Page 32 of No Mistakes (No Mercy #2)

MANDY

The cool air hits my skin as soon as he pulls away, and for a moment, I just stand there, bracing myself against the glass, catching my breath.

Ant doesn’t say a word, but I hear the quiet rustle of movement behind me, drawers opening, fabric shifting, water running. When I turn, he’s already dampened a towel from the en suite, his eyes soft, careful as he steps back to me.

“Sit,” he says, voice still rough but gentler now.

I lower myself onto the edge of the bed, legs shaky, heart still fluttering from everything we just did. He kneels in front of me, and for a moment, I wonder if it’s possible to fall even harder for someone who barely speaks.

The towel’s warm, and the way he moves, slow, focused, tender… has something twisting in my chest. He’s not just cleaning me up. He’s caring for me. Looking after me in the way no one ever really has.

I watch his face as he works. The crease between his brows. The set of his jaw. The soft way he exhales like he’s concentrating, like he’s afraid to hurt me.

“You don’t have to-” I start.

“I want to,” he cuts in quietly.

God, this man.

When he’s done, he presses a soft kiss to the inside of my knee before standing, tossing the towel aside. I shift back onto the bed, and he follows, pulling me into his lap without a word, like this-us-is where we’re meant to be.

I settle against him, legs folded across his thighs, my skin warm from his touch as our bodies touch. One of his hands curls around my hip, holding me close. The other rests low on my back, like he needs the contact just as much as I do.

I tilt my head and watch him for a second, tracing my finger lightly over his shoulder. “Can I ask you something?”

His eyes meet mine, hesitant, but he nods.

“What was she like?” I ask. “Your mom?”

The silence stretches between us. He doesn’t flinch, but I feel the shift in his breathing. The way his hands are still. The way his eyes drop from mine like the question is too heavy to hold.

I don’t push. I don’t fill the space with nervous chatter or soften it with humour. I just wait, letting him sit in the silence, giving him the room to choose if he wants to speak.

He finally swallows, jaw clenched. “She was kind,” he says, voice quiet. “Always tired. But she still smiled like she wasn’t.”

It’s not much. But it feels like everything.

I nod, brushing my thumb along his cheekbone. “Mine… wasn’t like that.”

His gaze flicks to mine, curious despite himself.

I exhale softly. “She tried, I think. But she was angry. Lonely. Took it out on me sometimes. Not always, but enough to… stay.” I pause, thinking about the nights my mom came home drunk, throwing plates, cups, anything she could get her hands on, against the wall.

“I think she loved me. Just didn’t know how to show it without hurting.

When I turned eighteen, she randomly left one night and never came back. ”

He doesn’t speak. He just shifts, pulling me closer, resting his forehead against mine like he’s saying I hear you without the words.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs after a while. “That she made you feel like that.”

My throat tightens as I hold back my tears. “I’m sorry yours had to carry so much.”

His hand slides up, fingers brushing the back of my neck, grounding me. He leans in, and I feel the warmth of his breath against my cheek as he rests his head.

“You’re nothing like her,” he says quietly. “You’re…good. Even when you’re a pain in the ass.”

I laugh softly, resting my head on top of his. “Takes one to know one.”

His chest rumbles with something that might be a laugh, and I can’t help but smile at the fact that he’s mine.

It may not be official, but I’ve claimed him, and I will do whatever it takes to protect that.

“Does this still count as morning sex even though it’s 9 a.m.? Because if yes. I think this might be my favourite way to start the day.” I ask, smiling as I feel his chest chuckle against me.

“I think it might be mine, too,” he whispers.

I feel him pull away, looking at something on the floor.

I follow his gaze, noticing my now-stained skirt.

“Well, I guess Eva and I won’t be wearing skirts today.

” I sigh, now wondering what I’m going to wear.

“You could wear it; it will show everyone that you’re off limits,” he says.

I turn to look at him, a smile on his face as he wiggles his eyebrows up and down.

I slap his chest lightly, pushing myself off his lap.

“Calm down, cowboy. We need to get this show on the road.”

I follow the smell of coffee, finding Eva, Gunnar, and Axel gathered in the kitchen, just like we did on the morning we left Providence.

Ant and I agreed that it would be best to go down separately to stop any rise of suspicion.

I hate the thought of keeping this secret, but for now it’s for the best; we can’t have anything risk the integrity of the buyer’s meeting.

“Is there a reason the kitchen is always the meeting place?” I ask, pouring myself a cup.

Flynn lifts a half-eaten bagel in the air. “Brain food,” he says, words muffled by a mouthful of carbs.

Axel raises his cup with a lazy smile. “Coffee.”

“Now that , I can agree with,” I say, moving to stand next to Eva, who’s leaning on the counter like she’s been there for hours.

She nudges her elbow into my arm, eyes scanning me head to toe.

“What happened to us wearing skirts?” she whispers, her gaze dropping to my less-than-flirty outfit, which consists of my black fitting jeans and a white crop top.

I feel my cheeks heat, and I tilt my head just enough for my hair to curtain my face, hoping it hides the pink blooming across my cheeks.

“Something… happened.”

Her brow arches, slow and knowing, and a smirk spreads across her face, like she’s just solved a mystery she wasn’t even supposed to be working on. “Happened… or happened ?”

I keep my eyes on my coffee, lips twitching. “Drink your caffeine, Eva.”

She hums under her breath, still smirking.

“You still need to tell me what happened the first time. But for now, I’ll wait.

” Her hum of amusement fades when Carter walks in, followed by Ant, laptop tucked under his arm.

My heart jumps at the sight of him, my body calling to his as he looks straight at me.

He smiles at me, and I can’t help but smile back.

“We’ve got Benny’s location for the day. He’s at the bakery just as we suspected.” Carter says.

Ant sets the laptop up on the island. A map flashing across the screen.

Eva straightens, leaning forward on her elbows to get a better view. “Which bakery? There’s like three on this street.”

“Bakery on Webster Avenue. ‘Evolved.’” Carter says, at the same time that Ant zooms in. “Guy called Benny still runs it. He’s been around for years, talks more than he should. If anyone’s got whispers on the new players moving in, it’s him.”

Flynn leans back against the worktop, crossing his arms as he glances around the room. “What’s the plan?”

Axel looks towards Eva and me like he’s had this plan in mind since we mentioned we were going to do it, whether they liked it or not.

“You two go in. Blend in as customers, scope the place, and see if Benny will talk. Gunnar will watch from the outside, keeping an eye out for anyone tailing or listening.”

“And if something goes wrong?” Flynn asks, his tone flat but heavy.

Gunnar grins. “Then I come inside and ruin someone’s day.”

Eva and I exchange a quick look. We’ve worked on enough jobs together to know we don’t need to talk through the details; we’ll adapt on the fly.

“Alright,” I say, grabbing the mug from the counter and finishing my coffee in one swallow. “Let’s go shopping for some overpriced pastries.”