Desire.
My fingers tangle in his hair, tugging him closer as the kiss intensifies. A rumbling, needy sound comes from his throat, one that urges me on.
Fire licks in my veins.
Suddenly, he pulls away, both of us breathing heavily as his forehead rests against mine. He brushes a thumb over my cheek, seeming to gather himself faster than I do.
“That was for your family,” he whispers in my ear. “They have their noses pressed to the windows, watching us.”
So that’s why he kissed me.
It stings. It shouldn’t. I’m a tough girl who’s had plenty of relationships that didn’t go anywhere, so this one shouldn’t be any different.
When I look into his face, he’s wearing a bored expression.
I swallow thickly, shoving away the desire still burning in my veins.
He tucks his hands in his slacks, hardness settling over his features as he glances at the flowers. “I’m going to take care of Kian.”
I stiffen. “What? No. Don’t do anything.”
He chews on that, his eyes dangerously mercurial as they flash. “Why not? Because you’re in love with him?”
“No. Because it’ll only cause more trouble. Graham—”
“He hasn’t let you go yet. And you thought someone was following you recently.”
“I’m overly paranoid since Vegas. It’s probably nothing.”
“You need to text me or call me if something happens.”
I shake my head. “Nothing is going to happen. Maybe he didn’t send these.”
His jaw tics, and he spears me with a look, one that says he isn’t backing down on this. “Your favorite flowers just magically appear at the bookstore. I don’t think so.”
“I don’t need a guard.”
He drags both hands through his hair. “I’m taking responsibility for you, Emmy. No one will hurt you.”
“You’re taking responsibility for me for a very short time. We’re pretend, remember? And it will end. We’ll end.”
His hands flex as he frowns, searching for something to say; then: “I think about him choking you, and I get very . . . angry. Those bruises were dark, and you must have been terrified. I saw the scratches on his hands, ones that you must have put there. God damn it. I regret not beating the shit out of him at the motel.” His nose flares. “What did you ever see in him?”
I look away, not sure how to explain me and Kian. Some of the best people I know have broken bits, and I’m usually drawn to them in some fashion, as a friend, as a lover. Perhaps it’s part of the reason I let things get too far with Kian. I sensed the danger in him, just boiling beneath the surface, and a side of me wanted to fix him. But some wounds run too deep. People have to pick up their pieces, slap them back on, and carry on, all by themselves. I’m not sure Kian can.
We’d been on a slippery slope for a while, and part of me knew we were over before I even went to Vegas. He and I had run our course. The phone tracking and the underwear only cemented my conviction; then he had to go and propose marriage to me to distract me, and when I didn’t agree, he lost his temper in a horrible way.
“Once he touched me, it was over. He knows about my parents. He knows I can’t go down that road with him. He’s been to my apartment, yes, when I first got back, but he hasn’t shown his face since.”
His eyes search mine, and he says gently, “I’m glad. And you’re strong, I can see that, a woman who’s capable of taking care of yourself, but I want to protect you. Let me.”
“Why?”
He gives me an exasperated look. “I don’t know. Because you’re going to be my wife.”
Not forever.
“Just don’t go looking for trouble, Graham. Violence isn’t worth it. Trust me, please. I’ve been there. I’ve seen it firsthand. It’s awful and ugly.”
He groans, understanding dawning on his face. “Of course. You’ve seen it up close. I get that, but I’ll never let him fucking touch you again, feel me? I have every right to protect you, and I will.”
I give him my cell number. He takes my phone and types in Brody’s, his, and some guy named Jasper’s numbers.
“One of us will be around if anything comes up with him,” he says. “Don’t hesitate to call.”
He tucks his hands in his pocket, changing directions. “We need to go public. I’m calling my publicist tonight, and they’ll arrange for an announcement on socials. We need a real date. I’m thinking Borelli’s on Wednesday. Are you free?”
I tell him yes, and he turns to go, then switches to face me, walking backward. “I hear you have a cat. Was he the one in the kitchen?”
I nod. “Magic. Or Stubs. Or Prince of Darkness. He answers to all three. Jane likes him because he’s a mouser. Andrew mostly ignores him. Londyn thinks he’s her new toy.”
“You’ll have to leave him behind when you move in with me.”
“Magic and I are a couple. He’s my man.”
“I’m your man,” he drawls.
I wave that aside. “When can I tell them about the store?”
“You’re the manager. Do it when you think it’s best.”
My heart flutters as the reality of it settles in. The store is staying. I’m staying. The best part is I’m totally in charge now. I can implement new ideas Terry wasn’t interested in. A thrill courses through me.
“I’ll make arrangements for the marriage and call you tomorrow,” he says, then turns back around and strides away.
I watch him walk away long after he’s disappeared, my mind swirling with who exactly Graham Harlan is. And what it’s going to be like to be married to him . . .
I glance back to the bookstore, and Jane still stands there, her arms crossed and a drawn expression on her face. Babs waves and points to my engagement ring, still on her finger. Andrew looks ecstatic and gives me a thumbs-up as he grins.
Right. I inhale a steady breath as I head back inside to finally close up.
Chapter 11
EMMY
I walk into the store the next day with my head down. I got here earlier and opened, but once the staff arrived and we seemed slow, I popped down to the secondhand store a block over to look at summer baby clothes for Londyn. I found a sturdy pair of sandals for when she starts walking and a pink ruffled-bottom bathing suit. I’m smiling when I hear Babs calling my name.
I come to a dead stop in the rotunda, my mouth gaping at the flowers. Bouquets are everywhere: on the steps leading up the stairs, in the sitting areas, on tables, on the checkout counter, on top of the bakery case, overflowing from every corner, and spilling out into the aisles. Roses, carnations, daisies, gardenias, and a whole host of other flowers I can’t even begin to know litter the space with vibrant colors. It’s like stepping into a garden in the middle of the store. The sweet scents mingle together and waft up around me in a fragrant haze.