks for sneaking me out.”
I shoved open the door, uncoiled my legs, and hit the sidewalk before he could shake off his surprise. Unwilling to glance back and catch his molars grinding, I tossed a wave over my shoulder and hustled into the house. The impromptu party was over, and all the lights were off. I heaved a sigh of relief when it hit me I had escaped an interrogation. Creeping into the sewing room, I shut the door on my heels.
Tomorrow would kick me in the teeth soon enough. Tonight I wanted to dream with a smile.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The good mood I had fallen asleep cradling lasted me through the morning. I’d noticed on my way to raid the orange juice that Aunt Nancy had filled one of those magnetic grocery lists with items, so I tore off the top sheet and decided I would contribute to the household by doing the shopping for her. Flavie called to update me on the status of my valerian-free yard while I was checking out, and the news that I could return home buoyed my already high spirits.
I was humming a song by Florida Georgia Line as I pushed my buggy across the parking lot, but my steps faltered halfway to the Bronco when I spied the tall drink of water reclined against the driver-side door. “Hi there.”
“Hi yourself.” Wu flung a tight ball of fabric square at my chest. “You look well-rested.”
I grabbed the bundle on reflex before it hit the asphalt, shook out the heather-gray material, and failed to cage my laugh before it escaped. The long-sleeve tee featured a vintage photo of an iconic city skyline. A banner reading “New York the Empire State” cut the image in half, and the tag hanging off the sleeve proclaimed Made in New York City.
“Aww.” As I smoothed the shirt against my chest, he noticed the leather bracelet that was fast becoming a wardrobe staple and scowled all the harder. “You brought me a souvenir. You didn’t have to, but thanks.”
“I flew to New York.” His clipped tone highlighted his accent. “I bought a ticket and walked the observation deck at the Empire State Building. I saw the entire city at a glance, but the one thing I didn’t see was you.”
“I’ve never been to New York. Too much of a homebody.” I rubbed my thumb over the grayscale image. “I hear it’s one hell of an experience. Did you enjoy your trip?”
“Do not play games with me.” A flush warmed his face as his temper rose. “I contacted Santiago Benitez to verify your whereabouts.”
Leave it to Santiago to take a joke ten steps too far. God only knows what other evidence he’d planted to make the trip appear authentic. For all I knew, he had forwarded Wu a fake itinerary complete with purchased tickets for tourist attractions I planned on visiting along with a number for a concierge bribed to demur when asked if a Luce Boudreau was a guest at his hotel.
“I’m going to strangle him.” I opened the tailgate and started loading my bags. “It was a joke. He just got carried away.” I tried for a winning smile. “I’m glad you’re here, though. You saved me a phone call.”
Immediately suspicious, he shoved off the vehicle with his shoulders. “What do you need?”
“Ouch.” I clutched my chest. “You act like I have to need something to want to talk to you.”
“I’ll ask again —” one of his perfect eyebrows arched “— what do you need?”
“What were you doing down in Madison?” I checked the cart to make sure I hadn’t left anything behind. “A little birdie told me you paid Jill Summers a visit.” I cast him a thoughtful glance. “The funny thing is, you asked about the Orvis case. Well, okay, so that’s not the punchline. After you made that long drive and nudged Summers into checking her records, which I had already requested, as I’m sure you know, she discovered – wait for it – that the bodies had never reached the coroner’s office.”
His black mood lifted a bit, and a smile twitched in his cheek. “Are you accusing me of something?”
I pulled on my cop face. “Where are the bodies?”
“I have no idea, officer,” he said, playing along. “I would tell you if I knew.”
“Wu, this is not the hill you want to die on.” I bumped his hip with my cart. “Trust me.”
He wiped imagined dirt from his slacks. “More hills have died under me than the reverse.”
I barked out a laugh. “Did you really just call yourself old as dirt?”
His lips pursed. “I am old.”
“Snappy comeback.” I returned the cart to a nearby corral. “How good are you at making things you don’t want humans to see disappear?”
“Very good.” He narrowed his eyes. “Why?”
I flashed him the other bit of information that had filtered to me overnight. “Do these photos look familiar to you?”