Page 109 of Diamond In The Rough

I peek down to my lap and study the fabric of my shorts. I chose denim cutoffs today. No fancy sundress. No formal attire. I’m me, and denim is what makes me comfortable. “Yeah.” I drag my bottom lip between my teeth and nibble, while my fingers play with the fraying cuff of my shorts. I wish I’d brought my new pendant with me. I wish I’d picked it up on my way out the door instead of leaving it on my kitchen counter for safekeeping. “I understand the love you mean,” I sigh. “It’s pretty terrifying.”

She snorts, picking up her water and drinking. Though she takes it a bit like a shot. “Sure is.”

“Tiia?”

I spin on my stool and stare across at the men who wait in the doorway. Micah’s hard glare and firm lips. His glacial eyes that remind me of the man I thought him to be way back when we ran into each other that first time outside CeCe’s.

My stomach dips because he seems so cold. So distant. But in the same breath, that vise that wraps around my heart and squeezes for every second he’s gone, releases.

It’s a conflicting experience. Much like that of my entire existence with a man who was only ever supposed to be my mark.

“Let’s go for a walk.” He extends his hand and starts my way, wrapping his palm around the back of my neck when he’s close enough to touch. Guiding me off my stool, he pulls me under his arm and shares a long, heated look with his brother, who remains rooted to the spot at the opening of the hall. “You guys start dinner without us. We’ll be back later.”

Felix’s face is hard. Mean. Not at all like the playful man I’ve come to know over the last few days. But he dips his chin in acquiescence and meanders toward Christabelle. “You want Michaels to walk with you guys?”

Michaels?

I look at the guard by the door. But Micah bites out a hard “No,” and turns us toward the pool patio. “We’ll stay on the property. Let’s go, Grá. I have someplace I wanna show you.”

He leads me outside, from air-conditioned cool to humid warmth as another day comes to an end, but the sun is not yet retired. The heat is still in the eighties, maybe the nineties, even with the evening breeze setting in. But with Micah’s body warmth draped over mine, his hand firm around the back of my neck, sweat beads along my skin.

“I haven’t taken you on a tour of the grounds yet.” He presses a kiss to my temple. Though it’s hard. Rough. “There’s a lot out here.”

“The gardens are beautiful.” I catch rolling acres of yellow and red. Green. Purple. White. Flowers in every color of the rainbow. Some in bushes, others in the trees. Roses. Vines. And so many others that I have no names for. “You did all this yourself?”

“Most of it.” He turns us along a path, surprising me as my feet were heading toward the grass. He steers us, a clear destination already mapped out in his mind. “There was always a garden here. Lots of trees and stuff. But when I needed something to do with my mind that had nothing to do with Timothy Malone, I came out here and worked with my hands.” He turns us again, off the brickwork path and onto dirt.

Curious, I glance over my shoulder as we leave the garden he was supposed to be showing off and into the trees surrounding his property.

“I added the architecture,” he continues. “Shaped the flower beds. Created the symmetry where it was needed.” He lets go of my neck and drapes his arm over my shoulders. Reaching out with the other, he snaps a flower from a bush and hands it to me.

Stunned, I look up. And though he smiles, the emotion doesn’t reach his eyes.

“For you, Grá.”

“T-thank you.” Taking it between two shaking fingers, I bring it up to my nose and inhale in search of a pretty scent. Though this one doesn’t really smell like much of anything except, perhaps, moisture. “Where are we going, anyway?” I look out at the trees, and the well-worn path in the dirt. “We won’t get lost, will we?”

“Never. I’ve been out this way a million times since I was a kid. Gotta admit, I’ve never brought a woman out here though.”

My heart wants to swell. It wants to take his words and fly.

But there’s something here that doesn’t match his easy tone. Something not quite in line with the smile he fakes.

If he was anyone else, any other time, any other place, I’d listen to my instincts and demand we turn around. But there’s some saying about hearts. Rose-tinted glasses, perhaps. Blinders.

“H-how much further?”

“Just a couple minutes.” He drapes his arm and rests his palm lazily over my breast. His body, burning mine despite the hour. Then he just… breathes. A deep inhalation, and then a noisy exhale. “How are you feeling after the stuff that went down today at work?” He glances down at me, tilting his head and nibbling on his bottom lip. “Not every day you’re exposed to danger like that, right?”

“No, I…” I swallow the ball of nausea battling to make me out to be a fool. Or a liar. “Not something I’m used to. There were no injuries or casualties though, which is a relief.”

“Such a relief.” His arm grows tighter around my shoulder, steering me around a gentle bend in the path and forcing me to duck when a tree limb hangs low.

“So Jasper’s okay?” I slow my steps. Not alarmingly obvious, but still, my instincts fire in my belly and demand we turn around. “He’ll be alright?”

“He’ll live. Jospeh Wilkes had set us up, though, drawing us across the city to a meeting he intended to be at. If he could put a bullet in mine or Lix’s gut, he would.” Then he chuckles. Startling and sickening, his eyes are just… not his as he studies me. “The fucker would have us dead in a heartbeat if he could. I can’t believe I thought you worked for him.”

My stomach sinks, like a balloon of lead. “You finally believe me now?” I swallow the sickness from my throat. Wipe the clamminess from my palms. Make my escape—mentally, at least. “I’ve been saying from the first day that I don’t work for that guy.”

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