Page 19 of Glorious Sinner

I didn’t know what to make of the change in him, was struggling to get my head around it. The way he looked at me, touched me, the things he said…

He was more like the Tomas I’d known before, before everything. Yeah, he was still miles away from that boy. He’d had a wall up even then. But I wondered if I’d ever see that side of him again. See him laugh like he used to with my dad. If I’d ever see him without the hard exterior. He used to hum while he carried and measured out lumber, and while he banged nails.

I had seen him drop his guard once since then: when he found me that night on the bathroom floor. There’d been nothing between us then, no barriers, no masks. There’d only been him and me.

“I’ve got you, Stephanie, I’ve got you now,” Tomas said, lifting me carefully in his arms.

My eyes wouldn’t open. My mouth wouldn’t work.

“Oh fuck, Angel.”

His lips gently brushed my temple.

“He’s never hurting you again. I’ll make sure he never hurts you again…”

The door swung open and Tomas walked in carrying two dinner plates, snapping me from the memory—a place I sure as hell didn’t want to be.

The first thing I noticed was that he wasn’t in his suit anymore and his hair looked damp. An image of him naked in the shower flashed through my mind before I could stop it. My mouth went dry, and I couldn’t help but eat up the sight of him.

He was wearing jeans that were faded and hung low on his hips, and a navy-blue T-shirt that clung to his chest and strained around his biceps. My pulse started fluttering like crazy. This was how he used to dress. And, yep, he’d always worn a pair of jeans well.

Who was I kidding? He wore everything well.

He handed me a plate and I looked down at it. “Did you make this?”

He smirked. “What do you think?”

“I think you know how to reheat food.”

He chuckled, the sound rough and sexy and unexpected. It made me kind of giddy.

“Yep. And that’s as far as my culinary skills stretch.”

He sat down at the other end of the couch, putting a whole cushion width between us. Then he grabbed the remote, flicked on the TV, sat back, and started eating.

Some random show was on, but I couldn’t help but peek at him. His jaw was strong and dusted with a day’s growth. And his lips…

I forced myself to look away, to watch the TV.

This lasted only a few minutes before my gaze slid back to him, like it was being drawn by a magnet. This time to his hands and those long, scarred fingers. They were beautiful to me, made me feel safe. They made me feel a lot of things. What would they feel like moving over my bare skin?

He turned to me then, that intensity back in his eyes. “Good?” he said, tilting his head, glancing at my plate.

I hadn’t tried it yet. “Yep,” I lied.

He smiled and it was wicked and beautiful and teasing.

I quickly put some food on my fork, put it in my mouth, and stared unseeing at the TV again. Busted. My face got hot.

We sat in silence, eating our dinner, and I finally gathered enough courage to ask the question that’d been on my mind all day. “Any sign of Ryan?”

He leaned forward, putting his empty plate on the coffee table. “No. But it’s only a matter of time.”

I dipped my chin, staring down at my plate.

“I promise you, Stephanie, I will find him.”

I glanced up. “I know you will.”