Page 27

SINCLAIR

“M-motherfucker!” I yell, finally getting the word out. Finally regaining control over my body.

Denver’s already off me, but I slap him hard across the cheek.

He grabs my wrist, his eyes wild. “You didn’t use your safe word. Why didn’t you use it?”

“I didn’t need to! I had you. I was going to beat your ass,” I snarl, using my other hand to try and hit him again.

He grabs that one too, easily blocking my shot. “Enough. You don’t need to keep fighting. If you get them off you, then you run, okay? You get away.”

My breath is coming in sharp bursts as my heart pounds. I yank my hands free and shove at his chest, needing to do something with all the energy that’s racing through me.

“I had you!” I screech, giving him one final push before dropping my arms to my sides, my breath shuddering as I suck in giant mouthfuls of air. “I had you!”

“Breathe,” he instructs.

I stare into his eyes as I get my breath back, my entire body tingling like I’ve had a shot of adrenaline injected straight into my bloodstream.

Denver searches my eyes before averting his gaze. A muscle clenches in his cheek and I follow his line of sight to my breast.

My nipple is puckered and glistening, damp with his saliva.

I wrench my top up, covering myself.

“I would have gotten away. I got some good hits in. And I was about to go for your eyes like you taught me.” I swallow, composing myself as I notice red scratch marks on his neck. “Are you okay?”

Denver looks at me like he can’t work something out.

“You did. Some good hits. And I’m fine. But?—”

“I think that’s enough for today, though.” I avoid his eyes, getting quickly to my feet. “I’m going to take a shower,” I call as I race from the room without looking back.

I grind to a halt the moment I turn the corner into the hallway, sagging against the wall where he can’t see me. My hands drop to my knees, and I drag in a shuddery breath.

What the hell was that?

His mouth was on my ? —?

A low curse vibrates from inside the gym. A deep thud accompanies it, and I know he’s punched something.

A succession of muttered fucks drift out. They’re laced with regret, and I squeeze my eyes shut. But I asked him to do it. I wanted him to do it.

I just never considered the possibility that alongside the urge to gouge his eyes out, there’d be this other fire. One that was blazing between my thighs. One that made me want to feel his mouth on me everywhere. One that was hotter than anything I’ve ever experienced.

But it’s Denver. This is his job. I’m his job.

Everything about us being here together is all because he’s paid to protect me.

Once we find out who trashed Lenny and why Neil is in New York, things will go back to normal.

Denver will be back being my father’s right-hand man and I’ll barely see him.

I doubt we’ll even speak. He’ll have no reason to talk to me again, just like he didn’t before this all started.

I don’t know if it’s relief or disappointment that makes my stomach twist at the thought.

I take a deep breath and head to my room, needing space. There’s not even any Wi-Fi here. I can’t use my phone to call Zoey and get her take on what just happened. I have no one to talk to here. Monty listens, but he can’t give me advice.

There’s no other human being for miles.

Except the man I swore would be the worst person to be stuck with. The man whose touch just sent my brain into freefall.

Denver.

“Morning,” I say breezily as Denver walks into the kitchen.

He frowns, looking surprised to see me.

“What? I like to get up early sometimes.”

It’s six-thirty and I slept a grand total of one hour.

The rest of the night, I lay awake replaying our training session in my head.

Monty stayed awake with me, knowing I was unsettled.

He always knows when something’s wrong. He’s back asleep on his favorite rug in front of the fireplace now, making up for lost sleep.

I lift a fresh mug of coffee from the side and hand it to Denver.

“Thanks.” He takes it, his eyes dropping over my workout gear before his frown deepens.

He’s not in his shorts and vest like he usually is first thing in the morning.

Instead, he’s wearing khaki cargo pants and a black T-shirt, his hair still damp from his shower.

He smells fresh, with hints of herbs and mint, the way he did when he showered at my apartment after sleeping in my hallway.

Disappointment pulls at my stomach. He’s obviously in no rush to train together again.

Regardless of yesterday, I still want his help.

I didn’t know how much better fighting physically with him would make me feel about returning to the city.

But it does. Monty needs me to be able to fend off anyone who might try to take him again.

Denver won’t be with me forever. Even when this is all done, there’s always going to be a risk that I might need to defend us by myself.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” I ask, lifting my mug and blowing steam off the top of it, trying the cheery approach to break through Denver’s sour mood.

His brows pinch as he looks at me. “I told Buck I’d drop him off some firewood this afternoon.”

“Oh, great. I said I’d take some of Monty’s clothes for his cat.”

Denver stays silent.

“What about this morning, then?”

I sip my coffee, waiting.

He clears his throat. “We could go for a hike.”

I manage to swallow my coffee and not spit it out. A hike sounds like hell. But maybe it’ll loosen him up.

“We’ll stick to a route I know. Monty will like it,” he adds, studying me.

I fake a bright smile. “Okay. Sounds fun,” I lie. “I love hiking.”

An hour later and we’ve been marching at Denver’s pace for so long that my legs are heavy and sluggish. Monty does seem to like it and has been staying at the front of our pack since we set off.

“You okay?” Denver asks over his shoulder.

“Fine,” I reply, avoiding a patch of thick mud.

“We’ll reach a clearing soon. We can take a break,” he says, striding on in his giant boots.

“Sure.”

I keep following him, taking his hand each time he reaches back to help me over an exposed tree root or some rocky ground. He takes it away just as quickly, turning back to face ahead like he can’t look at me.

It’s ridiculous. One of us needs to clear the air. He’s obviously got himself worked up about how far he went. But I don’t blame him. It’s what I wanted. He was doing what I asked. And I made progress as a result.

But the feeling of his mouth on me was… unexpected.

I need to say something. Squash it before it becomes a thing.

I’ve gotten used to it being less awkward between us.

I like talking in the car. I like that he isn’t always as serious as I first thought he was.

I mean, he mostly still is. But I’ve seen how gentle he is too. With Monty. With me.

“Denver? We need to talk about?—”

Something rustles in nearby undergrowth. I whip my head in its direction, losing my footing. I reach out to steady myself, but the only thing in grabbing distance is the branch of a bush. The thorns slice across my palm before I can do anything about it.

“Ouch!”

“Sinclair!” Denver grabs me before I fall.

He steadies me in his arms, and I turn my palm up. There’s a red line across the center with small droplets of blood oozing from it.

“Damn it.” Denver’s deep, worried voice fills the air as he takes my hand inside his and studies it.

“It’s nothing. Just a scratch.”

He grumbles, frowning at the blood as it drips from my palm and onto the forest floor.

“We’ll just patch it up when we get back,” I say.

He lets me go and steps back, pulling the checkered shirt off that he’s put on over his T-shirt. He spreads it on a dry patch of earth.

“Sit,” he instructs gruffly.

He helps lower me down and Monty comes and sits beside me.

“I’m fine,” I argue.

But Denver’s already pulling the bag off his back and crouching beside me.

I sigh and let him get on with pulling out a medical kit to tend to my hand, a look of deep concentration on his face.

The trees stretch up high above us and small patches of sunlight filter through. Now we’ve stopped walking, I can appreciate the forest’s beauty. It’s calm here. Quiet. You could almost believe your worries didn’t exist. That real life was another world away. That your heart was still intact.

“Have you ever lost someone you loved?” I ask.

Denver glances up at me from beneath dark brows, then fixes his attention back on my hand, cleaning it with a wipe.

“Yes.”

One word. Nothing more. So simple. Straight to the point.

“Oh,” I murmur, not sure what I was expecting. Him to avoid the question, maybe. It’s not like I’ve ever known him to share things. At least, not with me. “It wasn’t Georgia, was it?” I fail to disguise the disapproval in my tone.

He shakes his head, the tense line of his mouth softening a little. “No, not her.”

I exhale in relief. He keeps his attention on my hand, his touch gentle.

“When?” I ask.

He pauses. “Almost seven years ago.”

“Before you came to work for my dad?”

He wraps a light gauze around my palm and secures it. “Yes.”

“Does it get easier?” I whisper.

His eyes meet mine, and I study the gold flecks in them as he looks at me. Finally, his shoulders drop with a long sigh, and he shakes his head.

“No.”

“Oh.” I fiddle with the bright white gauze as Denver packs the medical kit away.

“But you find a way to carry on without them. You get stronger,” he says.

He wraps his hands around my elbows and helps me to my feet.

I study him as I stand. There’s heartache in his eyes that I’ve never seen. Maybe because he’s never spoken about it before, I missed it. Or maybe he hid it so well because he didn’t want me to see.

“Was it Dixie’s?—?”

A flash of pain lances across his face.

“I’m sorry,” I say in a rush. I can’t imagine what it would be like to be away from your child so much because your relationship with their other parent broke down.

The few times I’ve seen him on his phone is the only time I’ve seen Denver almost smile. And now I get it. It’s when he’s been speaking to Dixie, or her mom has sent a photo to him.

“Have you ever considered the two of you… I don’t know? Could you?—?”

“No.”

It’s one harsh word, fired at me. And the matching anger in Denver’s eyes as he says it has me clamping my lips together.

“It is what it is,” he says more softly, reaching down to grab his shirt. It’s got my blood on it.

“I’m sorry, I’ll get you a new one,” I say.

Denver stuffs it into his bag and tosses it over his shoulder.

“Don’t. It’s old.” He glances at me. “You okay to walk back?”

“What choice do I have? A piggy-back?” I give him a small smile, the knot in my stomach easing as the tension in his shoulders softens.

“You know I’d carry you,” he says, his face serious.

We look at one another for a few beats before I shrug.

“I can manage. It’s only my hand.” I start walking ahead of him, then look back over my shoulder. “I think hikes might grow on me.”

“You said you loved hiking.”

“I lied.”

“I know.”

Something about the way he holds my eyes has my core heating.

“But they could actually grow on me after today.”

“Really?” He arches a brow.

“No.”

He breathes out with what sounds like an almost chuckle. “Come on, Princess. Let’s get you back to civilization.”

“The city?” I beam.

“The cabin,” he counters.

I twist my lips into a smile. “You said civilization?”

Denver wraps his hand around my lower back and steers me back along the trail the way we came.

“I have half of Buck’s store in the kitchen after yesterday. What more do you want?”

“Wi-Fi, a SIM card.” I tick off on my fingers. “Fifth Avenue. A spa. The Smoothie truck. My own bed. Zoey. Lenny… Freedom.” I grin at him. “You know, spoiled princess essentials.”

“Not much then?”

“Not much.” I shrug.

I smile as Monty pushes past us both so he can be in front.

“He’s getting as bossy as you.”

Denver rolls his lips. “It’s if he gets as difficult as you we need to worry.”

I grin. “You made a joke.”

“Did I?”

“You did.”

“You’re not laughing, so can’t have been.”

I shove at his chest and force a giggle. “How’s that, Brute?”

He nods, his lips twitching. “Then I guess I made a joke.”

I fall into step in front of him with a smile. Bringing up yesterday now would pop this bubble. I like this side of him. The side that talks to me. Opens up to me. Jokes with me, in his own way.

It makes a change from the usual terse frown he wears.

Talking about how his mouth felt on me can wait.