Page 72 of The Fix Is In (Torus Intercession 4)
“My life is a bit of a mind fuck at the moment,” he assured me.
“Yeah, it is,” I agreed, tipping my head forward so he’d move out of the crowd. “Yesterday you found out that the picture you took of a ghost in a crumbling cabin in the woods was actually not what you thought it was at all.”
“Yes,” he said, his breath hitching. “First we discovered that Caleb Harrison was a missing doctoral student, and then he became instead a missing, and presumed dead, DEA agent.”
Hearing the panic in his voice, I led us off to the side of the terminal, next to a wall, and dropped both duffels before taking his face in my hands. “You can lose it when you get to my house,” I informed him. “But right now we need to focus on getting out of this airport.”
He nodded, and I lifted his chin and bent and kissed him. It was gentle but quick, just me letting him know I was his person and I was there.
“Do you have any idea how much I adore you after only two short days?” he asked when I eased back, staring up at me like the sun.
I grinned at him. “Could be I feel the same.”
He caught his breath. “I need a––oh, yes, that,” he moaned as I wrapped him in my arms. “Could you hold me tighter?”
“I don’t wanna hurt you,” I husked into his shoulder.
“No,” he said, exhaling. “You could never. It’s not in you.”
“I’m a big guy.”
“You are,” he agreed, “and tender and considerate, but you need to stop being careful and simply treat me as though I belong to you.”
“But you––”
“Please, Shaw,” he begged me. “Treat me like I’m yours.”
But I was terrified because it was a slippery slope. Treating him like he was mine was dangerous and not at all good for my heart. If I got used to him being here… what happened when he went home?
In my head, when I’d imagined my leaving, when I envisioned driving out of Rune, I knew I would miss him when we said our goodbyes. Even after just a day, the idea of not seeing Benjamin Grace every morning when I woke up had become painful. And I knew it was ridiculous, no one got attached that fast, but I couldn’t remember meeting anyone with a better heart, who saw beauty and promise in the smallest things, and who had such a great capacity for joy. Having Benji in my life would be a blessing; there was no doubt about that. But me being on a job in a different town made it easier to cut ties because it wasn’t my place, my environment, or my home. I could go, and even though it would hurt, I would get over it because being there was like being on vacation. It wasn’t real life.
But now it was.
Everything had changed, and only right at that moment, holding Benji, did I understand the magnitude of my mistake.
I’d brought him home. Without thought, on an impulse, I whisked him out of his life and right into mine.
I brought him to Chicago. I brought him into my honest, real, often messy existence. He was now where my family was, where my friends were, where my job was. He was where I lived and breathed and was myself. He would know me, the real me, because he’d see everything that made me… me. Hours ago when I’d made the offer, it felt right. At the moment, with the reality fast sinking in, I wasn’t so sure.
The concern was that I was different when out on a job. I was nicer, softer, quieter, very much not me. I was practical and logical and, more than anything, detached. Nothing got under my skin. And while the argument could be made that Benji was already way under my skin, he still hadn’t seen me comfortable and not on guard.
But now I was home, where I didn’t worry about saying the wrong thing or doing the wrong thing. Benji was about to see the real me, scars and all, and what if he didn’t like what he saw? More importantly, if he did like who I really was, how in the world was I going to let him go?
“Oh, baby, you’re so scared,” Benji ground out, his voice hoarse and low, staring up at me with those big beautiful eyes of his, pinning me with his gaze.
“Yes,” I admitted, my own voice thick with feeling. “I don’t––” I shook my head. “––it’s not like me to break the wall between client and bodyguard, and invite someone into my life.”
“Which should perhaps tell you something.”
I took a breath. “If I was smart, I would ask one of the other guys to put you up at––”
“Don’t you dare even consider it,” he said, chuckling, lifting up on his toes, reaching for me, arms open.
