Staking His Claim (Line of Duty #5)(45)

“I have to go.” She forced a smile onto her face. “I’m really glad you didn’t explode.”

He didn’t laugh as she expected. Instead, both of them were watching her with concern. She couldn’t get to the door fast enough. No way would she spoil their moment with her own problems. With a wave, she slipped out of the house and into the evening.

The subway ride back to Manhattan seemed to pass in the blink of an eye, the car rattling around her, dim lights flickering occasionally. Feeling restless, she considered going somewhere to eat, but found herself walking to the town house at a brisk pace instead. When she reached the address and saw Matt sitting on the top step, waiting for her, she didn’t feel an ounce of surprise. Instead, she felt instantly calm. The edginess she’d had since leaving Queens subsided, like white noise being cut off.

It was strange, really. In the back of her head, she’d known he would be there. She didn’t have time to question why, though, because the intensity in his eyes drew her up the stairs. He stood slowly and she walked right into his open arms. How could it feel so right? She wanted to voice the question, but managed to keep it burning in her chest.

“I need you,” Matt whispered into her hair.

“Yes,” she answered in kind, knowing she was damning herself and unable to muster the will to deny him anything. Not when she needed him, too. She let them inside, glancing up at Matt questioningly when he took her hand. Expecting him to lead her to the bedroom for a replay of what they’d done earlier, she was surprised when he stopped her at the couch. Saying nothing, he lay down on his side and pulled her down next to him, enfolding her in his arms so tightly she couldn’t move. Long minutes passed as she waited for him to kiss her neck or touch her body. His deep, even breaths, however, told her he’d fallen asleep.

Heart in her throat, Lucy tucked her head under his chin and let exhaustion overtake her.





Chapter Sixteen


Matt woke from the deepest sleep in his memory when Lucy rose from the couch. He could tell from the way she tiptoed her way to the kitchen that she thought he wouldn’t notice her absence. Or miss her in his arms so much he had to fight the urge to go after her, bring her back to the couch so he could hold her some more. No, he couldn’t do that just yet. If he touched her now, she’d end up beneath him with her legs wrapped around his neck. This time, they were going to talk first if it killed him. And thanks to the hard-on he’d woken up with, it just might.

From the darkness of the living room, he watched her through the doorway that led to the lit-up kitchen, as she rummaged through the cupboards for something to eat. Lips pursed, one foot rubbed against the calf muscle of her opposite leg. Her curls were tangled around her neck from sleep. Curls he knew from experience smelled like watermelon. More than anything at that moment, he wanted to lose his hands in her hair, tilt her head back so he could run his lips up her neck. Jesus, his thoughts were doing nothing to ease the tension in his pants. Neither did watching the smooth lines of her throat work as she drained a glass of milk.

When she set the glass down, he could finally see her face. Every licentious thought in his head evaporated at the desolation behind her green eyes. The same one he’d put into them back at the parking garage. Matt rose from the couch and went to join her in the kitchen. She watched him approach warily, giving him a sharp pain in his stomach. He needed a minute to get his head together, so he opened the refrigerator and reached for the first thing he saw. A bowl of grapes. Talking, having an honest conversation, had never been his thing. Listening to people and reading them through their tone was his comfort zone.

He needed to try now. When the explosion on the second floor had propelled him back against the marble wall, when he wasn’t sure he’d make it out of the building with the rest of the officers, he’d thought of her. When he’d gone the opposite direction from his team, heading to the bank to finish his assignment of bringing down the target and giving the hostages their freedom, he’d thought of her. Oddly, he’d thought of her playing the accordion. Her husky singing voice, the way her cheeks had been stained pink the entire time. How she’d lifted her chin and kept playing. He’d failed that girl. He’d had his opportunity to tell Brent that he wanted to be with Lucy, permanently, and he’d f*cked it up. He’d let his bullshit insecurities get in the way. He could never get that moment back.

If she’d let him, though, he would spend every ounce of energy making it up to her. If she still wanted him after she knew about all the ugliness he kept inside. If she still thought he was worth it. Worth her. So many ifs, not nearly enough certainties for someone like him who kept everything in its neat little compartment. Lucy couldn’t be compartmentalized. That scared the shit out of him even as he craved finally being set free from the grueling requirements he’d set for himself.

Take it slow. Don’t scare her. Matt glanced over, commanding himself to say something, anything, to banish the wariness from her face. “Gigawatts.”

Her mouth opened and closed. “Huh?”

You are a moronic ass. “I rented Back to the Future the other night. It was good.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Completely implausible, but good.”

She stared at him. “Why did you rent it?”

Matt almost shrugged off her soft question before remembering his resolve to be honest. No more ignoring things that made him uncomfortable. Not if he wanted a chance with her. “I wanted to be around something you like. I wanted to think of you.” Lucy looked dumbfounded. Too much too soon. Reel it back. “Changing the past. Fixing mistakes…I wish I could do that sometimes. You know?”