I pause the TV. “Better than you by the looks of it.” Thankfully he hasn’t come back with more bruises or other injuries, but exhaustion clothes him.
Walking towards the en suite, his hands go to his belt. “I’m gonna take a shower.”
“Do you need anything, baby?”
His eyes meet mine, and I take in his mood. Detached. Dark. On edge. “No.” The bathroom door closes behind him and I’m left wondering what happened tonight for my man to come home like this.
My natural instinct is to go to him. To comfort him. But I’ve learned that trying to comfort him when he’s like this isn’t what he needs. Time alone is, and good God, that’s the hardest thing for me to give him. My nurturing side wants to give so much more than time alone.
I finish the episode I’m watching and switch the television off. Winter takes longer than usual in the shower, and when he finally comes out, a towel wrapped around his waist, he exits the bedroom without a word.
Let him go, Birdie.
He needs time alone.
What if he doesn’t?
What if he needs me?
He doesn’t.
Stop thinking of what you need.
Think of Winter.
Ugh, shut up.
I hate you.
Winter reappears and goes into the walk-in robe. When he comes back out, he’s wearing boxer briefs. After taking his towel into the bathroom, he walks around the bed and sits on his side, his back to me.
I track his every move and keep my eyes firmly on his back, waiting for what he’ll do or say next. I’m worried that something bad has happened, and unable to leave him alone a second longer, I say, “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Winter—”
“Leave it, Birdie.” His voice is so dark and low I know that everything is not okay.
I push the covers off and pad out to the kitchen. Locating his bottle of whisky, I pour him a glass and take it and the bottle into him. He meets my gaze when I stand in front of him holding the glass out.
No words are exchanged as he takes the glass and downs the liquid. Still no words leave his mouth as he refills the glass and drinks it, too. Once it’s empty, he places it and the bottle on his bedside table before taking hold of my hips and pulling me to him.
Resting his head against my tummy and his hands on my ass, he says, “Thank you.”
I run my fingers through his hair while we stay like this for a long while. Not once, in the entire time I’ve known him, have I seen Winter like this. Not even during the times he came home from Afghanistan.
Finally, he lifts his head and looks at me. “Something’s come up for tomorrow, and as much as I wish I could move it, I can’t. I’m sorry, angel.”
Winter had planned to take tomorrow off to spend with me. I’m disappointed he can’t now, but I’ll never make him feel bad for having to take care of other stuff. He’s been amazing throughout this cycle; I couldn’t have asked for a better husband.
I cup his cheek, rubbing my thumb over his beard. “It’s good. You don’t need to apologise.” I smile. “This just means I can spend all your money on pampering myself without you knowing.”
I expect a smile from him or a smartass comment, but he doesn’t give me that. Instead, he searches my eyes and nods. “Spend it all.”
“Hey,” I say, crawling onto his lap and wrapping my arms around him, wanting to take his worries away. “Don’t beat yourself up over this. Honestly, I’m not upset. Life happens and plans are thrown out. It’s not the end of the world.”
He smooths his hand over my hair and brings his mouth to mine in a kiss that starts out slow and deepens with every passing second. He takes his time with it, his erection letting me know how much he wants me.
“Fuck,” he rasps, dragging his mouth from mine as his hands slip under my T-shirt. Lifting my shirt over my head, his gaze moves down my body to take in every inch of me. Flicking my bra undone, he removes it. He then brings his lips to my breast and takes my nipple into his mouth.
His touch lights me up even though sex is the last thing on my mind. I may not fuck him tonight, but I’ll show him how much I want him in other ways.
Dragging his mouth from my breast, I bring it back to mine and kiss him. He tastes like whisky with some anger on the side. “Baby,” I murmur in between kisses, “let it go. Be with me and let that shit go.”
His eyes question me, and I know what he’s asking. Am I up for this?
I push his boxers down, reach for his cock, and slowly slide off him to kneel. With my eyes firmly on his, I take him into my mouth, gliding my tongue over him in all the ways he loves. His deep growl of approval is all I need to know he’s getting out of his head, and I continue to suck him and work him with my hand to get him right out of it.
“Fuck,” he growls when I take his balls into my mouth. Scooping my hair into his hand, he pulls it back and grips it while I bring him closer to orgasm.
He comes down my throat, coming faster than ever. I swallow every drop even though it’s not my favourite thing to do. Tonight, I’d do anything he asked. Anything to make him feel good.
When he’s finished, I let him go and sit back. He leans forward and kisses me again. He still tastes like anger. Without saying anything, he leaves me to go into the en suite.
I stare after him, not fully recognising the man I married. I mean, he’s there for sure, but it feels like I’ve just been with a Winter I don’t really know. And when he comes back to bed, kisses me goodnight, and spoons me, still without a word, I know something serious has happened tonight; this is a new side of Winter. A side I’m not sure what to do with.
15
Winter
* * *
I exit the truck and make my way to where Javier Torres waits for me. Ransom is behind me, Hunt, behind him. We’ve also got men watching and ready to take action if Torres pulls anything.
“Winter, I see you brought many friends,” Torres says. “That was unnecessary.”
It was necessary. When I’ve got enemies that I can’t see coming at me, it’s fucking necessary. We lost a man last night; I’ll be fucked if we’ll lose another.
I pull my sunglasses off. “Let’s just get this the fuck over with so we can all leave.”
His mouth forms a thin line. “Let’s just remember who’s supplying who here. I don’t appreciate your tone.”
I work my jaw while silently waiting for him to get on with it. If I speak, I’ll say something I can’t take back, and at this point, I can’t afford to fuck this up.
Torres motions for his men to open their truck. To me, he says, “We have everything King requested.”
That’s the best piece of news I’ve heard all fucking day. The last time Torres and I spoke, he informed me he may not be able to meet our request. He gave me some bullshit story about not being sure what the cartel had shipped. I’d come here expecting to piss him off with a demand to get the rest of our coke to us fast. I didn’t believe for a second that he had no knowledge of what the cartel had shipped, and I was willing to call him on it. Now we might have half a chance of building a relationship.