“Then she leaned slightly into him and said gently, “I don’t think you should be left be. I think you’re dealing with something heavy, you’re obviously doing it alone.” She threw a mitten-covered hand out to indicate the area, “You need to unload it, Chace.”Christ.Fuck.Christ.That voice, quiet, gentle, so fucking sweet saying his name, her eyes soft on him.Fuck.Better than he could have imagined.Better than he ever could have dreamed.And not his.Never to be his.Which meant finally hearing her say his name was torture.”

“<…>Days before, seconds after she told him she wanted to have breakfast with her husband and he liked hearing her say that, he liked it too fucking much, he fucked up. Then he kept fucking up. Then he kept fucking doing it. He knew it and he couldn't stop. Then, the instant she pressed her mouth to his, her soft body in his lap, overwhelmed with emotion and sharing that with him he lost control and he knew he couldn't do that. And the only way he could manage to keep control was to stay the fuck away from her, her sweet smiles, her soft voice, her brightness, that fantastic fucking body. He couldn't hold up. So he stayed the fuck away from her and spent a lot of time thinking about how to encourage her to stay the fuck away from him.<…>”

“Layne walked up to him and put both hands to his son’s neck, giving it a firm squeeze, he looked him in the eyes and whispered, “Fucked up with you, know it, but you’re a fuckin’ good kid despite that and, even though I didn’t have much to do with it, I’m proud of you.” He gave his son’s neck a gentle jerk and finished. “Love you, Bud.”

“She stared into his eyes and announced, “A good-bye kiss.”It was at that Raid stopped dead. “What?”“Raiden, the gig is up,” she declared, and Raid closed his eyes.Jesus, how could the woman be so infuriating and so fucking cute all at once?He opened his eyes and asked, “The gig is up?”She leaned into him and hissed, “Yes.”Fuck, he wanted to kiss her.He also wanted to shake her.“Baby, it’s jig,” he corrected, and her head jerked, which made that mess of hair on her head jerk, which reminded him he wanted his hands in that hair.Then elsewhere.He needed to speed this shit up.“Sorry?” she asked, sounding confused, and he looked from her hair to her eyes and saw she was, in fact, confused.Yeah. Infuriating. And fucking cute.“The jig is up, not the gig,” he told her.Her eyes narrowed. “Seriously? You’re correcting my street lingo?”“Think that street lingo was the street lingo about eight decades ago, Hanna. So now it’s just lingo.”

“You told me you’d never let me go,” shewhispered but it was an accusation.His eyes closed and the pain in them sweptover his entire face and settled there like it wouldnever, ever leave.Then he shocked her again. He dropped hisforehead to hers and kept his hands on her.Something out of her control made her continue.“You told me,” she said in a shaky voice,“you’d always take care of me.”He opened his eyes and stared into hers. Hewas so close that if she moved the lower half ofher face forward, less than an inch, she wouldhave been kissing him.“You didn’t take care of me,” she murmured,stating the obvious.”

“I could not dream a better you.” Oh my God. Oh… my… God. Did he just say that? I stared into his warm eyes. He just said that. And that was so sweet, so unexpected but so welcome, my breath arrested and all I could do was continue staring at him. He wasn’t done. “A better wife, a better queen. Not even in a dream could I create better than you.”

“He put the knuckles of his fist to the table, leaned toward Niles and spoke quietly, cuttingly, in his rough, gravelly voice.“Fucked her last night, man, and this morning. Five times. Five. It was like she hadn’t been touched in a decade. So fuckin’ sweet. Damn,” he taunted, his eyes locked on Niles. “You’ve had her, you gotta know, not enough money in the world’s worth that.”