Page 129 of The Locksmith's Promise

“Like this?” I asked, my voice pitched high.

He nodded. “Going to stick close to you. Neither of us is running from anything this time.”

His big hand trailed down over my stomach and palmed my pussy. “We’re going to hash things out and work our way through the rubble of the past so we can finally put it behind us.”

I nodded as he smoothed his way over to my hip, caressing the tender skin with his thumb. “None of this, for me, is about forgiveness.”

“Okay,” I whispered, unsure where he was going.

“But I’m so fucking angry with you.”

30

Gold

Baxter

My words hit her harder than I expected.

Her eyes widened with fear and filled with tears.

And I almost took them back.

But I’d be taking us in the wrong direction.

Stretched out beside her perfect body in her bed, I attempted to ease the ache of my words with my hand and my mouth.

I stroked the valley between her breasts and laid my palm over her heart.

Kissed the swell of her breast.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, stiff and unmoving.

“I know you are,” I whispered back, kissing the sweet, soft curve of her breast again. “But I need you to understand.”

I forced myself to maintain contact with her even though every cell in my body urged me to bury my need rather than ask her to meet it.

Swallowing hard, I pulled up my resolve.

We were going to do this right.

We were going to do this once.

And I would not accept defeat.

“I’m grieving,” I admitted. “I keep thinking about all the years I missed, and how that all came to be.”

“I’m sorry.”

Sorry wasn’t what I needed.

“I deserved a chance to explain,” I hedged. “Up until that point, I hadn’t done anything wrong, and I deserved a chance to explain what happened without you aban— running out on me.”

Eyes wide and frightened, she latched onto my biceps. “What can I do?”

“You can’t do anything, Maggie.”

“There has to be something,” she pushed. “Tell me how to make it up to you.”

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