“I don’t know.” I lean my head in my hands and exhale. “I can’t make any choices right now. Of course, I’ll help you while I’m here. I just need to get back to myself before I make life changes.”

“There’s something in the air here that’s healing. And, remember, my door is always open, and the Center would love to have you. But still, Lauren, you deserve more than that bullshit law firm. Jonathan is such an ass—” Her voice breaks off, and her eyes move to the door before lighting up.

I turn to see what she’s looking at. It’s Vincent. But wait …

Oh shit! Shit, fuck, shit, shit, shit!

Beside Vincent is a wall of a man. A six-foot-something, tatted-up, military man. I knew I’d see him while I was here, but I figured it would be a few days into my stay and after I got myself together—or at least did my hair, wore some makeup, and put on a cute outfit. Instead, I’m a mess.

The men stride toward us, their presence shrinking the entire bar and restaurant. Has Slade always been this big?

“Hi, baby,” Vincent murmurs, putting his nose in Eve’s hair after sliding into the booth.

I haven’t seen him since the wedding, and I’m absolutely struck stupid at how handsome he looks. Hair like black ink, dark eyes, and tan skin. Sure, he’s got a deep scar down his face that wasn’t there the first time I saw him. But, somehow, it only adds to his dark and dangerous appeal.

Slade effortlessly moves his huge body next to mine, maneuvering over two hundred pounds of muscle with ease. My body is completely rigid and awkward from nerves. Slade, on the other hand, looks barely affected by the fact that I’m here.

“Lauren, hey,” he says calmly, casually draping an arm behind my chair while looking back, presumably to find the waitress.

I glance at Eve, finding her eyes pinging between Slade and me. She smirks before turning to Vincent, whispering something in his ear. Moments later, they both stand.

“I’ve got to call my sister, and it’s too loud in here. We’ll be back in a minute.” Eve winks.

“So, how’ve you been? We didn’t get to talk after … you know. You ran out on me.” The rumble of his voice is firm, eyes creased in the corners.

“Things have been hard the last few days, obviously.” I clear my throat. “So, I came out here for a little break. Was planning to message you later tonight actually.” I do my best to keep my voice and body steady.

The art of bullshit and acting calm when there’s a riot in my chest is second nature to me at this point. I try to find something about his face that bothers me, that should settle the ache between my legs and the awkwardness in my heart. His nose is too straight. His lips are too full. His jaw is too chiseled. Damn him!