Page 115 of Dead Vengeance

He flops onto his back sulkily. “I hear they’re overrated.”

So I roll onto my stomach next to him. “How about tomorrow? When I’ve had a chance to go to the shop?”

His big eyes flash up to mine. “Is that why?”

“That’s the only reason why.”

He nods. Smiles. Focuses his gaze on the ceiling. “I haven’t been with anyone, you know? In a long time. And, from what you’ve said, I get the impression…”

“Neither have I,” I laugh out, kissing his shoulder.

“Okay. Might be worth knowing. For… next time.” He shoots me another fast look, and I don’t think I’ll ever get over this juxtaposition of him. Shy sweetheart versus dirty-mouthed sex pot. The way he flips back and forth so fast. It’s adorable. It’s exciting.

I let my hand fall on his stomach and lay my head down. His arm comes around me to pull me close. And we just lie here. Lie together, the seconds ticking by, perfectly content. More content than I think I’ve ever been.

I wish I could stop time. I wish I really did have magic, so I could still the movement of the clock, put those sands back in the hourglass. No future, no past, just the two of us, lying here, happy.

But eventually Liam’s hand sweeps over my temple, a feather-light touch that still manages to say, that’s enough. He slips from my grasp, reaching for his overalls.

“You’re not going already, are you?” I moan out, keeping my hand on his thigh.

He chuckles. “We’ve got work to do.”

“You didn’t actually come here to work, did you?”

Another gorgeous laugh. “Believe it or not, I actually did.”

I wrestle him back down to the floor, even as he half-heartedly protests, all while he lets me dominate him, lean over him and kiss him again.

“Why don’t we go out?” The wild idea is already forming solid in my mind. “There’s a nice pub in the village. Fireplace, huge meals. What if we go there? Spend the whole afternoon by the fire and just talk?”

“Like normal boyfriends?” he asks me softly.

The words are so sweet. The idea is so monumental. I sweep a lock of hair back from his forehead, the blooming beauty of him like a new chapter unfolding. No, a whole new book. A series. One that might never end… “Would you be my boyfriend?”

The instant smile could light up half the planet. “Yes!” he cries. “Yes! Yes, I’ll be your boyfriend. Yes!” He leans up for a kiss, sweeping me up in his contagious laughter, enthusiasm, general cuteness. “But we’re not going out to the pub all afternoon.” With that, he sits all the way up, slipping out of my reach to kick his legs into his overalls.

“Why?” I practically wail. “What have we got to do here besides maybe getting killed?”

He flicks a stern look back at me. “How nice will it be here if you can’t maybe get killed?”

“Yeah, but…” My hand slides down his muscular back as he hides his nice ass with his annoyingly existent clothing. “How much nicer would it be to just wait a while, then…” I trail off suggestively.

He replies with a deadpan, “You need to go to the shop.”

So serious about getting fucked, this man is.

I give up with a groan as he climbs to his feet, clipping one of his buckles with brutal finality.

Then my pyjamas land on my face.

“Rude,” I protest, fighting them off me.

But he only throws me a grin. “Up. We’ve got work to do.”

thirty-five

Shit Gets Real