Chapter 33

That’s what Vincent told himself as he knocked on David’s suite door. That’s what he had to tell himself, because if he really didn’t care, he wouldn’t be so nervous. He would have used his key, gone into the suite, took what he wanted, and been on his way. If he really didn’t care, he wouldn’t be dreading the possibility of David changing his mind

David answered immediately, like he had only been just inside the door, waiting for Vincent to arrive. He wore simple gray slacks and the white button-down shirt he’d had on at the funeral. The difference was, now it hung loose over his waistband, the cuffs rolled back to expose the fine hairs on his arms, the collar open to expose his throat and a hint of the smooth, hard plane of his chest.

More than that, he wore a smile, genuinely pleased to see him.

“Come in,” he said, holding the door wider.