Page 178 of Wicked Savage

“Hey, baby. Are you in bed yet?”

“Yes,” I tease. “Why do you want to know?”

His laughter deepens. “Get your head out of the gutter, girl. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

A slow smile spreads across my lips. “That’s sweet of you, Mr. Quinn.” I let out a yawn. “I miss you.”

“Miss me, huh?” His tone lowers slightly. “How much?”

“Too much,” I admit, closing my eyes and imagining he’s right beside me. “When are you coming home?”

“The day after tomorrow.”

I sigh dramatically. “I guess I’ll survive. Oh, I was going to go over Konstantin’s tomorrow to see Tatiana and Gregory.”

“That’s a good idea. I’ll set up the plane.”

“Thanks.” I let out another deep yawn.

“You sound tired, love.”

“Mm…yeah. But I just can’t seem to sleep without you.”

“How about this? Close your eyes, and I’ll stay on the phone with you until you fall asleep.”

I groan. It’s exactly what I need, having a part of him even when he’s not here.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

A beat of silence passes.

“By the way, your father gave me something when he came by.”

“What’s that?”

I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Your mom…she wrote me a letter.”

He pauses, and I’m almost nervous he’ll get upset at the mention of her.

“What?” His voice grows more curious than mad.

“Your dad said she wrote letters to each of you and the people you’d end up with, so he gave it to me."

Silence lingers on the other end, thick and weighted. When he exhales, it’s slow, almost hesitant. Like the memory of her still sneaks up on him, no matter how much time has passed.

“Shit. I forgot about that. What did she say?”

A small, bittersweet smile tugs at my lips. “Well…she said you’d probably be a pain in my ass, but that I should love you anyway.”

His laughter makes me laugh too, the cadence warm, familiar. Home.

“Yeah…that sounds like my mother.”

My grip tightens around the phone, my pulse picking up speed. I can feel it building inside me, the need to tell him how much I’m falling in love with him, to tell him just what he means to me, what he’s always meant to me.

“Cillian?”

“Hmm?”

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