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I pulled away and turned to his mother and held her just as tightly. “Are you okay?”
Her beautiful, brown eyes were red and swollen, the makeup faded and smudged, but there was fire there, a snapping rage I understood because had it been Darius, I would have felt the same.
“I will be once I find who did this.” She said, turning to her eldest son. “Find them. Bring them to me.”
With Alexander on bed rest, Darius was the head of the Medlock empire. He was responsible for running the operation until his father returned. It was also up to him to find whoever did this and set an example, and because we lived separate lives in separate apartments doing different things, I barely saw him for months. I saw him briefly every so often in passing as he was leaving his dad’s office, phone to his ear or when the girls were shoving me out the door on our way somewhere. Each and every time, our eyes met in that tiny second, but it was always too late.
It was a rainy night in April when the shop bells gave a startled jingle and Darius stalked in, cheeks pink from the cold. His dark coat was pulled tight around his broad frame, damp with glittering raindrops. He didn’t have an umbrella, and the way his locks shone in the light, slick and reckless made my stomach muscles tighten.
“Hi,” I blurted, all too aware this was the first time we’d been alone since Christmas. “How are you? How’s your dad?”
He scraped back a loose coil of inky black hair off his brow and the simple gesture did things to me it really shouldn’t have.
“He’s good.” He moved to the bit of glass and metal keeping me from leaping into his chest. “How are you?”
I shrugged because telling him I’d missed him seemed humiliating. “Been keeping busy.” He made a rumbly sound of understanding in his throat but seemed lost in what else to say. “What brings you?”
He studied the ropes of diamonds, pearls and sapphires nestled amongst beds of satin and velvet beneath gleaming glass,but I knew he wasn’t actually seeing them, not based on the deep furrow in his brow.
“I…” he paused to clear his throat. “I was going to tell you Mom sent me to get the bank slips for the week.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Did she?”
He shook his head. “She has no idea I’m here.”
“Oh,” I murmured. “Why then—?”
“You.” The light from the display case shone across his face, casting shadows where the lines were sharp points. It glinted across the blue surface of his eyes under the weight of his dark lashes as he peered through them at me. “It’s been four months, Kami.”
I nodded slowly. “I know.”
“I don’t like that. I don’t like…” he lowered his chin, his fingers curling around the edges of the counter. “It should not have been that long.”
I abandoned my place and circled to stand before him. My hand found his arm. “A lot happened. You dad was shot and you—”
“No, kitten, don’t make excuses for me. I let things slip.” He reached for me, and I held my breath for the first contact of his fingers on my waist. “I should have worked harder to make time.”
“But I understand,” I tried to explain. “I didn’t like it, but I get it. You had a lot thrown at you all at once. Your father was attacked. You had the business to look after, and you had to find the people responsible. That’s not easy to do by yourself.”
“No, Kami.” His arm slid the rest of the way around my middle, and I was yanked into his chest. The impact sent showers of fire raining through me. My nipples tightened through the sheer material of my top and I was sure he could see them as clear as day. “That’s no reason to not see you for four months. It’s not an excuse. I had no idea that much time hadpassed, or I would never…” His cold fingers tucked beneath my chin and my face was lifted to his. “Forgive me?”
I probably should have been angrier, maybe even outraged for being forgotten for that long, but I wasn’t. His father was shot. There was nothing more important than finding the people responsible and returning the favor. I believed that with all my heart. I knew he would never just vanish on me unless it was something important and this was important.
“Only if you come back to our weekly coffees,” I said instead. “I’ve missed you.”
There.
I said it.
His smile was sweet and beautiful as he peered into my face. “I missed you, too, kitten. I missed you so fucking much.”
Maybe it was because I was just used to bottling upthosefeelings from him, never daring to say anything so intimate, but hearing him repeat the words made them feel less mortifying.
“So, this weekend?”
I saw it on his face, a flicker of uncertainty, no doubt assessing his workload, his calendar, his appointments. The millions of things on his plate that needed to be completed.
“I’ll be there,” he stated, face set. “I promise.”
