Page 138 of Claimed At First Sight

I focus on the alley. The snow. The dumpsters. Anything except the warmth spreading through my chest at the sight of Maximo crouched beside my sister, taking care of an injured stray because it matters to Ari.

A second later he moves closer, though he’s not touching me.

He’s just there, solid and steady.

For reasons I refuse to examine, I want to let myself lean back against him.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Maximo

Mia appears to be on the verge of tears. Her posture is rigid, as if she’s trying to hold herself together.

The sight unsettles me.

A moment ago she wanted to debate with me about tactical cat retrieval operations. Now she’s standing in front of me with her back turned, staring at the alley as though she’s suddenly developed a passionate interest in dumpsters and dirty snow.

“Hey, little rebel,” I say, keeping my voice low. “What’s going on?”

She shakes her head, keeping her chin tucked down.

My chest tightens.

“Mia.”

She shakes her head again. I need to see her face.

I place a hand on her shoulder and gently turn her toward me. She’s staring at my coat, her lower lip trembling. Cupping her chin, I tilt her face until she has no choice but to look at me.

“Talk to me,” I say softly.

She hesitates, searching my face as though weighing whether to answer.

I force the edge from my expression. The last thing I want is for her to retreat from me.

“I know it’s silly,” she says finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “Because nothing bad happened.”

Her fingers twist together between us.

“But I can’t stop thinking about what could have happened. What if I’d lost Ari? What if the Romero thugs had taken her?”

A sharp hitch catches in her throat. She breaks off, blinking hard.

Fuck. The sight of her fighting tears does something ugly to me.

“I could never forgive myself,” she whispers. “My sisters are under my care. I’m responsible for them.”

Fear lingers behind her eyes and she’s carrying guilt for something that never even happened.

Every instinct I possess demands that I fix this, even though there’s nothing left to fix. So how do I make it better?

A loose strand of dark hair has fallen across her cheek. I brush it back behind her ear without thinking.

“Mia.”

Her gaze lifts to mine. There’s so much vulnerability in her eyes that it catches me off guard. This woman is usually all fire and sharp-tongued defiance.

Seeing her like this seems wrong.