Bones Don't Lie (Morgan Dane #3)(58)

Lance swallowed, the muscles of his neck working hard. He cleared his throat. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” She pressed her mouth to his, pouring her heart into this kiss. Despite her position, she didn’t intend the kiss to be sexual. She’d just wanted to command his attention, to make contact, to warm what was a soul-deep and bitter cold. She lifted her head, her hands sliding down to rest on his shoulders.

Had she gotten through to him?





Chapter Twenty-Eight

Lance’s breath trembled in his chest.

She broke him. Every word, every kiss, every caress, battered him down, until the barrier he’d spent decades building around his heart shattered into a thousand pieces like a block of ice dropped from a ten-story building.

She pressed her lips to his jaw, sliding them along his cheek, finding his mouth again.

And once his defenses were gone, there was no containing the flood of emotions that had been safely walled behind them.

Staring into her determined eyes, he was struck dumb by her sheer perfection. Her intelligence and strength and generosity.

The way she loved with full force and didn’t accept his bullshit excuses.

And the fact that she’d chosen him blew him away.

He tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “What did I do to deserve you?”

A small smile curved one side of her mouth. “You were you.”

He kissed her. She leaned back in his arms, her softness yielding to the hardness of his body. But he didn’t mistake her soft body or kind heart for weakness. She was the strongest woman—strongest person—he’d ever met.

Behind the determination in her blue eyes were purple smudges of exhaustion.

He scooped her into his arms and carried her to his bedroom. He lay her gently on the bed and stretched out alongside her. “Are you sure you want to deal with the chaos of my life?”

“I thought I’d made myself clear.”

“Crystal. Just making sure.” Despite the horror of the last few days, a smile pulled at his mouth. His hand skimmed the feminine curve of her hip.

He’d been waiting to tell her he loved her. His excuses included not wanting to overwhelm her or scare her off. Now he realized he’d been protecting his own heart in fear that she didn’t return his love, waiting for her to say it first. He’d rather face bullets than lose her.

But no more being an emotional coward for him. She deserved better.

He brought her hand to his lips. “I love you. Heart and soul. Body and spirit and any other stupid you-complete-me cliché you can think of.”

She took his hand and interlaced their fingers. “Then we’ll get through this together.”

“I don’t know how I ever thought I could do it alone.” He’d been an idiot.

She’d given him some of her strength. He felt like a starved man who’d accidentally stumbled into a buffet.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She brushed her fingertips along his temple.

“Not now.” He rolled to his back.

Morgan leaned on his chest, again forcing contact with him when his instinct was to pull away.

He was going to have to break that habit.

“Now I have something to tell you,” Morgan said. “When I got home tonight, there was a package waiting for me.”

The story she told him wiped away the numbness and replaced it with raging fire.

“I want to find Tyler Green and beat him senseless.” He stuffed a pillow behind his shoulders and looked her in the eyes.

“We can’t do that.” She lay her head on his chest and spread her fingers over his heart. “We’re not even positive that it’s him.”

But Lance disagreed. “Tyler is a scumbag. He’s already assaulted you. He deserves a good beating.”

“Now you sound like Sheriff King, going rogue and dispensing your own brand of justice.”

“That’s not a flattering comparison.”

“But it’s a fair one,” Morgan said. “Our legal system might not be perfect, but we need to work within its framework. You cannot punish a man if you have no real evidence he’s guilty.”

Lance snorted. She was right, but he didn’t like feeling helpless. He wanted to slay all the dragons for Morgan.

“Everyone is protected for now, and Stella is working on identifying my stalker. The best thing we can do tonight is put it out of our minds and try to get a few hours of sleep.”

But Lance stared at the ceiling, unable to think of anything else. He was certain of only one thing. He would not let her out of his sight until he’d dealt with Tyler.





Chapter Twenty-Nine

Sharp stepped into Jenny’s house. A dark-blue sedan pulled up to the curb. Stella and her partner, Detective Brody McNamara, climbed out and hurried up the walk. Sharp held the door open for them.

Brody crossed the threshold. “Heard you were shot tonight. You all right?”

“It was minor,” Sharp lied. His arm was killing him, the stitches on fire and pulling with every movement. But urgency kept him going. “Thanks for coming.”

He went through to the bedroom. Stella and Brody followed him.

“What can we do?” Stella asked.

Medical paraphernalia littered the carpet. His mind’s eye replayed the horror of the evening. The paramedics working on Jenny. Lance standing just behind them, his hands linked and pressed to the top of his head, his eyes lost.