Epoch (Transcend Duet #2)(32)

I hate scaring her, but this revelation has gutted me. Daisy was murdered. When she told me, it felt like my father breaking the news to me all over again.

Daisy’s body.

Drowned.

Dead.

I didn’t save her then, but I’m sure as hell not going to let history repeat itself.

Stepping over the debris, I bring her into my body and hug her. Swayze Samuels is a clash of everyone in my world. It’s difficult to make sense of the feelings I have for her.

The boss in me thinks she’s the perfect person to look after Morgan.

The boy in me feels elated to have his friend back.

The father in me wants to protect her like my own child.

But the man in me wants things that I shouldn’t want—not from a twenty-two-year-old woman engaged to another man.

So I kiss her head like a friend or a father, even if I want to know what the skin just below her ear would feel like against my lips or what her tongue would taste like sliding against mine.

I release her, taking a cautious step backwards before my dick gets any harder. I chastise myself for letting those thoughts take form in my head. Even if Dr. Greyson would dismiss them as harmless, they don’t feel harmless when I can’t control an erection.

“Are we done renegotiating my contract?” She cocks her head to the side.

“You chatted with my dad?”

“Briefly.”

“He liked you.”

She frowns. “Daisy.”

I shove my hands into my pockets. “He thought you were good for me.”

With a slight headshake, she rolls her eyes. “He thought Daisy was good for you and that’s because she fed you when money was tight.”

I nod with ease, thinking about every sack of food she brought to my house, the two sandwiches she packed in her school lunches, the money she slipped in my wallet when I wasn’t looking. “I didn’t deserve you.”

She goes to speak but clamps her jaw closed like she’s giving up on correcting me. Daisy is not a separate person, she’s just in a different body with a different name, but part of her is right in front of me. I’ll take any part that I can get because I loved everything about her. I still do.

“I’ll walk you to your car.”

Swayze nods.

There’s so much more I want to know. Did Dr. Albright mention hypnosis? I’d give anything for her to remember us like I remember us.

“Thank you, my big bad bodyguard.”

I hold open the door to the black truck. “You’re welcome.”

She rubs her lips together, hugging herself as if to keep warm and as if she’s waiting for something more. I’m not going to kiss her, even if that’s all I want to do at the moment. There’s no fucking way I’m that guy. But … I’m not a total saint either.

“Do you have my picture in your pocket today?”

“Pfft …” Her nose scrunches. “You’re full of yourself, Professor Hunt.”

I lift a single eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, that’s so.” She turns to climb up into the truck.

I slide my left hand around her waist, pressing it flat to her stomach to pin her back to my chest. And fuck me if she doesn’t gasp in a way that I imagine she would if my cock were sliding into her for the first time.

Knock that shit off! My mind wars with itself and my body.

The fingers of my right hand dip into her front pocket. I slide out a photo—the photo of me. She doesn’t fight me. Not a word. I’m not sure she’s even breathing.

“Am I still full of myself?” I hold the photo up to her face. I’d love to see her expression. “No comment? Okay.” I slide the picture back into its spot. “I like riding in your front pocket.”

She takes in a quick breath and turns, eyes narrowed. “Yeah, well … I bet you still have that picture of me in your wallet.” Her chin tips up, shoulders back.

Happiness steals my smile. She brings me unfathomable joy. It’s the reason I named my daughter after her. And I love when she says me and I instead of Daisy or her.

“Always,” I say with complete sincerity.

Swayze deflates a fraction when I surrender total honesty. “The picture in your wallet makes sense.” She looks down at the fraction of space between us. “The picture in my pocket doesn’t make the same kind of sense.”

“Then why the fascination with it?”

She shrugs. “I love the expression on your face. Your hair. Your lips. Your eyebrows. The stubble along your jaw. But mostly …” Her gaze finds mine again. “It feels like a bridge to the gap between then and now. It feels like a big piece to this puzzle that’s in my head.”

And since I can’t stop myself, I slide my hands in her hair and kiss the top of her head one more time because I love how it feels. She rests her palms gently on my chest—I love how that feels too. Basically, I love all the feels—right or wrong—that I get from her.

If I were Griffin, I’d beat the ever living shit out of me for touching something that’s not mine. But the problem is … when I do touch her, my head goes blank, listening only to my heart whispering “mine.”

“Drive safely.”

“Goodnight.” She climbs up and gives me one last smile.