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Rick sets me down in a bathroom that is remarkably large, with a claw foot tub. He pulls the hotel robe from the hanger at the back of the door and wraps it around me. “If we’re going to talk our way into the future instead of fuck our way into the future, you need clothes. And so do I.” He grabs a towel and wraps it around his waist. “But first, I need to get dressed and go grab our suitcases from the car.”
My brow furrows. “Suitcases?”
“While I was at the house, I grabbed you some things.”
“Oh,” I say. “Great. Thanks.” He gives me a quick kiss and exits the bathroom.
I frown at the doorway where he’s departed. Why am I bothered by him packing up my things? I walk out into the bedroom and sit down on the plush bed. That’s when I remember the crazy man who jerked off on my bed back at the house. That’s why Rick packing me up bothers me. He’s really worried that this guy is going to come after me, and with good reason. From what he told me, he will. What kind of man jerks off on another man’s bed while someone takes a photo of it?
Rick, now wearing his unzipped jeans, walks back into the bedroom, a suitcase in each hand, and a bag on each shoulder. “Those assholes I work with aren’t always assholes. They left our stuff inside the door.”
“That’s a lot for overnight,” I say, prodding him to come clean with his worries.
He takes the prod. “About that,” he says, unloading the bags just inside the door.
“You don’t want me to go home,” I say. “Ever.” That one word ‘ever’ says it all. Life as I know it will never be the same.
Rick closes the space between us and not even his rippling abdominal muscles and perfect body distract me from the finality of the past. He goes down on one knee in front of me, his big, strong hands settling on my legs, reminding me that our past is never lost. Reminding me that our future is forward. “I want you to make your home with me,” he says, speaking exactly what I need to hear. “Move to New York City with me, baby. We don’t have to live in the place I bought if you don’t like it. We’ll find a new place. We’ll find our place. I want you with me forever. And I have a shit ton of money, baby. You can move your business there. Or hell. We can move anywhere. I’ll work it out with Walker.” He isn’t done there. “I love you. I need you with me.”
Then he’s done, but we aren’t. We are so not done and despite everything wrong in my world right now, he’s right. We’re right. My hands go to his face. “I love you, too. I will go anywhere with you, Rick Savage. I just don’t want to run there. What did Wes do when he found out you killed his wife?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Candace
“You know what happened,” Rick says, catching my hands and settling them back on my knees, his on top of them. “He tried to kill me.”
“And what did you do?”
“I shoved a knife into a major artery.”
“And then you saved him,” I assume, because I know. Because I know this man like I know myself.
“Yes,” he confirms. “And we’ve stayed away from each other since.”
“In other words, he was waiting for the right moment to come for you. And now is that time. Now, he’s coming for you and that means me.”
“And I’m ready for him. I won’t repeat my mistake again.”
“What does that mean?”
“I won’t save him next time. We’re going to start our life together. There’s going to be blood spilled before that happens. There’s no way around that. I need to know that you know that. I need to know that you can live with that.”
“Just find my father, Rick. Once I know he’s safe, I’ll handle everything else just fine.”
“We will,” he promises. “We have a man on the ground close to his territory. We should have news by tomorrow.”
“I can’t leave San Antonio or Gabriel until I know he’s safe.”
“Let’s not go down that rabbit hole of what we can and cannot do tonight or we won’t get any sleep. Let’s sleep now and plan when we’re fresh tomorrow. We have the best part of a week to decide what happens next.” He hands me my phone. “Dickhead texted you goodnight. And he loves you. Do not say that back to him.” He stands up and I catch his hand.
“He’s using me and I’m just trying to keep everyone alive.”
“I know,” he says, his jaw tight, his voice tighter.
“Rick—”
He pulls me to my feet. “I know, baby. That doesn’t make me like it.” He strokes my hair. “I’m fine. We’ll figure this out tomorrow.”
