Page 16 of Vow

“Do you want to come in?” he asked.

Famous last words …

FOUR

Do you want to come in?

Six words.

Six simple words.

On the surface, they seemed innocent and not at all problematic. They shouldn’t be the kind of words that made Haven’s chest constrict painfully, or her heart race out of control. They were not those kinds of words.

And yet, they were.

They were exactly those kinds of words.

Andino swung an arm wide, and took one step backward as if to open his place to her, and silently invite her in alongside his words. She would have responded right away, but she was a little struck at simply staring at this man.

That hard, square-cut of his jaw. The stubble dusting his cheeks. The way his lips curved slightly at the edges like he might be happy, but he wasn’t willing to share it with a true smile. The greens of his eyes. A naked, expansive chest unmarked by ink or scars, and a railroad path of abs that led down to the pair of slacks he wore unbuttoned and resting low on his hips.

All of him, really.

Still tall.

Still broad shouldered.

Still terribly handsome.

Haven hadn’t thought anything would change. Why would it? Other than how she felt inside, and in her heart, very little changed about her since the last time she saw him. Still, looking at him then was like seeing him for the first time.

It was overwhelming.

Very much so.

“Well?” Andino asked quietly. “Do you want to come in?”

She should have said no, and stepped back. She should have given him the truth—she’d only come here to check in on him, and make sure he was okay after what she heard on the radio that evening. Nothing more, and nothing less.

She cared.

He’d proven he didn’t care at all.

Well, she’d gotten her answer. She could see he was fine, and that was enough to quell the panic that had lingered high in the back of her throat like vomit threatening to spill ever since she heard what happened.

It should be enough.

It wasn’t even close to it.

Haven stepped into the house, and closed the door behind her. She didn’t miss the way the enforcer at the end of the walkway looked her over, but was quick to turn his back when she shut him out with the door. Spinning back around to face Andino, ready to explain why she was there, and that she couldn’t stay for long, something stopped her.

She finally saw it, then.

The injury—large and jagged—on his arm. Red, and sore. It looked horribly painful, and the stitches seemed to be barely holding it together.

Andino didn’t miss the way Haven flinched. “It’s not bad. Looks worse than it is, I swear.”

“How did that happen?”