Chapter 90

I reach for the mints, but he laughs, catches my hands, and pulls me on top of him, arms wrapping around my waist.

“It’s not fair. I want to try them.”

“And I want to hold you.”

He rolls us on the bed to spoon me, and as he absently strokes my shoulder and arm, sleep starts to wash over me.

I’m about to drift off when I say it. I don’t know what prompts me—maybe I want Marcus to know we’ve exorcised not only Jeremiah’s ghost, but my father’s as well.

“My father called me.”

I whisper it, but I know he hears because the arm around me tightens almost imperceptibly.

“When?”

“In Santa Fe. You were outside with Ronnie. I’d just taken a shower.”

“Why didn’t you tell me until now? Wait—” he corrects immediately. “I know. I was being a cocoon.”

I roll over because I need to see his face.

“No,” I say, kissing him softly. “You were trying to protect me. With very little finesse, of course,” I add, making him smile. “But that was