Page 95 of Declan

And with that, he pressed his lips against mine and thankfully left the room.

I dashed to the shower, and it was then I finally allowed myself to soak in his words. I let them penetrate so deep they infused my bones. I’d never forget them. And with the water washing away the tears as they streamed down my face, I had another mission—together, Dec and I were going to create a masterpiece. The most beautiful work of art—it would be an abstract, a piece that was welded together, there’d be scraps, fragments, remnants, sharp edges, and it would be messy.

But it would be fucking beautiful.

Together, we were going to laugh and create art.

That was my new life’s work.

Chapter 30

True to her word, Autumn was showered, dressed, and ready to go in less than ten minutes. I’d left her to fix herself a travel mug of coffee and went to do the same—get ready, that was. By the time I was back, she was waiting at the door, and with a sexy smirk, she handed me a pink to-go mug of coffee.

I took it and opened the door. When her house filled with her husky laugh, I decided I’d drink out of a pink mug for the rest of my life if it amused her.

Hell, yes, I was fully on board with this laughing gig.

Conversation on the way to the office stayed light and dare I say it—normal. Two people making plans for dinner. I decided I was taking her out to downtown Annapolis, to which she replied, “Works for me.”

Easy.

Normal.

And so fucking sweet I was going to work my ass off to keep us going on that path.

The only pall was, I couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d asked about our jobs. I could be, and often was, called to leave without notice. She did her own thing, but I’d read the reports on her and she played the long game, often working a mark for months. She did her own recon, planning, and executed the play. That meant she could be gone for months, me for weeks, and as much as I didn’t want the separation, I seriously didn’t want her traipsing around the world plotting deaths and rescues. Call me selfish but she’d been through enough. She’d saved lives but also taken them, and that marks a person.

And damn if I didn’t know there were only so many hash marks a person could take before they shrivel up and nothing was left.

I was nearing that point. And didn’t want Autumn anywhere close to what I felt.

But that was a discussion for another day. Tonight, I was taking my woman out and we were going to enjoy a slice of normalcy.

We were in the elevator when she asked, “Does Zane own the whole building?”

“Yep. The basement is used as an armory, first floor reception, second floor the offices, third floor Zane’s office. Ivy has one next to his and Linc has one up there, too. Fourth floor is gear. And the roof has a landing pad.”

Autumn gave a low whistle. “I’ve heard rumors about Zane and what he charges, also heard there’s a reason he gets away charging what he does. He never fails. But this building and everything I saw yesterday…damn.”

Zane Lewis was loaded. Autumn was not wrong, Z charged a mint for his services and she was right again about why he got to charge what he did. Zane didn’t fail. There was a reason for that—he only employed the best and he paid us accordingly.

“If I tell you a secret, you promise not to tell?”

Autumn looked up at me, a grin firmly in place, and I liked that a hell of a lot. Her smiling and me teasing her.

I didn’t think there’d ever been a time when I’d teased a woman, not even when they were girls and I was a boy.

“Do we need to make a pinky promise? Maybe prick our fingers and make a blood pact?”

Fuck yeah, I was totally down with this teasing shit, too.

“Men don’t make pinky promises.”

“They don’t?”

“Fuck no, we give our word, and a man that’s worth anything understands his word is unbreakable.”

“Then I give you my word, Declan. That is, if that macho shit translates to a woman being any sort of woman, she knows her word is unbreakable.”