One Last Job

by Anise Starre

A few seconds longer and I think I would’ve caved and given her everything she wanted. I still might.

“Don’t stay with someone that makes you feel small. Eventually, you’ll start to believe it. I learned that the hard way, and I hope you don’t have to.”

In the background I can hear my four-year-old niece, Maya, making a truly unholy amount of noise.

She gives me a small nod and then turns to her laptop, fingers moving at lightning speed as she tackles an inbox I can only assume is as lawless a place as my own.

She shakes her head and then laughs like she hasn’t just split my heart in two.

“I can see that.” She looks me up and down slowly, deliberately. “You’ve got the whole blond, muscled hero thing going on.” “Is that your type?” I ask, leaning in. “Blond, muscled heroes?” “I don’t have a type,” she says with a smirk. “Treat me nice, and we’ll see where it goes.”

“Beautiful, passionate, stubborn women who don’t have a problem telling me what they really think about me.” She lifts a brow and hums. “That’s very specific.”

“I know what I like.” She tries to hide her smile by spearing some chicken onto her fork and taking a bite. “Well, I hope you find her one of these days.” I wonder how long we’re going to pretend like I haven’t already.

can’t tell if she’s just trying to get ahead of whatever she thinks her mother might say, or if her mother has just managed to chip down her sense of worth over the years, that negatively qualifying something like this is just second nature to her now.

“Don’t do that.” Her brows furrow. “Don’t do what?” “Make yourself small.”

“You’re good at what you do, Finn. But I bet you rub a lot of people the wrong way back home by acting like you didn’t have help getting where you are. That leg up in the beginning put you miles ahead of the rest of your peers. It’s like winning a marathon you started at the halfway point and not understanding why everyone else is so tired.

Bailey would think this is all hilarious. She’s in Jamaica right now on a PR trip with her brother’s best friend, Cash, and I know she’s going to lose her mind when I update her on everything that’s happened.

Even from across the room, I can see the way his lips move as he tilts his glass toward me and mouths, “To Amber.”

You know, I really think I could come to love this man. I might already be pretty close.

“You’ve made me a better man, honestly. More thoughtful. Considerate. Trusting. And my life is infinitely brighter with you in it.”

You love that girl.”

“I want you.” The confession seems to startle her, but I’m not sure why. Doesn’t she know I’m already hers? Now and forever. There’s no one else. There’s never going to be anyone else. From the moment we first met, it’s always been her. “You already have me,” I say

I crowd over her, press my lips against her shoulder and murmur three words I wish I could say out loud.

“We both deserve more than that.” “I can give you more.”