“Live with as in…not get a hotel room?” Clarification felt essential at the moment.

He rolled his eyes. “Yes.”

“Is this because of the articles?”

A series of news articles and blog posts had popped up earlier that week with unnamed sources hinting that Alessandra Ballard had attacked the good senator in the hospital after the accident. So far, neither Camille nor Warren had commented on the speculation.

“Vorhees is a factor,” Brick admitted. “But not the only one. Not even the most important one.”

“What’s the most important one?” A lot was riding on his answer.

“I can’t stand to be any farther from you than I have been. So unless you want to rent a room from a next-door neighbor, I want you home with me. Every night.”

She couldn’t process this fast enough. He had shifted gears on her. He’d gone from slow and steady and punched it into overdrive without any warning.

“Your studio is there. I’m there. Magnus loves you. I love you. What the hell are we waiting for?”

Remi rubbed a hand over her chest. “This feels kind of sudden.”

On a chuckle, he dropped his forehead to hers. “Baby, it’s been almost fifteen years.”

“Are you sure?” she pressed. Too often, the man chose “the right thing” over the thing he wanted.

“Say, yes, Remi,” he growled.

She could see it. Planting roots, for the next few weeks at least. They could test the waters. Together.

“Okay. Yes.”

“Good girl.” He looked smug in his victory, and it made her happy to know she’d made him happy. “Now, let’s get the rest of your stuff moved.”

She squealed with delight when he tossed her over his shoulder and carried her into the sunshine and across the street.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Brick’s cell phone rang, provoking a frustrated growl. He pulled back from Remi’s mouth, leaving her breathless, perched on the kitchen counter. His expression hardened when he glanced at the screen.

“It’s my dad. I need to take this.”

“Your dad?” She blinked. As far as she had known, Brick’s relationship with his father was non-existent.

“He’s been keeping an eye on Vorhees for me when he’s in Chicago.”

The man had repaired a relationship with his estranged father to help keep her friend safe. Overwhelmed and stupidly in love, she grabbed Brick by the shirt and kissed him hard. “I love you.”

He groaned and took a step back. “Finish this when I get back from my shift?”

They’d never be finished exploring each other, tasting each other. Devouring each other.

She nodded and blew him another kiss.

He winked, mouthed “behave,” and walked out, leaving her swooning after him.

She was still in mid-swoon when her own phone rang a few minutes later.

“Raj,” she said, answering the video call. “What can I do for my favorite agent?”

“Are you drunk?” He looked both over-the-top and dapper in a crushed velvet sport coat in amethyst.

“Nope. Just happy,” she said, hopping off the counter.