Page 96 of Cold Hard Cash

“Keep breathing,” Cold ordered and continued to hold Jimmy tight, rubbing his back and shoulders, not letting up for a moment.

Concentrating on that perfectly smooth voice, Jimmy’s pulse climbed down out of heart attack territory. It was amazing how quickly Cold could pull him out of the darkness, and he sighed contentedly at the tender affections.

“Better?” Cold soothed after a few long beats of silence, resting his cheek against Jimmy’s hair.

“Yes.” Jimmy relaxed as the anxiety finally receded.

“Jules said he told you and Dario to stay back,” Cold said firmly, his tone carrying a hint of reprimand.

“He did, but then we heard the shots. I guess… We got scared. Dario thought we could get to his car.”

Cold’s hand pressed at the small of Jimmy’s back. “Foolish.”

“I know,” Jimmy confessed. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“Obviously.”

“Where’s Jules now?” Jimmy asked. “He… he saved me too. Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. Keeping a low profile.” Cold slid his fingers along Jimmy’s spine. “At least until the heat dies down.”

“Did they really trash my place?”

“The Luchesis? Yes. Probably won’t be able to tell much difference, all things considered.”

“Why, because my apartment is already so shitty?” Jimmy snorted, grateful for the splash of levity. “Very funny.”

Cold smirked, pleased with himself at his little joke.

“So. I’m really going to be staying here? With you?” Jimmy peered curiously at Cold, hoping he didn’t sound as excited as he felt. “For how long?”

“Until it’s safe.” Cold’s eyes lingered on Jimmy’s lips.

“Worried about me?”

“You still have quite a debt to work off.”

“Mm, I really do.” Jimmy knew Cold was being facetious, but it would be nice to hear one genuine statement of endearment.

“I’ll have your things brought over. Anything in particular you need?”

“My mom’s jewelry,” Jimmy replied immediately. Cold arched a brow at that, so Jimmy clarified, “Maybe I don’t need it exactly, but… I want it here. And there’s a shoebox under my bed full of pictures. That too. Please.”

“Done.”

“It’s that ring, isn’t it? They were looking for the ring. Vincenzo saw me wearing it at the club. He asked me about it… Before, you know, before he tried to shoot me.”

Cold’s face hardened. “What of it?”

“You said you’d tell me,” Jimmy reminded him. He trusted Cold, he did, but he had to know what was going on.

Cold said nothing.

Jimmy reached up, resting his hand on Cold’s cheek. “Rod?”

Cold grabbed Jimmy’s wrist and deftly pinned it above his head.

Jimmy gasped, surprised by the spike of lust that rushed through him. He bit his lip and gazed hungrily up at Cold.