Page 91 of From West, With Regret

I laugh, tucking her hair behind her ear before leaning down to kiss her. “I knew the answer, I just wanted to hear you say it again.”

She playfully slaps my chest, ghosting my mouth with hers. “Why?”

“Because I will never tire of hearing how happy you are.” I say, lowly. “Especially when I’m the cause.”

“Oh, I think you’re mistaken,” she teases. “Meeting Emily made me happy. Not you.”

I jerk back, pretending to be offended. “Are you saying I don’t make you happy?”

“You don’t.” Her gray eyes narrow, coyly. “You make me so much more than that.” She wraps her hand around my necklace, cradling it in her palm, protecting it as if, deep down, she knows its significance. From the first time she saw it, shehasn’t indicated that she remembers it, but sometimes I think she does, subconsciously. She’s drawn to it without even knowing why, anchoring herself to the small piece of metal.

I hold my breath, never taking my eyes off London when I pull off the necklace. I slip it over her head, and my eyes drop to the charm resting against her chest. She fingers the tiny metal, then lifts her gaze to mine.

“Same here, Dimples,” I confess. I smirk when tears well in her eyes. Maybe I’m a fool for thinking her wearing it might trigger a memory. No, scratch that. I am a fool.

She doesn’t let go of the charm even when I pull her toward me, claiming her mouth with my own. My hands smooth down her backside and I palm each of her ass cheeks, tugging her upward, showing her exactly how she’s making me feel. She moans against my mouth as my partially hardened dick presses against her thigh. I’m slipping my tongue between London’s full, gorgeous, painted lips when her phone rings in her pocket. The moment quickly fades. I reluctantly pull away, and she tugs it from her coat. She barely looks at it before shoving it back into her pocket, but I already read the screen.

“They’re still calling you?”

“Yeah. They haven’t been that bad this week. In fact, this is the first call I’ve gotten all day.”

“Huh.” I look around, a sudden chill slinking down the back of my neck. My stomach sinks, and I can’t figure out why this unsettling sensation washes over me.

We’re alone here. Right?

I look down at London, who is looking up at me, wide-eyed. The joy from our day is quickly sucked out of her.

“Come on,” I say, sniffing. “Let’s go home.” I drape my arm around her, pulling her into my side as we head back to the car.

Once inside, she buckles herself into the passenger seat, and I start the engine. It roars to life, and my headlights don’t reachnearly as far as they did on the drive over here. I can only see about ten feet in front of the car.

“Well, shit.” I sigh, rubbing my fingers over my stubble. “This drive will be fun.”

London leans forward, narrowing her eyes as she looks through the windshield. “Hopefully, it’ll clear up the closer we get to the city.”

I agree and shift my car into drive before pulling out onto the road. I opted to take a different car than the one Alden usually drives for me, this one small, with black interior. I fell in love with this car as soon as I saw it. The seats are a rich, black leather, trimmed with bright red stitching. It’s sportier than any car I’ve owned, but when I glance over to London and place my hand on her knee, I know it’s perfect. This car suits her.

I’m following the directions from the GPS, noting this time, it’s taking us on a different path. The trip is about twenty minutes longer, but I don’t mind. Not when I’m with London.

“I know it sounds crazy,” she says, resting her arm against the car door, gazing at the endless trees we pass by as we pull out of the town onto the back roads. She pinches her thumb nail between her teeth and glances over at me. “But I kind of like it here. I can’t explain it, but I feel like I’ve already been here before. Or somewhere like it.”

I grip the steering wheel tighter, rubbing my hand over the sharp leather.

I was worried taking London this close to the foster home we grew up in would trigger something for her. Then again, she has triggers all over the place, and none of them have caused her to regain her memory.

Besides, I don’t even think we’re close to that house, anyway.

“You like it?” I ask, checking the rearview mirror.

There’s a black car following us out of town. Thelast traffic light turns red, forcing us to a stop. I keep my eye on the car, wondering if it’s going to take a turn at some point before following us down the back road. I recognize it from when we pulled out of the parking lot down the street from Emily’s gallery.

My heart pounds, and the same feeling slithers down my spine that I got when we were walking to the car.

“I do.” London gently smiles. “I wonder if I grew up somewhere similar to this.”

“What makes you say that?” The blood slowly drains from my face. I take a left onto a smaller, residential road, lifting my eyes to the rearview mirror again. The car is still tailing us. I try to weave from one lane to the next, but it’s quick to mimic my moves.

“I don’t know,” London continues, scratching her head. I nearly forgot I’d asked her a question. “When you told me you grew up around here, I swear something in my head clicked. I got this flash of a memory. Or what I think is a memory.”

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