Page 117 of Finding Denver
Ranger and I didn’t have a wedding cake. We had a photograph during a wedding speech where I boasted about how invincible we were. I bragged about our kills, our power, and swore no mercy to those who got in our way.
How arrogant I was.
“No beard,” I say. “You look so young.”
“I look better now,” he says pointedly, putting the photograph back, and slipping his hand into mine as he walks us to the window. The snow is falling again, slow twists of white against a darkened street. My heart picks up as Colt pulls me close. “Say I look better now.”
I grin. “You look better now.” He nods approvingly and lowers his lips to mine, cupping the back of my head to angle my head back and deepen the kiss. He tastes like tiramisu and smells like his cologne, and I lean into him, my nerves taking a back seat along with my memories.
“Fuck, I love kissing you,” he growls against my mouth.
“Then keep doing it.”
The front door bangs closed, and a voice says, “I’m here for a coloring book that apparently is the best of all the coloring books Holly has, which given she has seventy thousand is?—”
Wilder stops dead in the entryway to the living room.
Chapter 31
Colt
Denver and I are still pressed together, my hand cradling the back of her head, the taste of her still on my lips.
My brother looks between us, his expression torn between bewilderment and disgust.
Fuck.
He shakes his head, his eyes wide. “What the fuck?”
Denver is frozen, her attention on him, her breathing picking up. She pulls from me. “I … need to go.”
I try to take her hand, but she snatches it back. “Denver?—”
She grabs her coat from the couch and strides toward Wilder but stops when he doesn’t move aside. His mouth keeps opening and closing, and he scratches his neck.
“Move,” Denver whispers. “Or I will hurt you.”
He steps back and allows her to leave. I stride after her, taking her hand as she pulls the front door open and steps over the threshold. “Denver, just let me?—”
“No.” She tugs her hand free from me. “This is why Icouldn’t do this. This is why I …” She glances behind me. “I can’t do this, Colt. I’m sorry.”
This was my worst nightmare. Even before I fell for Denver, the idea of them meeting again kept me up at night. The worst-case scenario then was that she’d kill him. Now, it’s this. That I’ll lose even the fragments of time I have with her.
The cold bites into my skin as I follow her down the steps and onto the sidewalk. “Him existing doesn’t change how you feel about me, and it certainly doesn’t fucking change how I feel about you.”
She spins on her heel to face me. “Him existing changes everything! Do you know what it’s like to be blamed for someone’s death, Colt? To love someone and have their best friend look you in the eye and saythis is your fault. Because I do. I know exactly how it feels, and it’s because of him.”
“I … I can’t change that, Del.”
There are no tears in her eyes. No sadness or despair. Something darker, angrier, has taken over her expression. The snow is heavier now, flakes twisting between us in the breeze that picks up a piece of her hair and blows it across her face. “And I can’t change how much I want to walk back into that house and slit his throat for murdering people just because he could.”
She turns and walks away, and I stare after her.
Everything in me wants me to follow her, but it’s useless when I don’t know what to say to fix it. It’s been nearly a year, and I still can’t fucking fix it.
One of my men across the street catches my eye and I nod at him, a silent command to make sure she gets home safe. I go back into the house. The door bangs closed behind me as I stride past my brother and into the living room.
“You’re fucking Ranger’s wife?”
