This might be the only time I had with Owen and I was going to enjoy every bit of it. This beautiful, broken man, who told me the most beautiful things. The man that had taken a bullet for me and didn’t even want my thanks. But I could thank him in other ways.
As I neared the peak I let my head fall back and closed my eyes. I wanted to remember this. All of it. Even the smell of mothballs.
He clutched my hips at the same time that I fell over the edge, his body slamming into mine as he found his finish. I collapsed against his chest, my body still rocked with aftershocks of pleasure.
His hands stroked my back and hair.
“Thank you.” He pressed his lips to my temple.
“You don’t have to thank me, Owen. You never have to thank me.” I repeated his words against his shoulder.
“I’ll try to remember that next time.” Humor laced his words and I smiled even though he couldn’t see it.
“You do that.” I gathered my strength and rolled to the side so I wasn’t squishing him.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and took a minute to clean himself off. I watched as his naked rear walked across the room to grab a towel from a small cabinet I hadn’t noticed on the far wall. He brought it back to me and straightened the blanket. When I lay back down, I felt sated and happy.
Which was an unfamiliar feeling after the days filled with anxiety. He slid in beside me and pushed some of the hair out of my face.
“I think I’m starting to remember why it’s nice to wake up next to someone.” His face was relaxed, a content smile curling his lips.
“Only when they aren’t trying to kill you, of course.”
“I dunno, love. I wanted you so bad I thought it might kill me.”
Heat flooded my cheeks and I rolled my eyes. “Geez. You’re mushy.”
“I’ve learned a lot of new things about myself in the last few days.” He picked up a lock of my hair and rubbed it between his fingers.
“Like what?” Curiosity had me watching his face carefully.
“Apparently I’m a sucker for brunettes with big blue eyes and an American accent.” His gaze was thoughtful, his eyes distant as he really contemplated it. “I’ve been all over the world, seen lots of things, met so many different people, but I wasn’t really living. Like you, I was just existing. Doing the only thing I thought I was capable of.”
“That’s pretty deep.” I tilted my head. “Between the running and the gun fights, when did you have time to come to that conclusion?”
“While I pretended to be busy doing things on the internet in Oxford.” He tugged my hair gently. “I also decided that I really hate soup.”
I laughed loudly and covered my mouth with the back of my hand.
“No, really. I hate soup. Hate it. If I never eat another bowl of soup again, it would still be too soon.” His smile was infectious. “I do, however, really like your smile.”
“Yours isn’t so bad either.”
I reached up and touched the bandage on his shoulder. We’d knocked it askew. “Did we hurt this?”
“I’m fine.” Amusement rippled across his face.
“You think we can just hide in here for a few days and pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist?” I leaned back on the pillow.
“I’d settle for a few more hours, but I doubt we can spare that. You’ll always be running if we don’t deal with Maria. You deserve a life better than that.” He settled down next to me and I snuggled up against his chest.
I must have drifted off, because the next thing I knew someone was pounding on the bedroom door. I jerked awake and clutched the blanket to me.
“Put your clothes on and come downstairs. I’ve got information.” Mavis hollered. She pounded on the door a couple more times for good measure before I heard the clap of her high heels on the stairs.
MAVIS HAD A laptop set on the kitchen table. Video footage of a woman getting into a black car played across the screen.
“You can’t see her face,” I said. “But that doesn’t look like the same Maria that I met for the hit on Song.”
Ava shook her head. “I think I would have remembered meeting someone like her.”
“She might have been traveling incognito.” Mavis sat back in her chair and cupped her tea with both hands.
“No, people with that kind of money have a way about them. It’s not something they put on and take off like a jacket.” She leaned closer to the screen. “If she was wearing a tattered wizard cloak, she would still hold herself differently. That isn’t a humble woman, that’s a woman that fought for her success, and won’t let anyone forget it.”
“You get all that from ten seconds of a black and white security clip?” Mavis looked Ava over the rim of her tea.
“Look at the way she expects people to be where they’re supposed to be. She never breaks stride when heading for a door; she knows someone will open it in time. She knows everyone will be doing their jobs, because they can’t afford not to. Anyone higher up in her business would be kept on a short leash, though. She’d want to make sure they didn’t forget who was in charge.”
I looked at Ava in surprise. I knew she was insightful, but hadn’t realized just how much she picked up on.
“Organization, not business.” Mavis sat forward. “She has her hands in anything that will make her money. It’s broken up and scattered amongst her people, but it all goes back to her. Her biggest money makers are the casinos and the girls, but she also dabbles in fine art.”