Page 58 of Fast Currents
“I only hope I wear my fig leaves half as well.”
Chapter 24 Lucy
Clay said it so solemnly, I blinked. Like he was picturing us in our eighties, still naughty as hell.
“You’d really wear fig leaves for me?” I asked playfully. Yes, he was a goof, and he liked to play dress-up. But it was hard to imagine him taking it that far. Then again, he’d look mighty fine in nothing but a strategic leaf or two. I eyed him up and down.
“Lucifer, I have a feeling you could talk me into just about anything if it makes you happy.”
His words were too serious. Too much. I didn’t want to have that much power over someone. Not the kind of power Christopher once had over me. The possibility of that kind of influence scared me.
“Within reason,” I said cautiously.
He lifted his shoulders in a casual shrug. “Or without reason. I love you, you know.”
A battle of fire and ice kept me frozen in place. I wanted to be good for him. Good together.
He smiled ruefully, watching the wash of emotions play over my face. “You don’t have to say it back.” He clasped my hand, pulling me into his chest and wrapping his arms around my hips.
Part of me wanted to snuggle closer, while the other half wanted to tug away. He was being so damn good, and I didn’t want to hurt him. Ever. Was this love?
My breath caught, seizing in my chest. The world collapsed in on me like a vise, twisting my ribcage, compressing until I thought I’d break. The last thing I wanted to do was cause Clay pain.
His expression slowly shuttered as I stayed quiet. A flower of hope folding in on itself and dying as time dilated, speeding in a flash. In that same moment, I could picture our life together. Clay teasing, me giving as good as I got. Us partnering on other art classes. Maybe children. A whole lifetime together. Sure, we’d make mistakes. But not because we wanted to. Not because we didn’t care.
My feelings for him had gone beyond lust. I should have realized it the moment I connected the dots on his moles. But I was slow. Hopefully not too slow to make him mine.
“I love you too.”
“Don’t say it just to say it.”
“I’mnot,” I insisted, suddenly desperate for him to understand. “I promised myself never again, and I meant it.”
“Never again what?” he asked, looking confused.
“Never would I go along because it was easy. Or convenient. Or because I was scared.” I laughed, the sound choked off by my frustrated need to make him believe me. “Though I’m fucking terrified right now. I love you, Clayton Robertson. More than I thought possible.”
He rocked back on his heels like I’d knocked the air out of him. For a long beat, he stared, chest rising and falling. Then his eyeslit, slow and reverent, like he was seeing our future take shape right in front of him.
“I always thought we were possible.”
“I love your smug little smiles and even your pushy marriage proposals.” When he opened his mouth, I laid my finger across it to shush him.
“No more. It’s my turn, Robertson. You had your chance.” I huffed, gathering my courage. “We work together. Impossibly, improbably, we make it work.” He looked like he was going to interrupt me, and I wagged my finger. “I’m not finished,” I chided. “My last relationship was awful. And I’ve carried the scars from that for a long time, trying to reinvent myself into a stronger woman. One more worthy of love – more worthy ofyourlove.”
His hands roamed my back, silently offering support as I babbled my way through my confession. Each stroke gave me more courage. More certainty.
“I’m ready to leave the past behind. Ready for a future with you. I love you, Clay.”
He hauled me closer, kissing me with a mindless need that drove every last thought away. I didn’t care where we were. Who might see. None of it mattered, only his mouth on mine. Reveling in the knowledge that, while we’d started in very different places, on very different paths, somehow, someway, we’d found our way to each other.
“God, I love you,” he bit out between kisses. “I really want you to—"
“Shush,” I said before he could offer again.
“Carry you out of here and ravish you at my place,” he finished with an arch look. “What did you think I was going to say?”
We waved to our friends as we hustled for the door. Part of me felt guilty, sneaking out early, but Agent Harris was here.He had the authority and skills we didn’t. Telling him about my suspicions could wait.
