Page 189 of Deadfall

I laughed. “Isn’t tomato a fruit?”

He frowned. “Okay, that’s—a good point I guess—still, no pineapple!”

“What’s your favorite then?” I asked.

“Olives.”

“Seriously?”

“Yup. Love them. Have you ever had one of the green ones stuffed with bleu cheese?”

I shook my head.

“Oh, you’re missing out. We’ll have to fix that. Even better is a gin martini with stuffed olives—yum.”

I made a face. “Bleu cheese in a drink?”

“Don’t knock it till you try it.”

We settled into a comfortable silence then. He finished his beer and leaned back on his hands. We enjoyed the evening as it deepened, and the stars continued to wink into existence in the night sky.

Seven finally broke the silence. “Nice sweatshirt,” he said and nudged my shoulder.

I smirked. I’d stolen it from him. I missed being wrapped in his scent—in something that was his. I knew he liked it too, because he kept leaving it out in places he knew I’d pick it up.

“Thanks. I was a little disappointed that it didn't have chocolate in the pocket.”

“Damn, you caught me slacking.”

Seven dug into his pocket and pulled out a mini Three Musketeers bar. I laughed, and his face lit up as he handed it over.

“Good thing I’m always prepared,” he teased with a sly smirk.

“Do you always just have them on you?” I exclaimed.

He shrugged. “You never know when you need a quick hit of chocolate.”

I took the candy. “I get the reference now.”

“I thought you might catch on to that,” he chuckled.

I slowly unwrapped the candy and took a bite, then I held it out to him to see if he wanted to share. Instead of taking the chocolate from me, he gently clasped my wrist and raised my hand to his mouth. He took a bite of the candy as it rested between my fingers. His teeth lightly grazed my fingertips and my breath caught. Those eyes swam with mischief. I didn’t look away as I ate the last bit, then realized he had chocolate on his lip and giggled.

“You have chocolate on your face.”

Seven’s smile was smoldering and had darkened into something provocative. Yet he made no move to close the distance between us, even though I desperately wanted him to. This man, who gave me sweatshirts, and chocolate, and safety in a way that never pushed my boundaries.

Griffin may have been my inevitability, but Seven was my choice. A choice I’d already made but hadn’t acted on. A choice I’d make over and over again because he felt like consent, and safety, and home.

I realized he would never take this from me. Unlike Griffin, there would be no cornering, no big question. Seven was a quiet understanding that if I wanted him, if I wanted this, he was there. He would always be there.

So, I did what I knew I had to do. I climbed onto his lap, thighs pressed on either side of his hips. His hands went to my waist to steady me, but even there they held restraint and didn’t wander, despite his eyes blown black with desire. I’d seen glimpses of this look and knew, in the full face of it, how ruinous it would be. I slid closer to him until my body was flush against hard muscle tight with power he held in check.

“Emersyn.”

My name was a breath in the space between us. A plea, a prayer, something sacred to worship. I moved my thumb carefully across his bottom lip and swiped up the chocolate, then I brought my finger to my mouth and slowly sucked it off.

“Fuck,” Seven muttered. “You’re killing me, little storm.”