With a groan, he collapses on top of me as we attempt to catch our breath. I have no idea how long we lie like that before he peels away and flops over onto his back, dragging me with him so I’m sprawled half on top of him.
He rests his palm against my spine, drawing circles with his fingers that send goose bumps dancing across my skin. I snuggle in deeper, burrowing into his neck so I can be enveloped by the scent of him. “I am going to owe Hailey a million apologies.”
“Too loud?” He flips us over, pushing me until I’m lying flat on the bed.
I squirm until all the curves of my body click into the planes of his. “So…the FBI, huh?”
He traces a path over my ribs. “I’m shocked you waited this long.”
“I was demonstrating patience.” I flash a smile at him. “Also, something about coming inside me makes you chatty.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “You are incorrigible.”
“You say that like it’s not one of your favorite things about me.”
“One of them.” Lines bracket his mouth, but his palm continues a slow, easy glide over my skin. “I don’t reveal information about myself voluntarily, and sometimes, even when I am asked, I won’t answer.”
I study his expression. He’s not closed off, but I can see the guard trying to slip over him. See that he’s resisting it for me. “Maybe you could start by telling me what everyone else already knows and see how you feel.”
Our palms slide together, creating a friction of heat and energy that feels alive. “You already know more than almost anyone.”
Confusion has me furrowing my brow. “I don’t understand. Ryder and Sophie said they knew.”
“Other than knowing I was in the FBI, tonight at dinner is the most I’ve told anyone but Mitch, and all he’s privy to are the details of how I got there.”
My heart leaps in my chest. “Downstairs was the only story you’ve ever told about your past?”
“Yes.”
“And you did it…” I twine my fingers with his. “…because of me?”
“I did.” He squeezes tight and rests our clasped hands on my stomach. “Your sister is important to you.”
“Oh.” I blink, my throat growing suspiciously tight, but I manage to squeak out, “Thank you.”
“There’s nothing to thank me for. You didn’t want to abandon your sister.”
“I didn’t.” He’d understood my reasons. “When she gets into deadline mode, she becomes obsessive and hyperfixated, forgetting everything else. I need to make sure she doesn’t starve.”
He strokes my skin. “You’re not the kind of woman that abandons her sister for a guy.”
“I’m not.” He gets me. He doesn’t want to change me.
He leans down and brushes a kiss over my lips. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything. Start from the beginning and don’t stop until I know how you ended up as sheriff and living in Revival.”
A subtle tension takes up residence in his body, but instead of pulling away like I expect, he throws his arm around my waist and brings me closer. “I’m not sure I can manage everything in one night, but I’ll try to fill in some of the basics.”
“I can live with that, but that doesn’t mean I won’t press or forget.”
“I’d expect nothing less.”
“Here, I’ll make it easy for you. How did you come to be at the FBI in the first place?”
“I was recruited.”
“Really? How did that happen?” I’m not surprised. Between my job and my brother, I’ve dealt with a lot of law enforcement in my time, and there’s no question that Charlie is unique. The question is more how they identified him in the first place.
