“But it’s true.”

It was true, damn it all to hell, so I decided not to reply.

“Was there even a guy?” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered snippily. “His name is Carl and he’s currently undertaking FBI training in Virginia and likely won’t be stationed in Denver when they’re done with him. So, since I don’t intend to live anywhere but Denver, I had to make the decision to be done with him.”

Some of his anger slid out of the room and his voice was less terse (though not gentle by a long shot) when he pointed out, “Do you know that that’s the most personal thing you’ve shared with me since beer at Brother’s?”

“Fuck buddies don’t share their hopes and dreams, Zano. They f**k,” I educated him.

It was his turn to clamp his mouth shut.

He did it better than me, and this was because a muscle jumped in his jaw which I found, unfortunately at that moment, all kinds of hot.

Crap.

I let him have his moment and didn’t fill the silence.

He got over his moment and his voice was even less terse (but still not gentle) when he told me, “I’m pissed, and I don’t know what’s goin’ on with you out there, which means I’m pissed because I’m worried. But that doesn’t negate the fact that I like what we got and I want more.”

Oh God.

He wanted more.

And he was worried about me.

Fuck.

I opened my mouth to speak, but he quickly closed the short distance between us, wrapped a hand around the side of my neck and dipped his face close so I closed my mouth.

“You’re pissed too,” he told me something I knew, but this time his voice was not terse at all. It was gentle and sweet. “So don’t answer now. Not when we’re both pissed. Give it some time and think about it. And think about sharin’ with me whatever you’re up to. You got some mission with one of your posse, I might be able to help. It’s somethin’ you and Tucker gotta keep close to your vests, I get it. But think about sharing, honey. If I can help, I will.”

Okay, how did this happen? How was it that one minute we were having not very nice words and the next minute he was not only gentle and sweet, but also nice.

When someone was being nice, you couldn’t be not nice back. It was a rule.

Shit.

“Just laying down the law now, Zano. When we’re pissed at each other, you can’t switch to nice. I can’t do anything with nice. You know it, so that’s not fighting fair.”

His lips quirked. His hand at my neck slid up into the back of my hair and his other arm curved around me, pulling me close to his hard heat as he totally ignored me laying down the law, and replied, “You know what I like?” He didn’t wait for me to answer. He kept going. “I like it when you act all badass, calling me Zano when I don’t have my hands and mouth on you or my dick inside you. But when I do, all I get is sweet breathy Rens.”

I lifted my hands to his chest and was pressing, at the same time ignoring my inner thighs quivering as I pointed out, “It’s also not fair to be sexy.”

He bent his neck, and with lips to mine, he murmured, “I don’t fight fair, baby. I fight to win.”

I made certain to make note of that.

He made certain I had no retort and did this by kissing me. Then he did it by keeping my mouth engaged as he picked me up like a groom carries his bride and walked me to my bedroom.

By the time we got there, I wasn’t thinking about making a retort.

All I was thinking about was Ren.

* * * * *

Two weeks later…

Ren was moving inside me and I was loving it when his lips at my ear whispered, “This feel casual to you?”

It so didn’t.

It felt beautiful.

Perfect.

My limbs tightened around him and I closed my eyes hard.

Then I turned my head, and, my lips at his ear, I whispered back, “I need more time.”

His body stilled, unfortunately on an outward glide, and my limbs again tensed around him.

Then he started stroking, sweet, slow, gentle, and replied, “I’ll give you that, baby.”

I slid a hand up his spine and into his thick, soft hair, thinking, thank God.

* * * * *

Three weeks later…

I was sucking back coffee as Ren strode into the kitchen wearing a suit.

I stopped, giving myself a moment to appreciate the view. I grinned at him, moved into him and leaned up to kiss his jaw.

I pulled back and mumbled, “Gotta go, babe. See you tonight.”

Before I could make a move to do that, his arm hooked around my waist and he pulled me into his side. His head turned, mine stayed tipped back, and he caught my eyes.

“Been keepin’ an eye on things, and Valenzuela’s lost interest in you,” he announced.

I knew this. Darius was also keeping an eye on things.

I’d had my phone call with Darius the morning after the night of Ren’s and my fight. He had already been made aware of this situation and assured me he was keeping an eye on things and running interference with Lee. Since neither of my brothers approached to tear into me, and Darius had reported Valenzuela was focusing on other things, I knew Darius was successful in these endeavors. So I moved on.

“I know,” I told Ren.

He nodded, then said, “Even so, I also know your piece hasn’t exited the chess board.”

This was true. Darius, Brody and I had another case.

I decided against speaking.

Ren held my eyes, then thankfully changed the subject.

“You workin’ Brother’s tonight?”

I shook my head.

“Good, then I can take you out to dinner.”

My heart squeezed, but luckily I had an excuse and it was not made up.

“I can’t. Girl’s Night In at Tod and Stevie’s. Jet’s wedding planning is heating up and things are getting out of hand. Her mother and soon-to-be mother-in-law are horning in, and Jet’s freaking. One word: bunting. You may not get that because you’re a dude. I’m a chick and I don’t even get it, but according to Tod, it’s a bride’s worst nightmare. Roxie’s also deep into the planning stages of her wedding, so Tod’s decreed there are a lot of decisions to make and tonight’s the night.”

To that, he immediately asked, “You workin’ tomorrow?”

I nodded.