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“Yeah.” I dug my fingers into my pockets and tried to relax my stance. All I wanted to do was reach out and touch her, to strip her naked and learn every inch of her body. Learn what made her moan, gasp, hum. What touches brought her to the brink, and then what would take her over.
“He looked pissed.” She glanced up at me, innocent to the need swirling inside me.
“Most likely, just a long shift. He’s like a grizzly when he doesn’t get his beauty sleep.” I gave her a crooked smile. “He had to fill in for one of his deputies last night.” She didn’t need the added stress of a jealous old boyfriend on top of everything else this week. I hoped that by keeping things light, she wouldn’t worry or get too nosey. I needed time to handle Jason—as if I didn’t have enough on my plate with a sub who didn’t realize she was submissive or that she craved it.
I followed her back into the house, needing more caffeine to face what the day might bring next. She already had both mugs out and began to fill them. She added sugar to both and a splash of creamer to mine and a larger dose to hers. I smiled, realizing she had paid attention to how I took my coffee.
I sat at the table, noticing the manila envelope haphazardly tossed in the center. She joined me, setting my mug in front of me before sitting and cradling her own in her hands. She watched me as I blew on the hot liquid and took a sip.
“Perfection. Thank you, pet.” I grinned at her. She relaxed into her chair, her body reacting to my compliment before her brain registered my words.
“I’m not your pet.”
I ignored the bristling tone, watching her body language instead, satisfied that deep down, she enjoyed the endearment. I nodded my head to the envelope. “Did you read through everything last night?”
She dragged it toward her. “Just the letter Gran wrote to me. I couldn’t bring myself to read the rest.”
I raised an eyebrow in question, encouraging her to go on.
“They are some type of love letters. Lost, or so she thought. I don’t know who to or from, but they must mean something for her to leave them to me.” She opened the outer envelope, pulled out a folded letter and another smaller envelope stuffed full.
“May I?” I asked permission first instead of simply reaching for the letter. It was meant for her eyes, but I was curious as to why her gran would leave her a pile of old letters. She pushed it toward me, and I quickly read through her gran’s scrawling cursive. It was obvious that she loved Genevieve, and I think the letters she left were meant to show her that love is out there for everyone, but not all grasped it in time. Her gran didn’t want her to make the same mistakes she had made. “When do you plan to read them?” I asked as I refolded the letter and handed it back.
My phone rang then, and Brody’s name popped up, but I ignored it. I could call him later; currently, my focus needed to be on Genevieve.
“You can answer it if you want.”
“Nah, it’s just my brother, so he can wait. You didn’t answer my question.” My voice shifted to Dom mode.
“Maybe. I really don’t know what old love letters are supposed to do for me.” She stroked the envelope. I watched the emotions flow across her face; she was curious about what they said but scared to discover something about her gran she might not want to know.
“Your gran was a woman, too, remember that. She left these on the off chance she left this world before she could talk to you about it or share with you her experiences. She loved you and wanted the best for you in life and in love. What will it hurt to see what she thinks she lost?”
“What if I know who they’re from? I don’t know if I want to know who she had an affair with or who she really loved besides my gramps. He died when I was young, but I remember him, and they loved each other.”
“It’s possible to have more than one love in a lifetime. There is more than one type of love, as well. You won’t know until you read them.” I placed my hand over hers, rubbing my thumb across the back of her hand. “I’ll stay while you read them if you want.”
A loud banging on the front door interrupted her reply.
“What the hell?” She stood, her eyebrows drawn together in annoyance. “Sounds like they are trying to break the door in.”
My heartbeat ratcheted up a notch, and I quickly passed her on the way to open it. “Let me.” I yanked her behind me.
“Brian, I can open my own front door,” she huffed.
I ignored her, engaged the chain, though it was little protection against a pissed off Dom, and cracked open the door. A red-faced Jason peered back at me.
“Open the fucking door, Evans.”
