He stepped around her and flipped off the stove, and as he moved the pasta to a cool burner, she realized it had been about to boil over. “Not an address. Longitude and latitude. I’m not sure what these other numbers are—I’m guessing maybe access codes or unit numbers or something—but I’m pretty sure Steve left you the exact coordinates where he stashed his evidence.”
“What?” Simone took the bracelet from his hand and stared down at the small numbers. “Are you sure?”
He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her into him. “Sweetheart, I know longitude and latitude, trust me.”
Remember how we traveled. Steve had been telling her where to look, and she hadn’t even realized it.
She glanced up, and when he grinned, she felt her own lips turn up just a touch. “We can go get it.”
His smile faded. “Not tonight. The storm’s pretty bad, and regardless, I think our safest bet is to get whatever it is in the light of day, just in case.”
“You’re worried someone could be following us.”
The same worried look she’d seen when they’d been basking in the after-sex glow in front of the fire flashed in his eyes but faded quickly. “I think it’s just safer if we play things cool. No reason to go running off in the middle of a storm if someone is watching, you know?”
She nodded. Though she didn’t like the thought of someone watching them in any way, it made sense. But part of her wanted to get whatever it was right now and get on with their life.
The smile spread back over her mouth, this time filling her with excitement and hope. Real hope. She slid her hands up his shoulders and around his neck. “You know what this means, don’t you? It means this can finally be over.”
She rose up on her toes and kissed him, and he held her tight, kissing her back with the same passion. Burying her face in his neck, she drew in a whiff of his masculine scent and fingered the bracelet behind his head. She’d had it all this time, the key to everything, and hadn’t even known.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “It means it’ll finally be over.” He was silent for a moment, then added, “You know, there’s still something I need to tell you.”
And there was still something she needed to tell him too. Or, rather, ask.
She drew back and looked up at him. And where there had been fear before, now there was only love. “Will you marry me?”
“Wh-what?”
She smiled, because it wasn’t rejection she heard in his voice but surprise. The sweetest kind of surprise. “Marry me. As in, for better or worse, though I think we’ve had enough worse.”
He continued to stare at her with that disbelieving expression, and her heart filled. She brushed her fingers over the stubble on his jaw. “I love you. So does Shannon. And we both need you. I was stupid to let you go once. I’m not doing it again, so if you need more time or you’re not sure just yet, I can wait. But I don’t want to. I want everything we had together before, but more. I want you to be Shannon’s father. But mostly…I just want you. For always.”
For a heartbeat, he didn’t move, didn’t say anything, and a tiny shiver of doubt crept in. And then he caught her face in both his hands and pulled her mouth toward his, and as his tongue swept over hers and his greedy fingers pulled her closer, she knew she had her answer.
“Simone…” He nipped at her bottom lip, and all that heat she thought they’d sated between them earlier came flooding back. His hands drifted down her back, and then he was lifting her, turning her, sweeping her out of the kitchen.
He made it as far as the table and set her on the surface, then pulled his mouth from hers and looked down at her with every bit of love she’d hoped to see in his eyes. “Oh my God.”
She laughed and reached for him. “Is that a yes?”
His eyes went all soft and dreamy, the food he’d asked for earlier clearly forgotten. “Yes, God, yes. If you still want me when all this is over, that is.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her kiss. “I will. Guaranteed. I will always want only you.”
“Ah, sweetheart. Same here. Always.”
Smiling, she kissed the corner of his mouth and freed the button on his jeans once more. “Show me. Again. Right now.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Simone stretched beneath Mitch, her foot sliding between his on the crisp white sheets. Outside, the storm had died down to a gentle pitter-patter of rain against the roof, and the wind was nothing but a rustle here and there. He grunted and moved his head against her chest, his chestnut hair falling over her breast, his eyes still closed in deep sleep.
Smiling, she sifted her fingers through his silky locks, loving the way the tendrils curled around her hand, enjoying the way he was draped half over her on the bed in the cozy little house, his legs intertwined with hers, his arms wrapped around her as if he never wanted to let her go. They’d made love in the kitchen, refueled with cold pasta, then made it to the bed, where they’d started all over again. He hadn’t been able to keep his hands off her, and she hadn’t been able to stop touching him either. And as she ran her fingers down his neck and across the relaxed muscles in his shoulders for the hundredth time, she decided she could get very used to this. For the first time in…she couldn’t remember how long…she wasn’t worried about tomorrow or next week or even next year, because whatever the future brought, she knew she could face it, with Mitch.
A mixture of warmth and happiness formed a cocoon around her heart. She sighed, looked down at him, and smiled at the way his long lashes formed spiky crescent shapes against his tanned skin. They hadn’t talked about when they were going to go to the storage unit. Or what they were going to do with the evidence Steve had collected. And she wouldn’t even know what they could do until she saw it, but right now she was happy not worrying about it. She was getting married. Again. To a man who stole her breath every time she looked at him. To the love of her life in every possible way.
Her fingers drifted down his shoulder and across his arm, and as she reached for his hand, wanting to lace her fingers with his, she realized his watch, the one he always wore and never took off, was loose against his wrist.
She slowly rolled his hand over so she could relatch the clasp she’d obviously hit when she’d been frantic to get him naked. Her fingers grazed the metal. The hook slipped free before she could catch it, and the watch fell against the sheet at her side.
And the world tipped right out from under her.
No, not a campfire burn like he’d told her. A brand. Three daggers, one pointing down, two angled outward to form a cross, with a circle above containing two numbers and one letter. A brand she’d seen before. On that phone screen Ryan had shown her.
She closed her eyes, opened them again, sure her mind was playing tricks on her, only the mark was still there. Small enough to be covered by a watchband, but exactly like the one Ryan claimed her husband once had.
Mitch was a Cypher? No. He couldn’t be. That wasn’t possible. He hadn’t once mentioned any knowledge of or affiliation with the group. When Ryan had been telling her all about Steve’s membership in the society, he’d stood in that kitchen and hadn’t said a word. If he’d been one of them, he would have—
Her blood ran cold, and the air felt like it was sucked right out of her lungs.
If he’d been one of them, he wouldn’t have said a word. He’d have done exactly what he did. Kept his mouth shut. Used her to find out where Steve’s evidence was hidden. Then take it—and her—to whoever was after her.
Her pulse turned to a flurry in her veins, and sweat broke out all over her skin, the flight response as strong as it had ever been. Slowly so she wouldn’t wake him, she maneuvered her way out from under his body and slithered to the floor. He startled, and she froze, waiting for him to sit straight up and ask her what the hell she was doing, but he only grunted and shifted his head the other way on the mattress, then fell back to sleep.