One is a Promise(76)

Oh. “You showed her the video footage?”

“Yes, right after you left. She didn’t hesitate to drop her threats against me and take the severance.” He narrows his eyes. “I told you I’m a vindictive son of a bitch.”

He could’ve sued her for trespassing in his penthouse…naked. He could’ve destroyed her career, her livelihood. Instead, he apologized for using her and paid her to quit.

He calls himself vindictive, but his actions hint at compassion. In a depraved, fucked up way. But still, it’s compassion, and it warms me from the inside out.

I blow out of breath. “What’s with the overnight bag?”

“We’re stuck in a toxic cycle, and I’m committed to resolving that.”

“It can’t be fixed in four days.”

“I know that, but I’m not leaving your side. I assume you’d rather be anywhere but the penthouse. We can spend the week here. Or in Hawaii, Paris, Australia…”

He’s lost his ever-loving mind.

I prepare the coffee, forcing myself to think about this logically. I don’t know if I should spend the day with him, let alone a week on the other side of the world. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“We’ll stay here then.” Stepping behind me, he touches his brow to the back of my head. “I won’t leave you, Danni. Ever.”

My heart latches onto those words while my brain screams, Lies, lies, lies.

He grips my hip and pulls my backside tight against him. “You’re not quitting the casino.”

The command in his tone raises my hackles, but there’s no sense in denying it.

“I’ll stay,” I say. “Until you fuck up again.”

“I won’t.” He steps back. “Where are your light bulbs?”

I point toward the hall. “Closet. Why?”

“I’ll be right back.”

As I pour our coffees and start the bacon, the front door opens and shuts. I angle toward the kitchen window and watch Trace stride next door to Virginia’s house, carrying a light bulb.

I smile, thinking about how much hell she’s going to give him. If he wants to win her over, he’ll have to do a lot more than change her lights. But it’s a good start.

If he wants to win me over, well… He can start by proving he’s worth the risk. He needs to convince me to think of him in terms of regardless and in spite of and anyway. Because right now, he’s a huge fucking if.

He returns as I start cracking eggs in the bacon grease.

“How did it go?” I ask.

“She’s a stubborn woman.”

“That bad, huh?” I laugh.

“I have bruises on my legs from that damn cane.” He grabs the spatula from my hand and sets his open laptop on the counter. “The video is loaded. Just push play.”

As he finishes the eggs, I climb onto the counter and move the device to my lap. The video begins when he and Marlo enter his bedroom. There’s no audio, but I sense the awkwardness between them. He doesn’t look at her, his mouth moving and finger pointing absently at the couch where I found them. On screen, Marlo touches her throat, tracking his pacing steps with infatuation in her eyes.

“Jesus.” My mouth dries. “She really wanted you.”

The spatula in his hand pauses. “The attraction wasn’t mutual.”

Maybe not, but it’s still painful to see him move behind her on the video, to watch her lift her skirt and touch herself for him. He doesn’t look down, his attention flicking between his watch and the door. His slacks are lowered, but his underwear stays on. With her face buried in the cushion and her hand working between her legs, she doesn’t seem to notice he didn’t take his cock out.

Thirty seconds into the recording, I walk in. He doesn’t grip her hips until that exact moment.

He wanted to hurt me, and the impact is written all over my face on the screen.

I’ve seen enough. My hands tremble as I close the laptop and set it aside.

He slides the skillet off the burner and steps between my legs. Torment contorts his expression, and his arms fold around me. With a hand gripping my nape, the other bites into my spine, holding me so tight I feel the remorse coiling his muscles.

“I love you.” His mouth presses against my shoulder. “I love you so much it terrifies me.”

“I’m scared, too.” I let myself hug him back, thawing in the exquisite warmth of his embrace. “One day at a time, okay?”

He exhales heavily. “Okay.”

We eat side by side on the couch in the front room, sipping our coffee and lost in our thoughts.

He finishes first and leans back, watching me. “You don’t have a TV in here or your bedroom. But there’s a nice one in the basement.”