Chapter Thirty-Two
The sound of the bottle hitting the bar echoed through the room. When he’d first come through the curtains, the sight of her sitting alone and dejected had squeezed Blake’s chest. Seeing that she was still wearing her blue glasses instead of the black had squeezed it further. At the same time, a little thrill of hope stirred. If he had even half a chance, he’d take it and run.
Her eyes were pools of conflict. At once wary, relieved, and hungry. Her cheeks had hollowed, confirmation of Jamey’s report that she hadn’t been sleeping. She started to speak, but he shushed her mouth with his finger, shaking his head.
“Me first.”
Touching her, after weeks of his body starving for her, sent a jolt of awareness through him. He traced her bottom lip, and was rewarded with her q
