Tiny woofs, and she makes an "awww" sound and pats his head. He, of course, plays it for all it’s worth. He places his paw on her shoulder and looks into her eyes and— "Okay, that’s enough."
I step forward and glare at the mutt. "Down, boy, and I mean it."
He looks from me to her, then back at me, before he lowers his head and lies down on the floor. He continues to watch us with those big, melting eyes, and that gets the intended reaction from her.
"Why did you do that?" She turns toward me. "I was petting him."
"And you’re done now."
She scowls. "I’ll say when I’m done."
"Oh?"
She firms her lips. "And I thought you’d changed."
Clearly, not enough. I throw up my hands. "You walk into my place. Then, you ignore me. You walk past me without acknowledging my presence and then, you shower this—this—mutt with affection."
She blinks. "He’s cute."
"I’m cute."
"Ha!" She laughs. "You and cute." She shakes her head in disbelief.
"I can be cute." I can be anything you want, if you give me a chance, baby.”
"There are many adjectives I associate with you, but cute is not one of them."
"So, there are adjectives you associate with me, hmm?" I try to keep the gloating out of my voice, but I don’t think I succeed; her brows knit.
"They’re really not anything to be proud of."
"The fact that you spend time thinking of me at all is something I’m proud of."
Her gaze widens. She seems taken aback, then with a last pat on Tiny’s head, walks past me and toward the view of the city from the floor-to-ceiling windows. She pauses halfway. "There’s an armchair by the window," she murmurs.
"Indeed."
"And a bookshelf next to it."
"Mmm-hmm."
"With books."
"Don’t you want to see what they are?" I murmur.
She reaches it and runs her fingers across the spines. "These are fantasy novels."
"Romantasy," I correct her.
She whips her head around to stare at me. "Did you say—"
"Romantasy?" I walk over to stand next to her. "There are also fantasy romance novels, all spicy and with the tropes you love."
"Wait, hold on"—she gapes—"you know about tropes?"
"I might have done a bit of research to understand them, but yes, I do know about tropes. Also,"—I pick up a tablet and hand it to her—"take a look."
She shoots me a confused look.
"Go on. You’re going to love it, I promise."
She pulls up the screen, browses for a few moments, then gasps. "Oh my god, this has all my favorite apps where I can read Dramione fan fiction?" Her fingers fly across the screen. "And a lifetime subscription, too?"
"Also—" I hand her another device.
"A brand-new Kindle paper white?" She places the table aside and snatches the Kindle from me. She switches it on, then stills. "You filled it with my favorite smutty fantasy romance authors?"
"Those whose books are very similar in themes to Dramione. I also took the liberty of adding some enemies-to-lovers contemporary romance novels, which I’m told remind readers of Dramione."
She swallows, then blinks rapidly. "You didn’t have to do this."
"I did." I round the armchair then place my palms on it. "Have a seat, milady."
She half laughs. "You know what? I think I will."
She drops her bag to the floor, then slides in. I reach forward and touch a lever and the chair reclines back. Then, with a smooth mechanism, the lower half extends out so she’s able to stretch out her legs.
"Whoa, this is so comfortable."
"The best on the market. Also…" I press another button and one of the arms extends out. "Now you have a place for your devices and books to be close at hand."
Her eyes round. "I’ve never seen anything like this before."
"And you shouldn’t have. This was made for you."
"For me?"
"I called up the best designer in the world, gave her my expectations, and—"
"She delivered it so quickly."
"I asked for it to be."
"Oh." Her lips part. A myriad of expressions flit across her features. She opens her mouth to say something, but I shake my head.
"Not yet. Let me savor this feeling; it’s not one I’m used to."
"You mean doing something nice for someone?"
"Doing something for you.” I squat down next to her, so we are at eye level. “I’d do anything for you, Little Dove. I’m sorry for not telling you about Bobbie or her child. I feel responsible for what happened to my team. If I had been more vigilant, she wouldn’t have lost a husband, and her child, a father. Those men trusted me, and I let them down. My teammates put their faith in me, and I couldn’t save them. I’ll never be able to forgive myself for what happened."
She peers between my eyes. "So, are you going to go through the rest of your life beating yourself up for what happened?"
67
Penny
"If that’s what it takes to atone, yes."
"And what about us?"
"You’re important to me, more than anyone else has ever been. More than any of my team. But, I also have to live by the promise I made my friend."
"And I’ll be the first to admire you and encourage you to do that. It just hurts that you didn’t tell me earlier."
"I’ve been a fool. For the first time, I wasn’t able to recognize what my instincts were trying to tell me. I should have trusted you from the very beginning. I should have told you everything."
I place the Kindle on the side-extension, then reach over and cup his cheek. His eyelids flutter down, and tension seems to release from his shoulders. He turns his face and kisses the palm of my hand. A shiver runs down my spine while a melting sensation grips my chest and my stomach. My arms and legs weaken. It’s a sinking feeling that tells me I’m well and truly a goner.
"Sir," I whisper.
His lips curve. He wraps his thick fingers around the nape of my neck and places his forehead against mine. "I didn’t think I’d ever hear you say that again."
"Me neither," I confess.
He stills, his muscles turn rock hard, but he doesn’t react. He searches my features. "What changed your mind?"
I shake my head. "It wasn’t one thing." I slide my fingers down his throat to the part of his chest where I can feel his heart beating against his ribcage. "Or maybe, it was. I always knew this—the man you are at heart is a gentle, sensitive, perceptive soul who cares for others more than himself."
He scoffs, "You sure you’re not talking about Tiny—the first half, at least?"
I shake my head. "You tried to hide it, but I saw through it. You were cornered and made to fight for your life. You saw unspeakable things done to your teammates, your friends, the people you considered closer than brothers."