Page 128 of Renegade Rift

I’m royally fucked.

She has no idea about the article.

And everything in me doesn’t want to ruin whatever moment she has planned for us.

Never mind.

I know one more thing too.

I’m a selfish prick who wants just one more night with her before everything goes to shit.

The door clicks shut behind me, and my moment of voyeurism ends when Juliet spins on her heel to face me.

“You’re here.” She’s quick on her feet and closes the space between us in seconds, wrapping her arms around me.

This.

This is all I need.

Fuck what the press will say. These moments will be enough to see us through.

I press my nose into her hair and inhale the citrus smell of her shampoo. “I’m here.”

Juliet pulls back and glances around the apartment, pride gleaming in her eyes. “What do you think?”

“It’s definitely not my kind of organized chaos, but I think I can get behind a cuddle puddle in the pillows.” I playfully twist a strand of hair around my finger. “Though I don’t think the candles are going to survive with Lodhi around.”

She rolls her eyes at my slight against her cat. “That’s why I went with plastic.”

“Can I ask what the occasion is?”

“It’s our third date.”

“You—you planned this? For me?” I’m floored. I’ve never had a woman show up for me. Not like this.

She nods and I drink in the confidence she’s radiating. She’s come so far since she stumbled into this apartment and took her clothes off to clean.

“I figured you planned the first two, and dating is fifty-fifty, so it was my turn.”

“Taking initiative. I like that.” She beams at my praise and I lean in and press a chaste kiss to her lips, needing to feel them against mine if only for a moment. Then I whisper against them, “But you got one thing wrong.”

Juliet arches to see my face and study it with absolute dismay. “What’s that?”

“Dating is one-hundred, one-hundred. And any man not giving you that kind of percentage isn’t worth your time.”

“And areyouthat kind of man?” She echoes the same sentiments as she did after the D&D game.

I cock a brow, even though my insides are buzzing. “Are you ready to have that conversation?”

“Maybe later. I have other plans for us first.” She untangles herself from my arms and heads for the center of the room where she can give me the grand tour.

“Do you now? And what would that include?” I follow behind, her absolutely willing participant.

“Food—” She lifts her hand toward the table. “Well, dessert. I wasn’t planning on you going out after the hearing, but I understand why you did.”

“I would have come home.”

She waves her hand away. “No, it’s fine.”

---