Reveal (Wicked Ways #2)(72)

When I go to pull my hand away, he reaches out and keeps it where it is with his hand over mine before turning his face toward it and kissing my palm. It’s such an unexpected action that it takes me a moment to process his public display of affection.

“It’s been a long week,” he murmurs into my hand before bringing it down to link his fingers with mine.

“Everything okay?”

I can see him mentally run through all the things that have gone wrong for him this week, although he doesn’t verbalize anything.

And sadly, by my own fault, I see him differently for the first time. How selfish have I been to always need him and not realize he just might need me too? That he has rough days and difficult clients to deal with? That maybe just as he brings me comfort, I bring him the same?

Why have I been so blind to this? So selfish? Always retreating into myself when trouble strikes instead of turning to him?

He just nods at my question and grants me a shy smile. “Everything is much better now.”

My heart swells in my chest, and a tentative, shy smile that matches his spreads on my lips. I haven’t seen him since the Brian incident—what felt like weeks ago when it’s been only days. Just seeing him does something to me—calms me, in a way that still surprises me.

“Going somewhere?”

“No,” he says without hesitation. “You?”

I lift my bag as if he has X-ray vision and can see my uniform in it. “I have to work later.”

“Where?”

“The club. Eight to closing.”

He nods solemnly, and I’m not sure how to read it as another bout of silence stretches between us.

“Is everything okay?” He asks the same question I did him, his eyes darkening, and it’s then I realize he’s afraid something has gone on with Lucy. With the Brian situation.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” I lie, wondering about the odd questions Priscilla asked me when she called today, wanting to leave the outside noise aside for now.

He gives a measured nod. “Did you need something?”

You. Always you.

“No. I was just . . . yes.”

“Yes?” he asks, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“Yes.” I look down at our linked fingers and then back up at him. “You.”

He squeezes my fingers, his smile widening and a swell of emotion flooding into his eyes. He could make a big deal about my admission, but he knows me well enough to understand how hard that was for me to say. What a big step that was for me to make.

How big a step that was for us.

“Have dinner with me, then? Not at a restaurant, just at my place. Something simple. Just us so we can talk, sit in silence, whatever it is you want . . . then I’ll drive you to work.”

I shake my head no. “I’d like that.”

His smile widens. “I’m not sure if that’s a yes or a no, but I’m taking it.”

The ride to his place is silent. Our fingers are tangled together on the seat between us, and other than that sole connection, we don’t touch or speak as his driver navigates the short distance to his place. He fires off a text here and there as I stare out the windows and ask myself how we always come back to this.

To him and me trying to reconnect after some kind of chaos rains down on us.

The doorman greets us when we arrive, and the take-out food I didn’t even realize Ryker was ordering via text is waiting for us when we reach his front door.

“There’s nothing much to eat in my place right now. I’ve been working a lot of late nights. This was just easier,” he explains, almost as if he’s nervous as he moves into the kitchen while I shut the door behind us.

I follow him through the unique mixture of modern and old-world style. The glass walls of windows framed by the dark woods and rich colors that make the room still feel cozy. He puts the food on the kitchen counter as he slips out of his jacket and begins to loosen his tie. I step up and for some reason want to do it for him.

Maybe just so I can share this with him—normalcy, something everyday when we always seem to steal bits and pieces on borrowed time that ends up being given back when the time expires.

His hands still as I take over. Slipping the tie off from around his neck. Unbuttoning the first and second buttons on his shirt. Removing the cuff links from his sleeves.

It’s only when I finish that I look up and hold his gaze.

“Thank you.” My voice is so soft, I almost can’t hear my own words.

“For?”

“Not punching him. For always standing up for me. For always trying to protect me.”

He nods very subtly, but his eyes fire in surprise at my words. “Mmm?”

“I’ve been walking on eggshells for so long, Ryker, fearful of every little thing that might hinder me in getting Lucy, that I stopped standing up for myself.”

“You can’t ever stop standing up for yourself, Vaughn.”

I nod, but tears fill my eyes, and he steps into me and pulls me against him. It’s the one spot lately where I feel like I can truly relax. Where I can close my eyes and feel like the outside world fades away, just like it did when I saw him today outside his office.

He presses a kiss to the crown of my head and just holds me like that for some time.



“Priscilla finally called me today.” It’s the first time I’ve mentioned it, the first moment I’ve thought to since we had dinner with small talk about our weeks leading the conversation.