Page 46 of Criminally Yours

“You shouldn’t have decided for me. My family always made decisions for me, but you weren’t like that. You should’ve spoken to me.”

“And if I know things now, painful things that will impact your future and test how you feel about those closest to you, should I tell you them rather than protect you?”

She rested her head against his back. They couldn’t have what they had before—he was adamant—and soon, she’d say goodbye to him forever. She couldn’t live through the pain she’d barely survived before, but what if she couldn’t survive learning whatever had made him leave? And with him gone from her life, she’d only have her family in her world again.

His secrets could destroy her only security.

He’d given her enough to help her move on. But would she always wonder why he left?

“You’re humming hard.”

“I need more time.”

“Time’s up. We’ve got a welcoming party.”

Liss and Bear stood on the front step.

“Don’t say a fucking thing,” Strike grunted at them. “Just get tweezers, because Jeff has a thorn in his paw.”

Liss grinned. “I won’t mention how you look like a hero bodyguard with your trusty stead by your side. A gladiator that’s fought an apocalyptic battle, rescuing the Queen and her Kingdom from the enemy, and now you’re ready to claim your prize.”

Millie giggled, her nose wrinkling as she shouted at Liss, “I read that book, too!”

Her lips brushed Strike’s ear, and his low growl rumbled against her chest, making her nipples harden.

Bear glanced down and back up at Strike with a smirk. “Shall I get a cold shower going, buddy?”

“Fuck off,” Strike grunted. “We’re leaving in thirty minutes.”

CHAPTER 20

Millie

Liss hugged her hard, filling her with a warmth she needed after the last hour. Millie straightened her glasses, which had slipped off-centre at the force of the embrace.

Bear and Cam helped pack the black four-by-four as they said their goodbyes and the dogs wove between them barking.

“You’ve got my number, so we can meet once you return to London. I’m there for work a couple of times a month,” Liss said, holding her stare.

Millie nodded, refusing to let Strike’s massive body and thick thighs distract her as he walked around the car.

“If you end up in Cornwall with Strike, call me and tell me how much of a dickhead he is.”

Millie giggled. She’d developed more laughter lines from the last couple of days around Liss and the lads than the past year alone.

“I heard that,” Strike growled, his deep voice making her gut spin.

“I won’t make it down the road without calling you at thisrate. He’s a massive dickhead,” Millie replied, side-eyeing his sour face.

“Oi,” Strike hollered. “I still know where your most ticklish points are, and I’m not afraid to go there. I can get a reaction out of you.”

Millie’s eyes widened, and her tongue swept across her lower lip as she stared at the muscles she’d had between her thighs. He was so fucking gorgeous.

“You still like Strike,” Liss whispered, but Millie shook her head. She couldn’t like him, because then she’d have to revisit the past. Why hadn’t she received his letter?

Strike neared her. His fingers brushed her swinging ponytail as he eased her rucksack off her back. She shivered, and Liss smiled broadly. “You do.”

“She does what?” Strike asked.