Page 73 of Defending Love
“Ben told me something the other day. He said to listen to my gut.”
“Is your gut telling you something?”
“It’s telling me that I’m in way over my head with you. I don’t know what you want.”
I sat up, pulling the sheet over my breasts and feeling my well-fucked core. My lips pursed in a grimace.
“You can always say no,” he said, watching my expression.
“I never doubted that.” My hand cupped his cheek. “If I ever want to say no, I will. As for what I want…” I inhaled. “I want Dad’s killer found, and if I’m completely selfish, I want this, you and I together, every night and every morning.”
Eli laid his hand over mine and tugged it down. Intertwining our fingers, he lifted my hand and kissed my knuckles. “I don’t think any of that sounds selfish.”
“But it is,” I admitted. “Last night you told me about your career with Guardian Security. If you’re someone else’s bodyguard, you would be with them, not me.”
“Dani, I’ve never been with an assignment before. You said you don’t sleep on the second day. I don’t fuck my assignments. I’m not sure what the future holds, but I’d like to explore it openly. Guardian has other positions, people behind the scenes.”
“I can’t ask you to give up your passion. You’re not asking me to walk away from Sinclair Pharmaceuticals.”
“Passions change.” He leaned back against the headboard, the sheet slipping to his hips, a trail of dark hair disappearing just under the cover. “My passion was the Marine Corps and then Special Ops. I enjoy most of my assignments.”
“Not all?”
He shook his head. “Not all. I’ve lived rather frugally over the last ten years and have been paid well. I’m sure I’m not as well-off as your family, but I’m hardly a pauper. I could spend some downtime and figure out what’s next.” He again reached for my hand. “I don’t want us to move too fast and frighten one of us away.”
“It’s fast and it’s slow.”
He leaned over, kissing my cheek. “I understand completely.”
I sat forward. “I’ll shower and then…I think I have some eggs and bread. I can put together some kind of breakfast.”
“Coffee?”
My lips curled. “Definitely coffee.”
A few minutes into my shower, the bathroom door opened. Through the steam on the glass doors, I watched as Eli entered wearing only his boxer briefs and set a coffee cup on the vanity. “Um,” I said, “thank you.”
“Cream, no sugar.” He slid the glass barrier and scanned me up and down. “If I wasn’t waiting on a phone call, I’d consider joining you.”
“It may be difficult to do your job if you’re too distracted.”
“No. You’ll remain safe. The alternative isn’t an option.” One more scan and Eli shut the shower door.
I didn’t dry my hair, but I dressed in comfortable clothes, a teal green sports bra and leggings, covered by a wide-neck top. The morning sky was crystal blue as I opened the blinds in the bedroom. The sidewalks below were nearly empty, a big difference from last night. In the kitchen, I found not only eggs and bread, but bacon.
Once everything was cooked and warm, I walked down the hallway to Eli’s office. It was also his bedroom; however, I had high hopes the bed would go unused. He was standing at the window, with his phone to his ear.
“Breakfast,” I said softly.
Eli spun toward me. There were now blue jeans covering his boxer briefs but no shirt. I stared at his fit torso and wide shoulders. The smile and shimmering gaze from before were gone. If I were to evaluate, I’d say he looked angry.
“What happened?” I asked.
His Adam’s apple bobbed. He nodded. “Keep looking into it,” he said into the phone. “Let me know as soon as you have an answer.” He disconnected the call. “Two handwriting experts agree that your father wasn’t the person who wrote that letter.”
“No.” I furrowed my brow. “I know my own father’s handwriting.”
“It was similar. Whoever wrote it did a very good job of trying to imitate it. The experts look at more precise markers. The places where there’s more pressure. While it’s consistent in the letter, it’s inconsistent with other handwriting samples they used for comparison.”
