J. Kenner - Heated

“Then don’t live it,” he said. “Quit.”

“You know better than that. It’s who I am. You say you love me, and I know it’s true. But, Tyler, you see me better than anyone, so you know I’m right. You know this is who I am.”

I managed a smile, thin and a little sad.

“That’s why I can’t ask you to quit, either. You are the man you are—I’m not in love with some polished version of you. And I am in love with you. Desperately. Hopelessly.”

“You’re breaking my heart, Sloane. Before you, I never thought it was possible.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, as a tear traced down my cheek. “But I have to leave. I have to go home.”

Before I could stop him, he drew me close and pressed his lips to mine, soft yet firm. Possessive, yet tender.

When he drew back, I saw the familiar fire in those ice blue eyes. “I won’t try to change your mind. Not right now, anyway. But I want to say something, and I want you to listen. To really hear me. Okay?”

I nodded.

“You’re right,” he said. “I do see you. I see everything about you. The good, the bad, the courageous, the bold. I see a woman who fights for what’s right. And, sweetheart you don’t need a badge to do that.”

He lifted my hand and pressed a gentle kiss to my palm. “This may be goodbye,” he said. “But it isn’t the end.”

“Isn’t she the most beautiful thing ever?” Candy said, cuddling her new baby daughter close. “My sweet little Brianna.”

“She’s amazing,” I said sincerely, and beside me Amy nodded agreement, still a bit shaky, but doing well after more than a week of recovery.

“I didn’t think I’d get to meet you,” Amy said, bending over to stroke the infant’s head. She turned to look at me, and I saw the gratitude in her eyes, now brimming with tears.

“Do you want to hold her?” Candy asked Amy.

“Oh, yes.”

“I’ll get a chair,” I said, then scooted one of the uncomfortable blue guest chairs closer to the bed.

Amy took the baby, holding her as if she were glass, then started to softly sing. I watched them, then turned to smile at Candy. She gestured me over, and I moved to sit carefully on the side of her bed.

“And how are you feeling, Mommy?”

“Good. Tired. Although this one gave me less trouble than Sam.”

“Is he excited about having a little sister?”

“Over the moon. Jim took him out to the store,” she added, referring to the bartender she’d married, who was the love of her life. “Gonna buy little sis a stuffed rabbit. And maybe something for himself, too,” she added with a wink.

“I’m glad,” I said, feeling foolishly sentimental. And trying very hard not to think of Tyler. Considering he seemed to be in my mind constantly, that wasn’t an easy task.

“So here I am, in this comfy bed with a television and my new baby and friends and people to wait on me. I’m doing fine,” Candy said. “How are you doing?”

“Great,” I said, then conjured a perky smile.

“She misses Tyler,” Amy said, and I shot her a withering look. She just smiled. “Well, you do. When we drove back here after they let me out of the hospital, he saw us off. It was sappily romantic.”

Not romantic, I thought. Torture.

I’d walked away. I’d left him behind. And though I’d been absolutely certain that was the right thing to do, now I was haunted by regret and memory, loneliness and loss.

I moved to Candy and gave her and the baby quick kisses. “I’ll come back tomorrow, okay? I have to run. I’m still on duty.”

That was a lie—I actually had the rest of the day off—but I wanted to get out of there. I loved Candy, but I needed to be alone.

I’d been spending a lot of time alone. Alone and quiet, moving like a ghost through my own life. A life I used to love, but now it just seemed empty.

My apartment seemed empty, too, I thought a half hour later as I approached my familiar blue door. I sighed, then slid the key into the lock. Maybe I should get a hamster. Just so there was some life to come home to.

I started to push the door open—and heard the sharp snap of a drawer being shut.

Shit.

Immediately, I was on alert. I’d come off duty before I went to see Candy, and I was still wearing my weapon harness under my light linen jacket. I reached for my Glock, immediately more at ease with its weight in my hand.

I checked my perimeter, then went in low—and found myself facing Tyler.

A thousand emotions battered me—joy, confusion, even anger because I was trying so hard to get past him, and here he was making me stumble.

Most of all, I felt love.

I wanted to run to him and toss my arms around him. I wanted to cover him with kisses. I wanted to run my hands over every inch of him simply to prove to myself that he was real.

I did none of that. Instead, I calmly put my gun on the entryway table, then looked at him. “Dammit, Tyler, I could have shot you. You can’t just break into people’s apartments.”

“I was hardly going to wait in the hall,” he said, his voice perfectly reasonable, though there was amusement dancing in his eyes.

He crossed the distance to me in three long strides, then stood just inches from me. “I missed you,” he said, and the power of those words seemed to hum between us. Dear god, I missed him, too. Missed the way he looked at me. The way we fit together.

I looked down at the floor. “Don’t,” I said. “You’re not making this easier.”

“I’m not trying to,” he said. “I told you it wasn’t over.”

I stood there, my heart twisting painfully, and tried unsuccessfully to find words.

“I brought you something,” he said, then pulled a small flat box out of his jacket pocket. Out of reflex, I reached for it, only to be stymied when he pulled it back. “It’s contingent,” he said.

“On what?”

“On you agreeing to my proposition.”

“Tyler …”

“I want you, Sloane. And we both know that I get what I want.”

I shook my head. “Please, I can’t do this again. It’s too hard to walk away from you.”

“Then don’t.”

I felt the tears prick at my eyes. Damn him—damn him for making this harder than it had to be.

“I had a long talk with Evan and Cole about BAS, and we’re going legitimate. Well,” he amended with a lift of his shoulder. “We’re spinning off a new company. Private investigations. Very specialized. There are a lot of people who get screwed by the system. Emily wouldn’t have had anyone to stand for her if it wasn’t for you. Amy wouldn’t have met her god child if it wasn’t for you.”

I licked my lips, letting the truth of what he was saying roll over the need in my heart.

“You can be who you are, Sloane. You just don’t have to be it with a badge. Of course, if you need a badge …” He trailed off as he handed me the box.

I opened it, and nestled among pink tissue paper I found a shiny silver sheriff’s star, and for the first time in a long time, laughter bubbled out of me.

“I told you once I would always give you what you need. Please, Sloane, I think we both need this. Will you come to work with us? Will you stay with me?”

I looked at the badge, then looked at the man I loved. The man who knew me so intimately and loved me so completely.

The man who’d come to me, all sexy and gorgeous and charming and brilliant and handed me not only a solution but a little silver star.

How could I say no to that?

I couldn’t.

And so I did what I had to do. I threw myself in his arms and kissed him.

When I broke the kiss, he smiled down at me.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes,” I said, my heart full to bursting. “It is.”

I kissed him again, and this time the kiss was deep and long. A kiss celebrating things lost and found again. A kiss that held the past and the promise of the future.

A kiss that stole my breath and made my knees go weak.

“Tyler,” I whispered. “If you don’t make love to me right now, I just might have to arrest you.”

He laughed. “In that case, Detective …” he trailed off as he very efficiently peeled me out of my clothes. “Dear god, Sloane, I’ve missed you,” he said as his hands roamed every inch of me.

“Yes,” I said, because I couldn’t manage anything more than that simple thought. One single word that somehow expressed everything that had been missing in me since I’d walked away, and everything I’d found in Tyler.

He led me to my bed, then gently laid me down and covered his body with mine. Our kisses were wild and claiming, his hands were gentle but demanding.

“Mine,” he whispered as his hands stroked me, exploring and teasing.

“Yes,” I answered, arching up to meet his touch. I was hot and ready and when he brushed his thumb over my lower lip, I drew it in, suckling him until he groaned with soul-deep satisfaction.

“In me,” I said. “I need you inside me. I need to feel us together. Please, Tyler. Please, now.”

“I love you, Sloane,” he said as I spread my legs wider and he thrust inside me. “I love you,” he repeated, as we pistoned together, deeper and faster, the sweet storm rising higher and raging harder. “For now,” he said, his voice right on the edge. “For always,” he said, and exploded inside me.

My own release was like the crescendo of a symphony, rising up and up, and then higher still until there was no where left to go and there was no choice but to burst free in color and light and music.

He held me tight while I came back to myself, and I curled against him. “I love you, Tyler,” I said. “I always will.”