Razed (Barnes Brothers #2)(97)

The last, lingering rays of the sun gilded her skin gold. “I want this place. And I want you.”

His hand tightened on her thigh.

His heart tightened in his chest.

Blood crashed and roared in his ears as he stared at her and, for the longest time, he couldn’t think, couldn’t even breathe.

“Keelie . . .” he whispered. He didn’t even know where to go from there. What to say.

What was she saying?

He curved his hand over the side of her neck.

“I want a life.” She wrapped her hands around his neck. “I want to make a real one. And I want to try to make it with you.”

Her eyes searched his. “Is that okay?”

Shuddering, he lowered his brow to hers.

“Okay?” He gripped her waist, his hands spasming on the narrow curve. “Is it okay?”

Then he hauled her up against him. She wrapped her legs around him and he couldn’t help but notice how her miserable excuse of a skirt rose to the very tops of her thighs. “Okay?” he said again, his face against her neck. “I already told you I was your slave. Being a part of your life was the main reason I came here to begin with.”

She turned her face to his and he caught her lips, but she didn’t let him kiss her. Her fingers rested on his chin. “You came here because you wanted to set up a studio.”

“Keelie.” He cupped her head in his hands, stared down at her before he slowly, so slowly, lowered his mouth to hers. “I can do that just about anywhere. I came here because you are here. I love you, Keelie.”

She went tense.

“It’s okay if you’re not ready to tell me yet. You will be. And I’m going to be here. Waiting for you.”

He dipped to kiss her and her mouth opened on a sigh.

“Waiting. For you . . .” He said again, after they broke the kiss. “Always for you.”





Chapter Twenty




Courthouses were cold.

Keelie remembered that from her youth.

Stupidly enough, she hadn’t brought a jacket.

But after another shiver rocked her, something warm, and smelling of Zane, wrapped around her.

She looked up as he sat down next to her.

“You look like you want to puke,” he said, a faint smile twisting his lips.

“I feel like it.” She grimaced, glad she hadn’t let him talk her into eating anything at lunch. Experience had taught her better, though. She’d grown past it, mostly, but in the years after she’d left her mother’s house behind, she’d spent months emptying her stomach anytime she got upset. Just one of the many neuroses Katherine Vissing had left her with.

Katherine . . . and Price.

But she was getting better, growing past them.

And once this was over . . . ?

Zane took her hand. “It won’t be much longer.”

She shot him a look. “I know.”

Then she lifted his hand to her lips. “I still want you to tell your parents. I think if I get through this without throwing up, or crying, you should have to. Fair is fair, right?”

He shot her a dark look. “You play dirty.”

“They should know.” She touched his mouth. “You didn’t do anything wrong, either . . . except hide it from them.”

“I know that.” He sighed, looked away. Then he looked back at her. “You still play dirty.”

“I do what I have to.” Unable to stay still, she came off the bench and started to pace. It had been almost two months since she’d come here the first time, and she still didn’t want to be here.

Those past two months had been a blur.

Zane was almost ready to open his studio.

He’d helped her moved.

They spent more nights together than apart.

She slid a hand into the narrow little pocket of her tailored suit jacket and shot him a look. She had a gift in her pocket, something she’d wanted to give him for weeks.

Now, as he slid off the bench to meet her on the marbled floor, she pulled it out.

She looked down, nerves a tangle inside her.

Then she shoved it at him.

“Here.”

He took it, staring down at it for a long moment. He shifted his gaze to her, staring at her through his lashes.

“It’s a key,” she said helpfully.

“I know what it is.” He rubbed his thumb across it.

“I want you to have it.”

He cocked his head. “Okay.”

He wasn’t getting it. This was stupid. She was too nervous.

Spinning away, she started to pace all over again and then she spun back and glared at him. “You could make this easy. I’m standing here trying to figure out how to tell you I love you, that I want you to move in. You gave me pretty words and you made me feel like I matter and I can’t do that. Can’t you at least—”

The rest of the words were caught against his mouth.

“Oh . . .” She sighed when he finally pulled away.

Oh . . .

He ended the kiss softly, rubbing his mouth over hers before he lifted his head.

“I’m a guy,” he said, a sardonic smile on his face. “I don’t need pretty words. A key works for me. And you just told me you loved me. I can’t think of anything I need more than that.”