Finally.
“Hi,” he murmured when he got close.
She looked up at his eyes still haunted, but a touch of relief was there now, too. “Hi yourself,” she said, voice a bare whisper.
“You want to go home?” he asked, gently.
She wiped a tear from her cheek, then nodded.
He wrapped an arm around her and guided her to his car. She shivered in his arms but clung to him. And he didn't think it was just for his body heat.
After he got her into the car, he jumped in and fired up the engine. Neither of them spoke during the drive back to the apartment. But questions were on the tip of his tongue.
Ignoring his own desire for answers, he helped her to bed. The time wasn't right to talk to her about anything serious. She was exhausted. Shell-shocked.
After Sophia was safely tucked into his bed, he pulled out his cell phone and called Alan. Unsurprisingly, the man sounded alert when he answered. Nick's computer genius was a night owl.
“Fuck yeah,” Alan said after Nick told him the short version of what happened that night. “Although we don’t actually get the damn bounty now.”
“I’ll figure something out,” Nick said. The important thing was that Darrell was off the streets. He couldn’t hurt anyone else. Hell, he was thinking like a cop, not a bounty hunter, but damn him if he didn’t still feel good about it. But…at what cost? Would Sophia Scott ever be the same after tonight? After what she'd been through? Sure, she’d seen things before, but this time she’d come fucking close to being hurt—or worse— killed herself.
“Please, try to control your enthusiasm, man,” Alan said dryly.
“I'm just tired,” he lied.
“Bullshit. You almost sound like your upset we caught this guy. What's going on?” Alan pressed.
In addition to being his business partner, Alan was also his best friend. The man knew him too damn well.
“I fucked up,” Nick confessed. Again giving Alan the short version, he told him the gist of what happened between him and Sophia.
Alan was silent on the other end of the line for a long moment. Finally, he asked, “What are you gonna do about it?”
“About what?” Nick walked over to the fridge and pulled out a beer. With a quick twist, it was open, and he took a long drink.
“You sound like you care about her.”
“We are very different people. There's nothing I can do about it.” Nick took another long drink, almost finishing the beer. Wishing it was a can so he could smash it in his hand.
“So you're taking the chickenshit way out, then,” Alan said, matter of fact.
“The fuck you talking about?” If his best friend and business partner had been in front of him right that moment, he might've punched him in the nose. He was so goddamn frustrated. Sophia was twenty feet away, and yet untouchable. And he'd never wanted anything so much in his whole life.
“Figure it out. Don't wimp out because it isn't easy. If this girl cares half as much about you as you seem to about her, you guys will work it out. And if not, well fuck it, you tried, right?” Alan said.
Damn. Alan had a logic about him that had away of cutting straight to the truth the things.
“I'll think about it.”
“Just don't be a coward. You're better than that.”
Sophia awoke late in the morning, disappointed to find Nick gone from the bed. He'd slept with her, hadn't he? Her memories of the night after they'd gotten back to the apartment were vague, surreal, but she was sure he had come in at one point. Wrapped her in his arms. Made her feel safe.
The smell of bacon cooking touched her nose. Relief washed over her. Nick was there and making breakfast for them. Creating one more memory for her to treasure.
And then, she'd have to tell the man she loved goodbye.
The thought made it feel like claws were trying to dig their way through her chest. She loved Nick. In a way she'd never loved anyone before. More than that, she trusted him. Despite their rocky start, he had proven to her that he was a man of integrity. A man of his word.
But he was also a man with a life far removed from hers. With a family and friends and people who cared about him. Why would he want anything to do with her now that Darrell had been killed? And he'd get his bounty?
She reached for Nick's pillow and hugged it to her chest. Darrell's death should bother her, shouldn't it? At least a little bit. But it didn't.
Did that make her a terrible person?
She'd watched him terrorize people. Manipulate her. And finally, during the single worst night of her life, she'd watched him commit murder.
No. She didn't feel guilty. She was glad he was dead.
Reluctant to leave the warm bed and face the reality of the day, she got up and went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and splash cold water on her face. The mirror revealed what she'd feared—she was a pale wisp with dark circles and a haunted expression. Not exactly the sexy, tough chick she wished she could be for Nick.
Sure enough, Nick was once again battling with the bacon and eggs. He seemed to be doing a better job than the time before—at least the bacon he'd set on paper towels to degrease weren't nearly as crispy as the last batch.
He glanced over his shoulder at her when she entered the kitchen. “Good morning,” he said, giving her a big smile. “I don't know about you, but I thought we deserved all the bacon we could eat this morning.”
“Sounds fabulous,” she lied. Normally, it would. But right now, the idea of eating made her stomach jerk. How could she eat when she'd never see him again after today?
She couldn't show him how she felt. Couldn't allow herself to reveal that pain. Because he was a good man, and he didn't deserve to carry around the guilt of her broken heart.
She just hoped she was strong enough to hide it.
Nick finished cooking breakfast and set the plates at the breakfast bar for them. Surprisingly, after she got through the first bite, she was suddenly ravenous. They both ate while speaking very little, content to sit quietly in each other's company.
“You think I'm going to have to talk to the police again?” she asked after she'd finished her last bite of food.
“They might have some follow-up questions, but you will probably be able to answer them over the phone.”
“So there's no need for us to stay in town, then? I mean, for me to stay in town?” she asked carefully, trying to keep her voice even.
For a long moment, he just stared at her. The intense gaze that sought too much never moving away. She felt like she was lying to him by not telling him how she felt, and with his eyes on her… It made her want to squirm in her seat a little. Like a criminal hiding a crime.
“No. No reason to stay here,” he finally said.
“Then I guess I'll go back to school, see if I can salvage the semester,” she said, trying to keep her tone jovial and light.
He didn’t look away. “Is that all you want, Sopia?”
Had anyone ever asked her that before, in regard to anything more than her preference for dinner or what movie she wanted to see? She didn't think so. The temptation to tell him the truth—that the only thing she really wanted was him—was so strong she had to bite her lip to keep from saying it aloud. But she couldn't lie to him. Not when he was looking at her like that. So she didn't answer.
“Would you like to know what I want, Sophia?” His voice caressed her.
Still, she couldn't speak. So she nodded, instead. Her throat was full, she felt like if she said a single word she'd start to cry. And she’d cried enough for one week.
He took her hands in his and tugged her off the barstool, so they were standing together. He brushed a sheaf of hair from her face and pressed a kiss against her forehead. Were his hands shaking? Why would his hands be shaking? She didn't know of anything that could rattle the tough bounty hunter.
“I want you, Sophia,” he said, stealing her breath away. “I just want you.”
She was afraid to hope
. Terrified to believe. “What do you mean?” she finally choked out. “We live in different worlds. We —”
“Then I'll move to your world. You can move to mine. Or hell, we can find some brand-new world in the middle to live in together.” He squeezed her hands. “I don't care about the details. I don't care about anything but being with you. I love you, Sophia. I'm in love with you.”
Shock reverberated through her chest, clenching her heart and stealing the breath from her lungs. He loved her? How?
“In what world world someone like you fall in love with someone like me?” The words were too honest, too bleak. And they showed too much of her soul. She wouldn't have said them to anyone, anyone except Nick Ward.
“Because I see you. I see who you really are. You dazzle me. And if you accept me into your life—sweetheart, I'll be the lucky one. Not you.” The intense vulnerability in his eyes and in his voice, said that he spoke the truth. But she could hardly wrap her mind around it.
“Are you sure?” she finally managed.
A hint of a smile touched his lips. “Well, that all depends. How do you feel about me?”
She took a long, haggard breath. “I'm so in love with you I can barely see straight. Hardly imagine a life without you in it.”
“Fuck,” he said, the word ripped from him. And then he kissed her.
Sophia wanted to melt, but she was done being passive. Done letting life and cirucumstances and men lead the way. She held him tight and kissed him back, hard.
Epilogue
Sophia had never been so nervous in her life.
“Are you sure this is okay?” she asked the amused man on the bed. “Maybe I should go back to the beige one. Didn't that look a little bit more conservative? I don't want your mom to think I'm a harlot.”
Nick let out a roar of a laugh. “My mother's not going to believe that you're a harlot. Does anyone even say harlot anymore?”
“Stop that. Answer my question,” she said, pertly.
Gallantly, he complied and stopped laughing. And he got up from the bed and pulled her into his arms. He gave her a soft kiss, and for a moment the world disappeared.
“Maybe we should just stay in,” he murmured, voice husky. “You can meet my parents tomorrow.”
She slapped his shoulder. “I'm not staying in all night doing dirty things with you after your parents have come all this way to see us.”
He laughed again and pulled her close. Pressed a kiss against her forehead. “You look stunning. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
She blushed, but his reassurance helped. She turned to the mirror on top of the dresser they now shared and reached for the necklace Nick had given her to celebrate their one month anniversary.
The last two months had been amazing. Incredible. Indescribable. She hadn't met Nick’s parents yet, and there'd been two weeks of the last two months were he'd had to go out of town to pursue a bounty. But overall, it had been the happiest two months of her life.
Not only had she been able to continue in school—and was well on her way to a semester of good grades, but Nick could also actually come to stay with her often. He'd been wonderful, attentive. And he'd introduced her both to his sister and his business partner, Alan. Both had been a hoot in their own ways.
But tonight she was meeting the parents. D-Day.
Nick slid up behind her, his warm hard body against hers. He helped her put on the necklace, snapping the latch together easily.
“There's something that's been bothering me.” He slid his hands over her shoulders, meeting her gaze in the mirror. “Something I’ve been wanting to ask you, and I'd like to do so before you meet my parents.”
Sudden dread coursed through her. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “What happens if I give the wrong answer?”
A warm smile was his response in the mirror. “Oh, you'll have to meet my parents, either way, don't worry.”
That relaxed her a little, and she turned in his arms to face him.
“I know this is fast, but I've never felt anything more right in my whole life.”
She puzzled over that. What was he getting at? None of this sounded bad or time sensitive. He told her as much on other occasions, and she'd responded with the same sentiment.
Then he dropped down to one knee and pulled a ring out of his pocket.
Unshed tears in his eyes, he asked, “Will you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?”
Sophia blinked at him. Stunned.
“Don’t worry,” he said, looking unsure. “I figured you’d want a long engagement, a year or two or however long that you need. But I love you. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And I wanted to make sure you knew that. Without a doubt.”
In her life, she'd always been afraid—afraid of something. Her mother's binges. Her mother’s sober moments. The various stepfathers and uncles she'd bring home. Every boyfriend that she herself had dated. Not having enough food on the table. Never getting out of the small little world on the block she'd grown up on.
Yet looking down at this man who was asking her to make the biggest commitment she could, she was no longer afraid. Nick had never given her anything but freedom and love and safety.
“Yes,” she said, choking over the word. “Of course, I’ll marry you, Nick Ward. Just try and stop me.”
With a whoop, he jumped up to his feet and took her in his arms. Kissing her and whispering loving words in her ear.
And they were very late to dinner.
About the Author
Tiffany (aka Andie Devaux) writes sensual romance stories. When she’s not writing (or reading!), she can usually be found daydreaming, hiking, or attempting a new recipe. She thinks that life should require happily ever afters. And since she doesn’t make the rules of life, she instead applies this philosophy to the worlds she can control – the ones in her books.
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