Page 30 of Dissonance

“I miss Ziggy,” he announces to the ceiling.

“I know, baby. Two more days until we’re home,” Declan coddles, trying not to laugh.

“Lockie.” Cooper’s head rolls toward me, a very drunk grin spreading across his face. “You should have a kid.”

I stare at the floor numbers lighting up one by one. “Is that right?”

“A little girl.” He straightens, eyes brightening as the idea takes hold. “Then we can set her up with Ziggy, and when they’re older, and—” He does something with his hands I think is meant to be an explosion. “Family forever. Properly.”

“We’re already family,” I deadpan. “Isn’t that what you said?”

“More family.” Head flopping back onto Declan’s shoulder, he sighs happily. “You’d be a good dad, y’know.”

I say nothing.

“What? You don’t agree?” Declan glances over, brow creasing.

“I’ve spent my whole life trying to keep people alive. Doesn’t exactly make me want to rush toward the idea of raising someone I could lose.”

I’ve already learned what that’s like. Once is enough.

Cooper opens his mouth to say more but is distracted by the elevator doors opening. We get him into the suite, shoes still on, face-first onto the bed.

“Babe…give me five minutes, and then I’ll rock your world,” he mumbles into the pillows.

Declan snorts, loosening his tie as he walks me back to the door. “Sure, you will.”

“Have fun with that,” I say.

“With a late checkout tomorrow? Don’t worry, we will,” he jokes, hand landing on my shoulder. “Enjoy your night.”

I leave before he can say anything else, the door closing behind me with a soft snick. Outside, the night’s cooled, the SUV still idling by the curb. She hasn’t left. I didn’t think she would, but my chest loosens when I open the door and find her there anyway, gaze forward, not looking up when I climb back in.

“I considered leaving,” she says, brushing her hair back. “But I know you’re the type who’d hunt me down.”

“Aye.” I pull the door shut. “I am.”

I keep my eyes on her as the car pulls back out into the street. On the tight line of her spine, the pulse fluttering at her throat. The careful way she holds herself still. But I know this woman, know the sounds she makes when she’s trying not to let go, know how her body softens when she finally does. Know what it takes to get her there, and exactly how long she can hold out before she gives in.

“You’re staring,” she whispers, more breath than words.

“Aye.”

“You should stop.”

I move across the seats until I’m beside her, leaning in, my mouth at her ear. She sucks in a sharp breath, fingers pressing flat against her thighs. She still doesn’t look at me, and I let the silence sit.

“Tell me to stop, Thea,” I say, low enough that it doesn’t carry past her. “Tell me you don’t want my mouth on your neck.”

A muscle in her jaw tightens.

“On that spot that makes you shiver before I’ve even done anything.”

Her fingers curl, the fabric bunching slightly in her fist.

“Tell me you don’t want me to take my time with you. Nice and slow.” I lean back, watching her throat move on a swallow. “So slowly, you’d be begging before I’d even kissed you properly.”

Her lips part, tongue tracing the lower one, and I bring my mouth back to her ear so she feels every whispered word.