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Bently’s other hand gripped her shoulder, pulling her against him. Her cheek pressed against his chest as his arms enveloped her.
“I’m sorry.” His voice was ragged as his chest heaved with each sharp breath.
She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed as she melted into him. Belle breathed him in. A different kind of warmth radiated in her chest. When was the last time she’d been truly just held by a man? Never. Bently’s arms felt . . . safe.
He’s safe.
He kissed the top of her head and backed away. Something about the exchange was so intimate. The way he’d touched her, so careful and gentle, completely opposite of the roughness she’d expected. The way he’d held her . . . he’d given her something rather than taking.
“What else do you need?” he asked, clearing his throat.
You.
***
As they devoured their dinner, TJ and Bently exchanged stories. The deep rumble of Bently’s laugh vibrated through her, teasing her.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you the light came on in the car again for the oil change,” TJ said before shoveling another bite of the pasta into his mouth.
She sighed. “Okay. I’ll make an appointment and take care of it.”
“So, I checked out Hope Facility,” TJ said to Bently.
“What did ya think?”
“It’s a cool place. Half the kids there are homeless. I met a guy whose family kicked him out because they caught him with his boyfriend.” TJ shook his head.
Bently nodded. “Yeah, Aaron originally started Hope because his brother was in a similar situation.”
“It’s cool to meet other people who’ve gone through something similar to what we have. I feel like I can let them know there’s a way out.” TJ scraped the last bite into his mouth.
Bently’s brows creased as he glanced at Belle, his questions written in his eyes.
Belle finished chewing and swallowed before washing it down with a sip of wine.
“At least I had my older sister to look out for me on the streets. Most of these guys only have themselves.”
Belle picked up her wine again. She didn’t mind Bently knowing about her past. She was proud of how far she’d come. But TJ saw her as a heroine, and that made her uncomfortable.
“You were on the streets?” Bently asked. His knuckles grew white around the beer bottle.
“Just for a little bit,” she answered.
“More like a year or so,” TJ corrected. “We had to leave our mom’s because—”
“Does anyone want dessert? I’ve got ice-cream sandwiches,” Belle interrupted.
Bently’s eyes flashed before he nodded. “Sounds great.”
She stood to clear away the plates, but he shot to his feet and took hers, stacking it on his own before reaching for TJ’s.
“The cook doesn’t clean. You just sit there and relax,” Bently said as he took the dishes to the sink. He opened the freezer and pulled out three treats. He tossed one to TJ and then handed one to Belle.
She tore hers open and sunk her teeth into the frozen dessert, barely tasting it as Bently’s eyes locked on hers.
“What made you want to become a cop?” TJ asked, seemingly oblivious to the tension between them.
Bently focused his attention back on her brother. “I wanted to protect people. I saw the need for it and figured it was a good way to help get some of the bad guys off the streets. Plus, I needed to do something to support my siblings. It was that or the military, but basic training in the military was longer and I could have been deployed. I was their guardian, so I needed to stay close to home.”
