Page 74 of Power Play

“Night.” I swipe the baby monitor off the table, tucking it into my pocket. Turning to my wife, I offer her my hand. “Ready?”

Riley nods, her cheeks a pretty pink. She pushes past me, ignoring my hand, and heads for the stairs, my eyes falling to her ass and legs as she walks.

“You’re so far gone for her,” Cari murmurs.

“Oh, yeah. Totally,” I whisper back.

“Does she know?”

“She will soon enough.”

My sister makes a face. “Gross. At least wait until I’m out of the house.”

Letting out a short laugh, I shake my head and follow Riley up the stairs. Her door is closed, the light on underneath, so I head to my room and start stripping out of my suit. I have enough foresight to hang it up and toss my shirt into the dirty hamper.

Crawling into bed, I pick up the book on my nightstand. The psychological thriller Mitchell recommended has kept me up reading the last few nights. It’s the third book by this author I’ve read in two weeks, and even though it gets my heart racing with the twists and turns, a pleasant sense of relaxation floods my system.

After a few chapters, my eyes grow heavy, and I set the book aside and turn out the lights. Burrowing under my covers, I pull the blankets up to my chest and try to get comfortable.

A quiet knock raps on my door, and I almost think I’ve imagined it until a second one sounds a few moments later.

“Come in,” I call, and the door creaks open.

“Hey,” Riley says, shrouded in the darkness.

“What’s up?” My voice cracks, and I cough to cover it.

“I can’t sleep. Can I…” Her swallow echoes through the room. “Can I stay in here?”

“Of course.” I pull back the covers and she rounds the bed, climbing onto the mattress and settling beside me.

Her body is stiff, tension rolling off her in waves.

“C’mere,” I murmur, tugging her into me. She’s wearing an oversized T-shirt—I think it’s one of mine—and a pair of sweats, covered from head to toe. There is nothing provocative about her outfit, and yet it is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. I wrap my arm around her waist and curl my body around hers. “Relax. You’re safe with me.”

“I’m not so sure.” Her words are quiet in the room’s stillness, and I freeze.

Propping myself up on my elbow, I stare down at her. “Do you really think I’d hurt you?”

Her bright blue eyes are dark from the shadows let in by the blinds. “Not violently.”

A burning sensation rips through my tightening throat. “I would never lay a hand on you. I swear.”

After all this, she still thinks the worst of me. She still thinks I’m capable of that. My stomach turns, and I exhale heavily.

Her voice is quiet when she explains, “I know you wouldn’t hurt me physically. But that doesn’t mean you don’t have the power to destroy my heart.”

“I won’t.” My own heart pounds at the thought. I would never do that to her.

“You can’t promise me that,” she mumbles. “You can’t control it. Nobody can.”

“I will do my best to make sure it doesn’t happen. I don’t want to hurt you in any way. I’d rather take a thousand cross-checks to the ribs than do that.”

She cringes. “Okay, ouch. I know you don’t want to. But⁠—”

“All I want to do is love you.” The words fall off my lips, and even though I know I should walk it back, I don’t want to.

Her mouth drops open. “Love?”