Page 69 of Doughn't Let Me Go

I’d let him make fun of my name all day if it meant he’d smile like that again.

“It sounds dreadfully boring.”

“It can be.”

“How’d you get into doing cybersecurity?”

It’s the first time I’ve asked about his job, and it surprises him too.

Brows raised, he asks, “You really want to know?”

I nod. “I’m curious. Besides”—I sweep my hand around the room—“you must have a good origin story if you got all this out of it.”

“Origin story? Does that mean I’m a villain?”

“Undetermined.”

Another grin. “I—”

His phone chimes and he swipes it off the counter.

“Shit. Story for another time. I gotta get going. Small issue on the West Coast and I’ll have to call my assistant on the drive there.”

“Sure. No problem.” I nod again, sipping my coffee to hide my frown.

Porter downs the rest of his and puts his empty mug in the dishwasher.

He turns toward me, and I peer up at him.

“What?” I say when he doesn’t speak or move.

For the first time since I’ve known Porter, he hesitates.

Uncertainty is a weird look on him. He’s always so…strong. Assertive. Sure.

Then, after he’s waged the war inside himself, he takes a decisive step toward me.

Then another.

Then he’s right beside me.

My breath hitches, and I know he hears it.

His hand goes up and…

He reaches past me, into the fruit bowl.

A wolfish grin curves his mouth. “Breakfast will have to be on the road today.” He shakes an apple at me.

He steps around me and I watch him leave, still holding my breath.

When he reaches the edge of the kitchen, he pauses, his head turning slightly.

“Dory?”

Dory.

I don’t say anything. I don’t have to. He knows I’m listening.

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