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She’d been so close to becoming one.
“So is this Saint taking you out for dinner?”
Sweet Jesus.
“Uh… he cooks.” And I spend all my time with him and pretty much lived with him for the last week.
A horrid light entered her mom’s sky-blue eyes. “That sounds… sexy.”
“Oh my god, please no. I don’t care what you talk to Kristi about, but we have to have some boundaries.”
Her mother giggled like a little girl, and Riley groaned pointedly at her.
“Fine, fine. Point taken. Is he good to you?”
Riley choked, cheeks heating. She turned the screen away. “Yup.”
“Looks like he’s very good to you.” Her mom cackled like a witch. “Well, that’s all I can ask for. When are you bringing him to Florida? I have points.”
It wasn’t really a question.
“Uh, I don’t know. I’ll have to see with work.”
“Tick-tock, honey. Good men don’t grow on trees. Your father will want to meet him. And then there is the question of your biological—”
“MOM.”
“Just kidding, dear. Your body, your choice and all that. I’m just saying.”
Riley was going to need another day off to recover from this.
Chapter 23
Riley
Riley lifted a photograph carefully off the shelf and blew the dust away from the simple frame. Saint and three others stood in fatigues against a cloudless sky, guns cradled against their chests. In the corner, the date was smudged, and she couldn’t make it out.
Saint looked younger, more hollow, his eyes full of shadows. None of them smiled. She replaced the frame in the faint rectangle of dust it’d left.
Cookie shadowed her every step as she wandered the loft. Saint had said he’d done most of the work himself, converting it into a living space. Aaron and Wheeler had helped. A little.
The console for the widescreen TV was full of books, well-loved, but organized. She picked up a novel with Fabio on the front and replaced it next to an engine manual. She found the book on love languages and smiled as she flipped through it.
Cookie’s head was soft under her fingertips. Fresh air swirled up the stairs, straight from the shop below, open to the outside world with the big doors up. The smell of rain was clear, soothing even as it raised goosebumps on her arms. Riley wished the top of the stairs had a door. It was the only thing missing in an otherwise perfect place.
How did you forget a door?
She let her shoulders drop, sore after the long week. Nico and Gio had been away from the office, off-site meetings taking up all their time, and it had been a relief. She’d snuck job applications between tasks but hadn’t seen anything that paid better than what she was making. Gio was a pain in the ass, and she might not love the work, but she couldn’t pay off her loans anywhere else faster. Not without going back to school, which would require… more loans.
“You good?”
She jumped as Saint appeared at the top of the stairs, flannel shirt unbuttoned at the top. His hair was messed up like he’d been running his fingers through it, eyes alight. Her stomach settled at the sight of him.
“I’m good. Cookie is keeping me company.”
Saint’s eyes softened as he looked over Riley and his dog. “You look cold,” he said, stepping through the doorway and then stopping with a glance at his boots, a drip of oil on the toe.
“I’m fine,” she said, and his expression darkened. “I’ll warm up,” she amended.
