Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
When it was time to leave, Char hugged everyone goodbye, lingering with Nita. I waited by the door, listening to their low voices, catching fragments.
“…seems different…”
“…careful…”
“…I know…”
Char came back to me, eyes a little glassy but steady. She slipped her hand into mine without asking. I let her. The drive back was quiet. Comfortable. The kind of quiet that lets thoughts breathe.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she said finally.
“Do what?”
“Answer for me.”
I kept my eyes on the road. “You looked like you needed space.”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
We stopped at a light, and I glanced over at her. Really looked at her. The strength she didn’t always see in herself. The way she was still standing, still trying.
Something settled in my chest then. It wasn’t love. I knew that. Love was heavier. Louder. More dangerous. But this—this was care. Real and solid and growing roots where I hadn’t planned to plant anything.
And that realization scared me more than I wanted to admit.
When I walked her to her door, she hesitated before going inside. Looked up at me like she was waiting for something.
I leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead instead of her mouth. Gentle. Deliberate.
“Text me when you’re in and settled,” I instructed.
She smiled. “I will.”
I watched her lock the door behind her before heading back to my car.
And for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel like I was just passing through someone else’s life.
I felt like I was standing at the edge of something that mattered.
Whether I was ready for it or not.
If someone had told me a month ago I would be sitting at a corner table in a low-lit bistro, watching my best friend flirt with Char’s older sister while Char traced idle patterns on my forearm, I would have laughed in your face.
Life didn’t usually hand me moments that felt normal.
Lamonte showed up late, which was exactly on time for him. He walked in with that easy confidence he’d carried since the Marines, scanning the room like it was second nature, then grinning when he spotted us.
“There he is,” he muttered, clapping me on the shoulder. “Hey Char.”
Char smiled, warm and open. “Good to see you out of uniform, Lamonte. Dante’s told me a lot about you.”
Lamonte shot me a look. “All lies, I’m sure.”
“Mostly,” I shared with a laugh.
Nita arrived minutes later, coat slung over her arm, presence filling the space the second she stepped in. She clocked Lamonte immediately, eyes sharp, posture straightening like she’d already decided she needed to be on her toes.
And Lamonte—God help me—noticed her too. She was a beautiful woman too. The Banks genes were strong. Both women had flawless, warm beige skin, curves that begged a man like me to enjoy. Smiles that lit up a room and personalities that definitely held their own. While Char was a little timid at times, Nita oozed confidence at all times. It was sexy as fuck. A man like me, I loved the challenge of a woman who knew herself, her worth, and didn’t back down or budge. Lamonte would love it too. He was already locking in on her.
I saw it in the way his attention shifted, subtle but immediate. The same way mine did on a call when something felt off.
Introductions were polite. Measured. Char and I exchanged a look that said this was either going to be fun or a slow-moving disaster.
Thankfully, it turned into the one of the best and easiest nights I had in years.
Dinner unfolded easily. Wine flowed. Lamonte told a story about a busted undercover operation that had gone sideways in the most ridiculous way possible, and Char laughed so hard she had to cover her mouth. Nita tried not to smile.
She failed.
I watched it all with a quiet sense of satisfaction. This—this was good. Easy. No edge to it.
Nita challenged Lamonte without being hostile, calling him out when his stories veered toward self-glorifying nonsense. Lamonte took it in stride, grinning like he enjoyed the sparring.
“So you’re really a detective,” Nita stated, eyebrow raised.
“Unfortunately,” he replied. “Means I spend more time on paperwork than actual heroics. Department is short staffed so Verdone and I run shifts on the street too. Kind of stuck on the beat right now, cases are piling up, but we are running shifts that don’t give us the best time to investigate.”
“Sounds humbling.” Nita was acutely aware of every word anyone around her shared.
“It is. Dante still outranks me in stubbornness, though.”
Char leaned into me, smiling. “I’ve noticed he can be a little hard headed.”
I shook my head. “Traitor.”
Her hand slid into mine under the table, fingers warm, familiar. It didn’t spike my pulse the way it might have once. It just felt right. Like a habit forming. And that realization hit me harder than any flash of attraction.