“I had things to get off my chest,” I told him and he grinned as his hand at my neck as well as his arm around my back gave me a squeeze.

Then he dipped his head, touched his mouth to mine, and the lifted it away before he whispered, “Yeah, and I’m fuckin’ glad you did. You were magnificent, sweetness. Fuckin’ phenomenal.”

It was nice he thought that and all.

But…

“I lost it again,” I whispered, pressing in closer.

“No, you’re finding it,” he contradicted.

“What?”

“Babe, he took your power. Tonight, you took it back. And it”—his arm gave me a squeeze—“was”—his hand gave me a squeeze—“fuckin’ ”—his forehead dropped to rest on mine—“beautiful.”

I closed my eyes and pulled in a deep breath.

Then I opened them and said, “You had my back.”

“I always have your back.”

Warm gushiness flooded through me. One of my hands slid from around his back, up his chest, his neck to cup his cheek.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“You’re welcome, Tess,” he whispered back.

He lifted his forehead and his thumb swept my jaw as my fingers slid from his cheek into his hair.

Then he declared, “Shit that went down tonight, get it outta your head.”

I blinked.

Then I asked, “Sorry?”

“It happened, it’s reported, the phone call prior is bein’ looked into. You live your life. You bake your cakes. You spend time with your friends. You already tell me where you are and where you’re goin’, you intensify that. I’ll send someone to look at the security at your bakery and also look into setting something up here.”

“Brock—”

“Vance is good at that shit. Stellar. I’ll talk to him.”

“Brock—”

“Units are gonna drive by regular, keep a look out. And your bakery is now on radar.”

“Hon—”

“They got shell casings. Those might have prints. Guy was wearin’ a ski mask but I got his build, make and model on the car, a partial plate, and he wasn’t wearin’ gloves so we know he’s white.”

“Can I—?”

His thumb stopped stroking and his fingers gave me a squeeze.

“You be smart, you be vigilant, but I have your back, Tess. I always do. You do not need to worry about this.”

I stared at him, thinking now maybe Brock was high.

Then I reminded him, “You got shot at tonight.”

“Yeah, babe, and it’s happened before. I hope it won’t happen again but in my line of work that’s a possibility. I deal and you bein’ my woman, you deal.”

“But—”

His hand shifted so his thumb could press on my lips.