“Who do they belong to? Is there a card?”
I shuffle through the flowers, a cold feeling settling in my chest. “No, but Kian must have left them for me. He knows they were Gran’s favorite—and mine. Ugh.”
I hurl the bouquet to the ground, anger and fear mixing together, over Kian, over this fake marriage and lying to my family. Jane knows something is up, and I hate not telling her the truth.
Why did I steal that damn car?
“So much has happened, so fast . . .” My chest rises rapidly, and tears prick my eyelids. I’m supposed to avoid stress with my heart issues, but with everything going on, it feels impossible. “I’m sorry for being emotional, but . . .”
“Hey, Emmy . . .” Graham pulls me into his embrace, and I fall into him. It’s the sort of comfort I haven’t experienced in months. My worries slip away for a moment. Maybe because we’re in this predicament together.
Moments pass as my heart settles. I’m not sure how long we stay like that, but it feels as if I’ve been here before, my face tucked against his chest. His hand runs softly through my hair.
When we finally break apart, the warmth of his proximity lingers.
He gazes down at me, his eyes searching mine as his hand slides over the collar of my dress to the back of my head, where he palms my scalp. “Are you okay?”
I nod.
He tugs down my messy bun, his fingers trailing through my hair. “So beautiful,” he murmurs as he tips my face up. He fuses his lips to mine, tasting me with soft, hesitant brushes.
My hands curl around his waist, and his sensual mouth deepens the pressure. His tongue tangles with mine, stroking against it. I feel the warmth of his hand as it heats my nape, tightening. I hear the pounding of his chest. He kisses like a dream, and oh Jesus, his hand is trailing down, across my arms, to my elbows, to my hips. I smell and feel everything, the scent of his hair and skin, the scratch of his jawline. His fingers dig into me, tugging me closer and closer as his lips suck on my bottom one tenderly. My nipples harden, aching. His hands brush my ass, sparking heat between my legs. I melt into him.
Oh.
This feeling.
Heat.
Desire.
My fingers tangle in his hair, tugging him closer as the kiss intensifies. A rumbling, needy sound comes from his throat, one that urges me on.
Fire licks in my veins.
Suddenly, he pulls away, both of us breathing heavily as his forehead rests against mine. He brushes a thumb over my cheek, seeming to gather himself faster than I do.
“That was for your family,” he whispers in my ear. “They have their noses pressed to the windows, watching us.”
So that’s why he kissed me.
It stings. It shouldn’t. I’m a tough girl who’s had plenty of relationships that didn’t go anywhere, so this one shouldn’t be any different.
When I look into his face, he’s wearing a bored expression.
I swallow thickly, shoving away the desire still burning in my veins.
He tucks his hands in his slacks, hardness settling over his features as he glances at the flowers. “I’m going to take care of Kian.”
I stiffen. “What? No. Don’t do anything.”
He chews on that, his eyes dangerously mercurial as they flash. “Why not? Because you’re in love with him?”
“No. Because it’ll only cause more trouble. Graham—”
“He hasn’t let you go yet. And you thought someone was following you recently.”
“I’m overly paranoid since Vegas. It’s probably nothing.”
“You need to text me or call me if something happens.”
I shake my head. “Nothing is going to happen. Maybe he didn’t send these.”
His jaw tics, and he spears me with a look, one that says he isn’t backing down on this. “Your favorite flowers just magically appear at the bookstore. I don’t think so.”
“I don’t need a guard.”
He drags both hands through his hair. “I’m taking responsibility for you, Emmy. No one will hurt you.”
“You’re taking responsibility for me for a very short time. We’re pretend, remember? And it will end. We’ll end.”
His hands flex as he frowns, searching for something to say; then: “I think about him choking you, and I get very . . . angry. Those bruises were dark, and you must have been terrified. I saw the scratches on his hands, ones that you must have put there. God damn it. I regret not beating the shit out of him at the motel.” His nose flares. “What did you ever see in him?”