“Why bother? An open marriage suited them. They live their lives the way they want to. My grandparents have lived separately for years, and they claim to be happy. It seems to be working for my parents, too. The real question is why get married? Ever?” She forced a smile, trying not to feel hollow inside.
Patton stared at her, his expression unreadable.
“Bianca was the first person to notice when I stayed out all night or had a bad day. She was—is—my family. Her family may not have had much money, but they gave generously of their time and affection.” She paused. She’d never really told anyone that before, except Bianca. And she didn’t know why she was telling him. She drew in a deep breath, quickly adding, “You know how that is, I guess. I went with Bianca to pick up your mother’s wedding dress, which is gorgeous by the way, and saw all the pictures. It’s obvious you grew up in a happy home with parents who are proud of you.”
“I guess I did. Dad wasn’t exactly the warm-fuzzy type—”
“Huh, go figure,” she interrupted, grinning at him.
His foot poked out from under the blanket and nudged her. “But there was never a doubt that we were loved.”
“It must have been hard on them.” She nodded at his scars.
“It was.” He stiffened, his expression shuttering before her eyes. “Not because of this.” He tapped the two scars. “But because this happened when Russ was killed.”
“I’m sorry, Patton. I’m so sorry.” She threaded her fingers with his, not sure what to do or say.
He glanced at her hand, then his gaze met hers. She’d never seen so much grief. Listening to him, she felt his pain and sadness. “I won’t lie, it was the worst damn day of my life. Russ worked narcotics with me. He was undercover, a real natural...” He shook his head. “I was in charge of the operation—a sting, nothing unusual. We had it covered, we knew what to expect—how many we were up against. But our intel was wrong and Russ was there... He shouldn’t have been there.” He paused. “Someone got jumpy and bullets started flying. Russ bled out on the way to the hospital. Another officer died at the scene. Everyone kept telling me how lucky I was. All I could think about was my brother...and my parents crying.”
She didn’t think as she dropped the sheet to hold him close. “It’s not your fault. You know that, right? I mean...” She stopped. She had no idea what she was talking about. She stroked the side of his face, murmuring, “You are lucky.”
“To be alive? I know.” His hands clasped her upper arms, pulling her tight against him. “Right now, I’m feeling pretty damn lucky.” His voice was a low growl. His mouth latched on to her bottom lip. “You make me feel alive, Cady.”
She knew exactly how he felt. Her body reacted instantly to him. She wanted him, again—still. Which meant she wasn’t cured of her Patton addiction. But was he cured? That strange nervousness made her heart thump like crazy. “So this didn’t work?” she asked between kisses.
“What?”
“You’re not...tired of me?” she asked.
He barked out a laugh. “Tired?” he asked, rolling her under him. He rested on his elbow and pulled the blanket back. His gaze traveled slowly from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. When he was done, he shook his head and flopped onto his back—his breathing accelerated again.
She turned onto her side, running her fingernails along his side, hip and thigh. His instant arousal impressed her. Especially considering the last few hours. But she understood. She wanted him again, too, badly. “We can’t keep doing this.”
“I know,” he agreed. “It’s a distraction. One we don’t need.”
How could she ache for him when he was right beside her? It was time to be done, to cut off this addiction they had for each other. “No more.”
He nodded, his attention fixed on her lips. “One last time,” he said, meeting her gaze.
She couldn’t stand it then. “One last time,” she murmured, kissing him with a desperation she’d never felt before. His arms caught her, pressing her tightly to him. She slid on top of him, groaning as her body enveloped him. His hands gripped her hips, arching into her until there was no space between them.
“You’re going to kill me,” he ground out.
“Die happy,” she sighed, rolling her hips.
His broken “Cady” pushed her higher. His hands and mouth roved over her body. His hands tangled in her hair, pulling her down. When she moved, his tongue pushed into her mouth, mimicking the actions of their bodies.
Their lovemaking was hard and fast, both of them shouting their releases before collapsing into a heap on the bed. But Patton caught her to him, cradling her against his chest in a way that clutched at her core. The beating of his heart beneath her ear, the way he breathed deep in her hair... She was entering foreign territory here, and it scared the crap out her.
She drew in a deep breath, hoping to relax, when he asked quietly, “Work from home often?”
“Sometimes,” she murmured. “No more than a couple of days a week.”
“I’m guessing you spend more of your time in here,” he continued.
How did he know? “Why?” she asked.
“The apartment. This is the only room that’s...you.” His hand stroked her back. “The rest is impersonal, neutral—like you don’t want to let people see the real you.” He pointed around the room. “This. Colorful, welcoming, comfortable and not nearly as together as