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“You’re getting better! That was funny.”

“It wasn’t a joke,” he grumbles.

“But I’m laughing…” I throw him a smile and his lips quirk a little, matching the gleam in his eyes.

“I guess you are,” he murmurs.

I turn my attention back to the road, happiness running through me like warm rays of sun. He knew I needed this. I didn’t see him make the call to the garage to ask them to bring Lenny to Seasons. But there he was, all fixed and sparkling, waiting in the street for me when we walked outside.

My fingers curl tighter around the steering wheel, savoring the feel of freedom at my fingertips.

“Where shall we go now?”

“Back.”

My shoulders fall. “I don’t want to go home yet.”

Denver looks out of the window as if he’s assessing something. “Until I’ve had an update on what went down with Neil, I’d feel better if we went home.”

“Why? He’s not going to be following us.

” Denver’s jaw tightens, and I sigh. “Fine. Back to my gilded cage.” He looks at me, and I roll my eyes.

“All the extra security you’ve installed is fine…

but…” I shrug. “It’s why I love being out in Lenny so much.

I don’t have any of that here. I can just be me. I can drive wherever I want.”

“You don’t want to go back to your place?”

“Not yet,” I confess.

“Okay. Follow my directions.”

I sit up straighter in my seat. “Where are we going?”

“Just do as you’re told, Princess.”

Thirty minutes later, I’m bouncing on my toes in excitement as Denver opens the door.

“It’s not that exciting,” he rumbles in amusement.

“Are you kidding me? I get to see inside the Brute’s lair. It’s very exciting.”

Monty follows me as I skip inside, my head on a swivel as I take it all in.

“Oh my god, it’s huge! I didn’t think you’d have something like this.”

Denver walks in behind me and closes the door, locking it.

“I don’t mean that in a bad way… Oh god, that sounded so rude, I just meant?—”

“That I’m not a billionaire, so I wouldn’t have a penthouse? Sinclair, it’s fine, I know what you meant.”

“I just meant, you’re hardly ever home, you’re always with my father… well, me now…so I figured you’d have something practical and… I just didn’t expect this.”

I take in the exposed brickwork and vaulted ceiling. “It’s incredible. A trendy artist’s loft kind of vibe. Are you going to bring your paintings out next and show me? If they’re really ugly, I swear I’ll not let it show on my face.”

“No paintings,” Denver says in amusement.

I continue to take in the space, my eyes ping-ponging over the sleek black kitchen and industrial-looking stools at the breakfast bar. Everything about the space is masculine and neat. There aren’t any keepsakes or much of a personal nature at all. It’s all so in control. Just like him.

“Oh! Who’s that?” I ask, my eyes catching on the one photograph in the living area.

I pick it up from the bookshelf and study it.

“You’re smiling!” I stare at the photo of Denver standing next to another guy who looks familiar.

They both have matching smiles on their faces.

Denver looks younger, but it’s still him.

Minus the seriousness and dark broodiness.

“Oh my god, you should do it more, you’re one hell of a kisser and one hell of a smiler. Your mouth has skills.”

I grin, but it falters when he looks at the photo, a brief flash of guilt crossing his face.

“Who is he?” I ask.

“Rick.”

Simple. Straightforward. One word.

Just like he can be when he doesn’t want to talk about something.

“Oh. He looks like a nice guy,” I say.

“The best.” Denver sighs.

He’s moved closer and his giant warm body is inches from mine. I place the frame down where I found it carefully, then turn to face him.

“So no paintings?” I feign disappointment as I run my fingers over his shirt buttons, toying with them, when it’s obvious he isn’t going to say any more about who Rick is.

“No paintings,” he rasps.

“Hmm.” I trail my fingers up his chest and loosen his tie. “What are you going to entertain and delight your guests with then?”

His darkened eyes flick to Monty, who’s already curled up on a beanbag dog bed on the floor.

I frown. “You don’t have a dog.”

Warm fingers hook underneath my chin and turn my face back to his. “No. But you have Monty.”

The delicious deep husk of his voice sets butterflies swarming in my stomach.

“You bought a bed for Monty? When?”

“Two and a half years ago,” he says, stroking my hair back from my face.

“That’s when I got him,” I say in confusion.

“I thought there was a possibility you’d come here with Sterling or Sullivan one day. I wanted you to feel comfortable knowing Monty was okay.”

My breath catches in my throat, mesmerized by the way his pupils blow wide as he gazes at me.

“You did that… for me?”

His eyes pinch at the corners. “I did it for me. I can’t stand seeing you sad, or unsure, or worried. I didn’t want you to feel that way if you were ever here.”

“Because worrying is your job, right?” I breathe.

“I told you, with you, it’s what I do. And it’s a privilege that I’ve been close enough to be able to worry about you.”

I flick my eyes to Monty on the dog bed and back again. Two and a half years. He’s had that dog bed for two and a half years in case of the small chance I might be here one day with Monty.

“But… come on… always?” My voice falters with disbelief. “I’m sure you never used to see it that way. You… you barely spoke to me.”

“I always spoke to you when you spoke to me first. But I was never going to push for conversations that you might not have wanted.”

“But I like talking. I talk a lot.”

His eyes hold mine. “I know.”

Shock zaps my gut like a lightning bolt. He’d see me chatting with my family, my friends, with colleagues, but he knew I didn’t want to talk to him, and he never pushed it.

He’s waited all this time while I was busy trying to ignore him.

I rest my palms on his chest, feeling the beat of his heart through them.

“I don’t think I’d have been ready for what talking with you would have done to me if we’d started any sooner than we did,” I confess.

I wasn’t ready for this. For him. I was too consumed with getting my career started, and then after the accident… too busy grieving.

And he respected that, never pushing for anything I wasn’t ready to give.

“I know.” His voice is full of tenderness as he cups my face in his huge palms. “And that’s okay.”

I swallow as I gaze at him. “How did I see you every day for years and not see you?”

“Don’t make me sound special, Sinclair, I’m just a man.”

“You’re not, though,” I breathe, something shifting in my chest and embedding itself inside my heart as I slide my hands up so I can stroke his jaw. “You’re not just anything… You’re Denver .”

We stare at one another, energy flowing around us in big, billowing waves. It’s like magic, just like Halliday is always talking about. It’s as though the universe was scheming and planning all this time, intent on bringing us to this exact moment.

“You’re Denver,” I repeat, rising on my toes to brush his lips with mine with an increased tenderness. “You’re exactly who I want to talk to. Every day. Always.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs, his voice lifting. He dusts his lips over mine, making me want nothing more than to lose myself in one of his earth-shattering kisses.

“Yeah.” I drag the tip of my tongue across his lower lip slowly.

“Sinclair, Princess, I want to take you to bed,” he rasps, his fingers tensing against my cheeks.

“And you seem mad about that, why?”

“I’m not mad, I’m…” He exhales heavily, the sound making me press closer to him to offer comfort.

“Because we’re back in the city?” I say, pressing a gentle kiss to his lower lip.

“Because doing something here will make it real?” I kiss him softly again.

“Because it’s not just something that happened in the forest anymore, something we can close off?

” Another kiss makes him suck in a sharp breath as I leave my lips touching his and whisper, “It’s not just a momentary lapse of?—”

His mouth crashes into mine, devouring me in a deep and searing kiss that goes on and on until I’m panting.

“It wasn’t a momentary lapse of anything,” he growls, kissing me again. “Don’t ever imply that. I told you I missed you. I’ve been going crazy since we got back not being alone with you. Not being able to find out how you really feel.”

“You thought I’d change my mind?” I gasp between desperate kisses.

“I didn’t know.”

“Denver.” I hold his face close as I kiss him back with everything I have, trying to convey a million thoughts and feelings about the way I feel about him without using words. I kiss him until we have to break apart for air.

“I know what I want,” I say as I yank his tie loose and pull it over his head. “I want you. That hasn’t changed. It won’t ever change.”

I push his jacket from his shoulders with urgency and kiss him again, rushing to undo his shirt.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t want you again once we got back to the city? That I wouldn’t want this?” I kiss him harder, pressing my whole body against him, practically climbing him like a tree as lust and need overtake me.

“I was going crazy,” he groans, hoisting me up into his arms so my legs wrap around his waist. He turns and slams me against the wall, devouring me from the inside out as his tongue dances against mine.

My dress is hoisted around my waist, and I tighten my thighs around his thick torso. His gun digs into the underneath of my thigh.

“Your weapon is pushing into me.” I smile into another heated kiss.

“Fuck yeah, it will be in a minute.”

I giggle, having to physically pull his mouth from mine so I can speak. My eyes meet his, and I giggle harder as I realize he just gave me another Denver joke.

“Not the monster.” I arch a brow, biting my lip.

He readjusts his grip on me, lifting my leg higher.

“Fuck, Princess. You. Naked. Beneath me. Now,” he groans like he’s about to lose control any second.