Page 62 of Oathbreaker

I’ve never seen Atlas happier.

Or working this little.

It’s a good thing—for him to finally have balance.

We talk more as we finish our wine, and that, at least, is like it’s always been with West.

Easy and fun and enjoyable.

But then our glasses are empty and he’s helping me push back my chair, holding my coat for me to slip my arms into.

“I don’t know if I told you, baby, but you look beautiful tonight,” he murmurs as we walk to his car.

I glance up at him. “You did tell me.” I touch his cheek. “But thank you again.”

A wink. “Thank you for giving me that view.”

His eyes drag down my body and I can’t lie.

It responds back.

Heat blooming in my middle as I drift closer to him.

West is hot. West is a great kisser.

West has an incredible physique.

I shiver, thinking about all the incredible things we’ve done with his incredible physique…even though we haven’t quite gone there yet.

Not with the busy schedules and the four-year-old and my need to take things slow.

That shiver catches West’s notice, and he’s bundled me into the passenger seat of his car only a few moments later, the butt warmer on, the heater blasting as we head out of the restaurant parking lot.

All because he thought I was cold.

God, he’s such a good guy.

And I’m?—

“Baby?”

“Hmm?”

“Are we heading to your place or mine?” It’s a casual question, a careful one.

As though he’s bracing himself for my answer.

My stomach twists.

Because I want to say his place—want to prove to him that he’s the only man I’m thinking about, the only man I yearn for.

But the twist proves that’s not true.

Because…

The thought of going to West’s place while Colt is at home…

I can’t.