Carter Reed

admitted, “I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you.”
    Her hand reached out and she placed it over mine on the table. “Me too.” A third tear slipped down her cheek. “Me too, Ems.” She let out a timid smile. “Maybe we should do dinner every Friday night or something. No, wait, that’d be date night. Okay, Thursday nights. Let’s do something then.” She sat up. “Hey! Does that mean we can go to Octave sometime? That’d be amazing.”
    I laughed as my chest felt lighter. “He owns restaurants too. We can eat at any of them, any time.”
    “Oh man. Wow, Ems. That’s great.” She nodded, her lip quivering from emotion again. “That’s where you went, didn’t you? To be safe from Franco. You went to him and he protected you.”
    I nodded.
    Her eyes grew thoughtful and she sighed again. She looked defeated now. “Ben didn’t get that money from his job, did he?”
    She didn’t have to look at me. She already knew the answer.
    “I’m sorry, Emma. I’m so sorry.” Then she asked the question I couldn’t answer, one that I wanted to know, too. “Where’d they go? Where did Ben and Mallory go?”
    I didn’t know, but I hoped against hope that Mallory was okay.

    Carter came back the next night. He woke me when he slid into bed and I glanced at the clock. It was three in the morning. When his hand curved around my thigh, he tugged me close and rested his head into the crook of my neck. He pressed a kiss there and his hand explored my waist before it slid upwards. When it came to my breast, he spread his palm out and held me. His thumb rubbed back and forth over the peak as he murmured, “Japan was exhausting.”
    Desire pulsed through me. He felt my tip hardening under his ministrations. “I’m glad you’re back.”
    He moved up and gazed down at me. His eyes darkened with lust and his gaze lingered on my lips. “Me too.”
    He lowered his head and my heart fluttered, ready for his kiss and ready for the hunger that always enslaved me. When he slid inside of me, I hoped that I’d never get used to how alive he made me feel. All of it took over me. It was later as he held me close and he had tucked himself around me that I wondered if he was healing that part of me that had died.
    It was the next morning when he asked if I was alright.
    I lowered the orange juice in my hand to the counter. “Why do you ask?”
    “Because I know you. I know something’s wrong.”
    A fierce surge of love rolled through me. It was overwhelming and sudden. I gasped from the intensity and couldn’t speak for a moment. I wanted to protect him. I wanted to protect us and I would do anything it took to do that.
    His saw what was in my eyes and took me back to the bedroom. As he lowered me to the bed, he gazed down at me for a moment. His hand slid through my hair and cupped the back of my head. “Do you know much I love you?”
    The same feeling of protection washed over me again. I could only jerk my head in a nod. My throat was thick with emotion. It was suffocating me and I gasped as I pulled him down to me, “As much as I love you.”
    The next night he took me to one of his restaurants. It was one of his more exclusive ones and as he led me through to a back section, I wasn’t surprised when I saw celebrities spread through the dining area. It seemed that everyone in the restaurant emanated money. When we passed by the restrooms and three women walked out, my mouth dropped open from how beautiful they were. One called to Carter, but he ignored her and pulled me to a small set of stairs. We went to a second level that I didn’t know existed. I realized the second level was the most private area in the whole restaurant. There was only one long table for the entire level. We were able to look down over the main floor through a glass floor beneath us, but no one could see us. I remembered seeing a mirrored ceiling when we were below.
    As we sat, the chef came to greet us. Carter did the introductions, but I was surprised as I watched him talk with his employee. He wasn’t faking the warmth. He genuinely liked the man. After he left us and a server brought over a bottle of wine, I asked, “How do you know him?”
    He waited until the server had left, after filling both of our glasses. “Remember when I told you when I went to the Mauricio warehouse? That was Farve.”
    Shocked, I murmured, “You said he was drinking buddies with your dad?”
    Carter’s smile thinned. “He never approved of what my