Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“No. Talking about Toronto does. Remembering it. And yes, I’ve been upset because I thought I misread the signals, so it happens.”
“You haven’t,” he assured me.
“And you’ve been coming to me at night and comforting me?”
“Yes.”
I pressed a kiss to his lips. “Thank you.”
“How does your mom feel about all this? You still being a cop?”
“She struggles with it. I tried to go back. I was assigned a new partner. But I couldn’t handle it, and the nightmares were endless. The first time I had to knock on a door about a problem, I froze. My mom was a nervous wreck all the time. They put me on desk duty, but I hated it. This posting came up, and I spoke with my superiors about it. Fewer people, less crime. Still with the dangers, but I could be a cop. I agreed to doing some desk work and some patrol. The first few weeks, I was terrified, but I slowly got back into it. More counseling helped. The people here helped. I found desk duty gave me a breather. And I like it here. Mom relaxed. I mean, she wants me to be anything but a cop, although she has accepted it. For now anyway.” I smiled at him. “Then I met you.”
He returned my smile, chucking my chin. “Irresistible, right?” he teased.
“Totally,” I responded.
He hugged me suddenly, holding me tight. “Thank God you’re okay, Hannah. You were meant to be here with me. I know it.”
I snuggled closer.
I didn’t know if he was right, but I was glad to be there with him.
For the first time in a long while, I felt as if I belonged.
Right there—with Chase.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Chase
I held Hannah close for a while, neither of us trying to move. I thought we both needed it. She was warm and soft in my arms, and her trembling stopped. I hated hearing her story, knowing how terrified she must have been. How horrific that she saw her partner die, that she almost died. The thought of that made me hold her tighter.
She didn’t object. If anything, she snuggled deeper into my chest.
“Are you always this affectionate?” she murmured. “I like it.”
I laughed quietly. “Until Charly and everyone, no. She is a big hugger. All the girls are. I think I liked being affectionate with Ellen, but not as much as I enjoy touching you.”
She lifted her head, meeting my gaze. “So you haven’t been with anyone since her?”
“No. Sex means more to me than a release. It has to be with someone I care about. I dated a few women, but I never found someone I wanted to be intimate with.” I shrugged self-consciously. “I suppose that sounds rather lame.”
“No. I don’t think it’s lame. It’s a lovely way to think. I haven’t been with anyone for a while either. Since before the incident.”
“Were there any lasting effects physically from your injuries, Hannah?”
She frowned, her hand drifting up to her chest, rubbing a spot on her sternum. “It aches sometimes. And I have a scar, but nothing major.”
I covered her hand with mine. “It is major, baby. It shows you survived something.” I paused. “Will you show me?”
She pulled aside the neck of her shirt and revealed her scar. A small, twisted round knot that rested not far above her heart. “The doctors said it was a miracle the bullet didn’t do more damage. If the trajectory had been slightly different, I would have had permanent repercussions.” She swallowed. “Or I would have died.”
I traced the scar in wonder. “Thank God, baby,” I breathed out. “Thank God.” I lifted my gaze to hers. “You were meant to be here. For me.”
Her smile was tender and sweet. “You and my mom. I think you both need me.”
I pulled her back into my arms.
“Yes.”
We needed normal. Whatever our normal was anyway. I pressed a kiss to her head. “Did you buy me sheets, Cinnamon?”
She pulled back, wiping under her eyes and offering me a smile. “Yes, I did. Did you know you had one tea towel and one dishcloth in the whole kitchen?”
I smirked. “Do you need more than one?”
She rolled her eyes, my question doing exactly what I wanted it to do. She pushed off me. “When they both are disgusting, yes. I bought new ones. And towels. Plus some other kitchen stuff. Good thing I found out you were rich. I spent a lot.”
I laughed at her drollness. “Show me.”
We spent the rest of the day doing things around the house together. We washed sheets, towels, and other items she’d purchased. Made up my new bed with the linens she’d bought me. The comforter was deep blue, gray, and black, the sheets coordinating with it. She put shams on the new pillows, which I eyed skeptically as she fluffed them and added them against the headboard.