Page 49 of The Boss Omega
After Graham releases me, Silas steps into my space, one hand sliding to my waist while the other cups my jaw. His kiss is slower. Not frantic the way Graham's was, but just as consuming.
He tastes like coffee and clean soap and the faint trace of that honeyed whiskey that never seems to leave him. He doesn’t rush. Doesn’t grab. He simply takes his time, his mouth moving against mine with quiet confidence, until I’m weak-kneed all over again.
When he pulls back, his thumb brushes once across my lower lip before he lets me go. I stand there for a second, collecting myself.
Graham watches this with great interest.
Saint says nothing. He simply slides a mug across the counter toward me. It stops inches from my hand.
I glance at him before lifting it. Steam rises, carrying the scent of brown sugar and cream. I take a careful sip and close my eyes.
Brown sugar latte.
He remembered. From one text message weeks ago. He remembered.
Just like Nayda’s Café.
I take another sip, slower this time.
No. Notjustlike Nayda’s.Better.
“Thank you,” I say softly. Something shifts in his jaw. Not quite a response. Not quite nothing.
He reaches for his keys. “I’m heading to work.”
Silas clears his throat before he can make it to the door. “Before you go.”
Saint pauses but doesn’t fully turn around.
“We’ve decided someone will stay with Lark each day until her heat breaks. That means you, too.” Saint’s jaw tightens.
The warmth in my chest flips straight into embarrassment. I focus very hard on the surface of my latte.
“It isn’t necessary,” I begin, but Silas and Graham look at me in a way that makes it clear this is not up for debate. Saint doesn’t look at all.
Silas’s voice is calm, but the authority beneath it is unmistakable. “It is.”
He steps closer, resting his hand at the small of my back. “Usually it will be me. The shop’s in the backyard, so I’m here anyway. But I have plans with Lucy today and I’m meeting a new client this afternoon. So Graham will stay.”
I glance at Graham. He’s trying very hard to look composed and only moderately thrilled. He’s failing.
“I can call if something happens,” I offer.
“We don’t want that,” Silas replies gently.
They are worried about me. It’s been years since anyone other than Cammie has worried about me. So I nod.
Silas finishes his coffee, then leans down to kiss me once more. This kiss is different from the one before. Softer. Already familiar. Heat underneath it, but something steadier too.
“Call if you need anything,” he murmurs before heading out.
Saint lingers a second longer. He doesn’t look at me when he says, “There’s another in the refrigerator. It will be good over ice.” Then he follows Silas out the door.
The door clicks shut behind them. I look at the refrigerator.
I turn toward Graham, who is watching me like I’m the most fascinating thing in the room.
“What?” I ask.
