Nash (Marked Men #4)(72)

His hand fell away from my face but he didn’t move. His breath was ragged in my ear and I could feel his heart thundering rapidly against my own. I stroked a soothing hand down the spine of that dragon, felt Nash’s body shake a little at the touch.

“You undo me, Saint.”

“I’m sorry.”

He sighed and rolled over so that he could pull me on top of his chest.

“Just try and put me back together when you’re done with me, all right?”

I didn’t know what to say to that or if that was a promise I could make to him. I curled my hands under his arms and rubbed my cheek against his pectoral muscle. It was way too hard to make any kind of comfortable pillow, but I didn’t want to move.

“Can I stay the night with you, Nash?” I couldn’t give him all of the things he wanted from me, but that I could do.

He sighed and it ruffled the hair on the top of my head. “At some point I really want us in a place that isn’t even a question you think you need to ask.”

I didn’t know that a place like that existed for us, but it felt like if it did, it would be right here in this moment with the two of us still entwined and a part of one another.

The next morning Nash was running late, which might have had something to do with the fact that I woke up before him and couldn’t resist putting my mouth around that circle of stainless steel. I’m sure he enjoyed the wake-up call, but he ran out of the door muttering something about calling a girl Phil thought could help him out at the shop and having to swing by the new shop and check in with the contractor. He was juggling so many balls I had no idea how he kept it all straight or found the time to deal with me and all my issues on top of it.

He gave me a hard kiss, told me to make breakfast or whatever I wanted, and blew out the door like a tattooed tornado. He had spent many a morning in my place when I had to go to work, it was strange being on the opposite side of that. I was making coffee, wearing one of his T-shirts that was way too big and way too long, when there was a knock at the door. I was going to ignore it because I didn’t feel it was my place to answer the door at Nash’s apartment when I heard my name called through the wood.

“Saint? It’s Royal. Can I talk to you for a minute? I know you’re here because your Jetta is still outside.”

Ugh. I didn’t want to face her after last night. Didn’t want her to see how jealous I was that she had spent a normal evening with Nash, but I wandered over to open the door anyway.

I had to do a double take and felt my jaw drop when I caught sight of her. Her fabulous auburn hair was coiled up on her head, she had no makeup on, and she was dressed in the basic bluish-black police uniform all the street cops in Denver wore. She had a hat under her arm and a gun on a belt at her waist. I couldn’t believe this was the same girl who had on pink heels and skinny jeans last night.

“You’re a cop?”

She pushed past me and walked into the kitchen, where the coffee was done brewing. She made herself right at home going through Nash’s cabinets until she found a mug. I should have protested her forwardness but I was still in shock over the fact that she was armed.

“Yep.” She let the p pop and poured me a mug as well. “Listen, I want to try and explain something to you about your guy.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to deny he was my anything, but she scowled at me. “I’m cranky and armed. Don’t start with me, girlie. Last night I locked myself out of my place. My phone was in the car, so I was screwed. Nash helped me out, fed me, and talked to me about you. Do you know how many ass**le guys would’ve used that as an excuse to put a move on me? Or how many would’ve tried something shady because I had no way to communicate or anyplace to go?”

She had a very valid point, so I nodded at her in agreement.

“Most guys are ass**les. Seriously, Saint, Nash is not one of them. I know there is some history there between the two of you or whatever, but open your eyes, honey. That boy is sprung on you and he is a nice guy. A superhot, supersexy nice guy. Do you know how rare that is? He’s like a goddamn unicorn.”

I picked up my mug of coffee and continued to watch her like she was some kind of wild exhibit at the zoo.

“Besides, my mom was the other woman. I was the milkman’s kid … well, the stockbroker’s really, but that doesn’t matter. I would never do that to another person, insert myself in their relationship, because I saw how hard it was on my mom waiting for that ass**le to leave his wife. I can’t help it that I have an awesome rack and was blessed with fabulous hair. I’m not some femme fatale out to steal anyone’s man.”

It actually sounded like that was a sore spot with her, so I cleared my throat and tried to give her a semi-explanation.

“It doesn’t help that you’re beautiful and live right across the hall, but it could be any pretty girl, Royal. Men are easily distracted like that.”

She let loose a string of profanity that made me take a step back. She was sure a contradiction. A really pretty girl with a badge and a really dirty mouth.

“That’s insanity. No other girl is going to come along and distract him. He is absolutely focused on you. We are not interchangeable objects, LEGO pieces that click together just because the parts fit. If he is telling you he wants you, then no one else is going to do. If you can’t believe what he’s telling you because of whatever your ordeal in the past is, pay attention to what he’s showing you. Actions always speak louder than words.”