Hot in Handcuffs
Page 31
THE HEAT WAS a bitch.
Colby took another drink from his water bottle and shifted on the car.
His chest was aching like hell, and if she didn’t come outside soon…
It was past lunchtime.
He’d spent those hours loitering around the front steps, certain she’d head out to grab a bite from the deli across the street, but she didn’t.
So now he was just waiting for her shift to end.
He figured he could have gone to her house.
He knew where she lived, although she hadn’t ever given him that information and it wasn’t exactly public knowledge. And he would go there, if he had to. Just…not yet. Not until he actually had to pull that desperate, I-can’t-live-without-you stalker routine.
Something warm and sweet bloomed inside his mind.
The heart inside his bruised and battered chest started to race.
Lifting his head, he saw her.
Striding out the door, shoulders set, a look on her face that said, loud and clear, I’m pissed…lemme alone.
“Sorry, baby.”
She stilled. Almost like she heard him.
But he imagined she only sensed him. The way he sensed her. The way he’d sensed her all those years ago. Need, a heavy ache, throbbed inside his veins. Desire pulsed hot and bright. And love, so pure it hurt, beat inside his heart. He didn’t want to be without her. He’d done it before and it had made him miserable. He could be whatever, do whatever he had to…as long as she was with him.
Her head lifted, and across the hot, shimmering heat of the parking lot, their gazes locked.
Knowing he’d pissed her off, and good, he figured he might as well make it a challenge for her. After all, if he pissed her off, she was much less likely to storm back inside, at least not until she’d torn a strip from his hide. Right?
It took everything he had to paste a smug, smirking smile on his face, to tip his water bottle in her direction in a cocky salute.
But it worked.
She came storming in his direction, the light of battle in her eye.
* * *
HE WAS HERE—
Mica’s heart started to race.
He was here—
“It doesn’t mean anything,” she muttered, squaring her shoulders as she continued on her way toward him. She resisted the urge to fiddle with her hair. Resisted the urge to tug at her shirt. It clung to her skin already, but hell, it was summer in Texas. What did she expect?
She stopped barely two feet away, hands hanging at her sides.
“Yeah?”
A spark glinted in those endless blue eyes. A smile tugged at his lips. He looked tired, though. She couldn’t help but notice it. Was he still hurting? Shit, why wouldn’t he be? It had been only four days.
He opened his mouth and her gaze dropped to said mouth as her heart started to race. Stop it, Mica. He booted you out, remember?
“So did you wrap up the case?”
She lifted a brow at him. “You came down to ask that? You could have called.”
“I could have.” Then he reached out, quick as a wish, and hauled her against him. It was so sudden she barely had time to blink. As she crashed against his chest, he muttered, “Oomph.” Then he covered her mouth with his. “But then I couldn’t do this.”
Couldn’t do—
That was about as far as she got before her brain shut down and her body turned on, taking control from her. As his tongue slid along the crease of her lips, she opened for him. Five seconds passed—ten, twenty—
And then she shoved off his chest, stumbling away, panting.
“Ouch,” he muttered, wincing and pressing a hand to his chest.
She almost apologized, but then she bit it back. “What in the hell are you doing?”
“Was I doing it wrong?” he asked, lifting his brows.
Mica gaped at him. Doing it…What…Shaking her head, she skimmed her hands along her hair, straightening the disheveled ponytail. “What do you want, Colby?” she asked, turning away, staring out in the distance. Buildings, large and small, filled her vision, kept her gaze focused on something other than him.
“This.” He didn’t move. He spoke quietly, but with such intensity the word reverberated through her. “I want this.”
She glanced at him, the question forming despite her best intentions otherwise. But then it lodged in her throat as her gaze locked on what he held in his hand. It was a small, blue, velvet box. An open one, one that displayed a ring that reflected the rays of the sun in a dazzling rainbow.
“This was my grandmother’s,” he said quietly. “My dad’s mother. I was going to give it to you fifteen years ago…I even had it planned out. But you left.”
Shaken, Mica jerked her gaze to his. “Colby…”
He moved then, finally, shoving off the car and closing the scant distance between them. He snapped the box closed and lowered it as he used the other hand to press against her mouth. “I loved you then. I love you now. I loved you every fucking day in between…and I’ll love you until I breathe my last. I can live without you in my life, Mica. But I sure as hell don’t want to.”
Tears clogged her throat. “This…” She cleared her throat and shook her head. “But you pushed me away. It’s only been four fucking days and you pushed me away.”
“I was flat on my back in a hospital bed,” he said, quirking a smile at her. “And I didn’t want to say this when you had to be rushing off to finish up a case, when I was still floundering around trying to figure out what I needed to do with my life. I took a few days to make sure I knew the answer to that…and to make sure you didn’t have those loose ends.”
“You planned on coming back.” She stared at him. Desperate to believe that. He planned on coming back. “You planned on coming back for me.”
He cupped her chin in his hand and lowered his head. As he brushed his lips against hers, he whispered, “Pretty much from the second I saw you on the beach, I think some part of me was planning to come after you, Mica.”
Shaken, she slid her arms around his waist. “And everything else? You…I mean, you said you had to figure things out?”
“I’m going to freelance and shit. I’ve got a contact in Georgia who can probably point me in the right direction, and I doubt Jones would mind tossing some stuff my way if he had a use for me. I…” He sighed and shifted his gaze past her shoulder to stare off into nothingness. “I’ve been hiding from myself for too long and I can’t keep it up. I won’t try to…”
He trailed off and she reached up, touched his mouth. “I can’t keep hiding, either. I figured something out earlier—I’m not as weak as I always thought I was. Or maybe I’m just tired of being that way. But I’m done hiding.”
“Mica.” He threaded his fingers through her hair, tugging out the band that held it confined. “You were never weak. We all just adjust at our pace, that’s all.” He nuzzled her mouth again and then whispered, “What do you say…you think the two of us can do the rest of the adjusting…together? Will you marry me, Mica?”
Easing back, she stared into those endless blue eyes—those eyes, his face, he had haunted her. From the time she’d walked away. No more, she told herself. “Colby,” she whispered, leaning forward and pressing her mouth to his. “You bet your ass I’ll marry you.”
Table of Contents
Arresting Desire
On Fire
The Unwilling