7

He shoved it into his pocket and nodded. “For now.”

“What did you give him?”

“My name, address, and date of birth. He can work for the rest.”

“You didn’t have to do that, Emmy,” I assured her, pushing aside the memories of his remarks yesterday about vetting her.

“It’s fine. He takes his job seriously.”

I cleared my throat. “Sorry about that.”

“He cares about you.”

“Yeah, he is a good friend, and I’d be lost without him.”

“Yet, you came here alone?”

“I wanted to see you, and I thought he might make you uncomfortable.”

I wasn’t sure how to tell her the actual truth. I wanted to spend a little time with her, alone, as me. Bentley, the man. Not the person who needed protection. Just me.

“It’s fine, Rigid. I’m good with it.”

I met her gaze, her eyes bright in the light. They were warm, intelligent, gentle, and so dark they looked like the richest espresso you would sip in the early morning hours; the kind that brought you to life.

Strangely, that was how I felt when I sat across from her