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She sighed, forcing herself out of the pillow-soft king-sized bed. After taking a soothing shower, she searched through her black duffel for some comfortable clothes, selecting denim jeggings and a baby blue blouse, and padded out barefoot into the living room. The cuts on her feet ached but no more than her eyes and ears.
“Hi.” Brendan closed his laptop and set it on the coffee table. Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, he motioned his hand out, offering for her to join him on the light pink sofa. “Did you sleep well?”
“Great, considering.”
He studied her expression, a concerned look crossing his face. “Considering?”
“Relax, Brendan. You said you’re crazy about me?”
He nodded.
“Well, I’m crazy about you too. I loved everything we did last night.”
His eyebrows shot up, and he beamed an adorable smile. “Good to hear.”
She shimmied into the sofa cushions and placed her feet on his lap. “Considering my mom is still missing, my feet, ears, and eyes ache—oh, and Jed and his entourage are still after us—considering all that. Any updates?”
“Quill is downstairs working with Manning’s team on our plan to bury Marshal.” Brendan caressed the top of her feet, sending electrical tingles through her while he spoke about her ex, of all things. Did he realize just the touch of his fingertips turned her on? Probably not. “We’ve got some intel on him,” he continued. “It’s just a matter of gathering enough evidence to ensure we have a solid case. I ordered some breakfast for us. Should be here soon.” A knock sounded on the door. “Wow, perfect timing.”
Brendan got up, and her mind screamed in protest at the loss of contact. He wheeled in a cart of food. Genevieve loaded up a plate of eggs and fruit and eased back into the cushions. They ate in silence for a few minutes before she set her plate back on the cart.
“I needed that, thanks.”
Brendan wiped his mouth with a napkin and set his finished plate next to hers. “Me too.”
She pulled a worried lip into her mouth. “Any word on my mom?”
“Nothing yet. I’m sorry, Gen. I wish I had a different answer for you.”
She nodded. “How are you holding up?”
“Me?” Brendan tilted his head. “What do you mean?”
“I basically upended your life. You’ve been racing cars, throwing flash grenades, running from bullets, dealing with criminals, and making alliances with casino powerhouses. All of that is intense, as is the legal stuff, I’m sure.” She sighed. “I churned up Quill’s life, too. I’m going to have to thank him next time I see him.”
Brendan grasped her hand, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “Other than that, we don’t have this resolved yet, I’m fine. I want to end it so we can move on with our lives. When everyone is safe, I’ll be happy. All I want is to be with you and live in peace. As for Quill,”—he shook his head, chuckling softly—“there’s no need to worry about him. Seriously, he’s having fun. He enjoys the intensity of all this.”
She huffed out a long breath. “Well, he can have it. I’ve had enough of it.”
Brendan brushed his fingers across her knuckles, sending a swarm of butterflies through her stomach. “What do you want after we resolve this?”
She blinked. “What?”
“Our future. What’s your dream?” His fingers increased their pace, strumming in nervous repetition across the back of her hand while he waited for her response. So cute!
She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I haven’t given it much thought. My life has been escaping Jed Marshall for so many years now.”
Brendan pinched his features. Clearly, he’d meant to get her focus off Jed and on their future together, but she was just being honest, and truthfully, she didn’t really know. She hadn’t imagined ever breaking free of Jed.
“Okay, here goes.” She drew in a calming breath and closed her eyes, trying to imagine a future of her choice. “Off the top of my head, I’d say spend time with you and my mom. Make some friends. Work at a non-profit women’s shelter.” She opened her eyes and met his enraptured gaze.
“That paints a wonderful picture of the future. So no more advertising manager then?”
“I don’t think so. I want to be an ally for those who have no one to turn to—specifically for domestic abuse victims who are fighting battles for their independence. Without my mom and then you…” She shook her head, swallowing through the clog of emotion in her throat. “I need to give back to others. When I was sitting out on the chair by the pool last night, I realized I had hope for the first time in a long time because I had allies. What about all those people who have no one? I want to give them hope, too.”
He nodded. “That sounds incredible, Gen.”
Her heart pitter-pattered at his acceptance of her dreams, coupled with his endearing use of her nickname. It felt so intimate. “And kids,” she added softly. “I’d like to have at least two, but not for a while. I want time to focus on me”—she smiled—“and you.” The look of sheer warmth in his eyes touched her to the core. “What about you, Brendan? What’s your dream?”
