23. Luke

Rain battered the sliding glass door in my bedroom. Through the fog, I could just make out the gray, churning ocean.

It was well past time to give up the ruse of pretending to sleep—almost eleven, and the storm was only getting worse. I dragged myself out of bed and pulled on a crewneck sweatshirt over my board shorts. Scrubbed two hands down my exhausted face. My hair stuck up at every angle, and my pillowcase had left a long imprint down the left side of my cheek.

I looked like I'd been well and truly fucked.

Which wasn't far from the truth.

The night had gone like this: toss, turn, replay every filthy detail of what happened with Elijah, contemplate texting him, toss, turn, draft a text, don't send it, toss, turn.

At dawn, I'd finally kicked away the covers and given in to temptation, jerking off to the memory of Elijah's rough voice when he'd said you're so fucking perfect right now.

And then begged me not to stop.

Elijah had begged as I sucked his cock, and I would never, not in a million years, forget what it was like to be the cause of his desperate unraveling.

He'd sprawled in front of me like a king, all thick thighs and barrel chest and that massive dick. Throat exposed, fingers in my hair, his husky growls as I took him over the edge with my hand over his mouth.

If this was what it meant to crack that man wide open, I wasn't sure I'd survive much more of it. I'd gotten two real smiles, given one quick blow job, and here I was walking around my bedroom like I'd been whacked upside the head with a frying pan.

I finger-combed my hair into some semblance of order, grabbed my phone and slipped on my sandals. Opening my bedroom door, I found Elijah standing there in a perfectly pressed suit and holding a steaming mug of coffee. He brightened when he saw me, and one side of his mouth tipped up into the subtlest half smile.

I beamed at him.

"Elijah, um…good morning," I sputtered. "What are you doing here? I mean, that came out wrong. I want you here." I coughed into my fist. "In a normal and professional way. Obviously. I just meant?—"

He glanced over his shoulder and took a single step into my bedroom. "Ripley and Sylvester are out in the kitchen. We wanted to go over some updates with you about what happened last night."

His eyes fell to the crook of my neck, where I sported a bruise in the shape of his mouth. I touched it, out of instinct, and watched his throat bob as he swallowed.

"Sure thing," I finally said, raking a hand through my hair. "It was…it was an exciting night, that's for sure."

He gave the slightest arch of his eyebrow.

I flushed. "In a bad way. 'Cause of the…knife attack."

Elijah pressed his lips together and passed me the coffee mug. When I took it, he angled his pinkie finger, let it slide along mine before stepping back. My heart flipped twice, and his breathing hitched.

"Thank you," I said, raising the mug. "Did you sleep at all? I thought you were on the night shift now."

"I grabbed a few hours. Wanted to be up for your trip today."

I sipped. "My trip?"

Elijah moved into the hallway and cocked his head toward the kitchen. "You're still planning on heading out to the wetlands, correct?"

I palmed my forehead. "Shit. Yeah. I totally forgot with everything that happened. It was only going to be a day trip, especially with this storm. There's not a lot out in Rodanthe Hills and the roads are pretty narrow. I don't want us to get stuck out there. But I messaged Nora last night and she said the protesters are taking the day off, given the weather. That makes it even more likely that Clarence is home today."

"I'll drive you and we'll make it quick," he said, as I followed him into the kitchen. Ripley had a laptop open on my counter while Sylvester was on the phone. They both gave me a wave and I noted the dark circles under their eyes. In fact, Elijah's were deeper and darker than they'd ever been. "These two are needed here but we obviously don't want you going alone."

My stomach dipped at the realization he meant just the two of us. I could only nod in agreement and sip my coffee like my life depended on it.

"Are you going somewhere today?" Sylvester asked. "That wasn't on the schedule."

I cut a glance at Elijah, whose face was impressively impassive. Sylvester and Ripley couldn't know why I was going out to the wetlands, not without getting Elijah in major trouble for breaking all kinds of rules.

"A quick work thing," I said with a shrug. "The weather could be better, but I'm not too worried. Did everyone end up okay after we got home? No surprise injuries?"

"No, sir," Ripley said. "Elijah followed protocol. Got the assailant to the ground and got you to safety."

I hid a smirk behind my mug, since got me to safety was one way to describe what he'd done to me after yanking me into that bedroom.

A memory of Elijah on his knees, the wild look in his eyes, the plea in his voice, came roaring back. If that man had put even a scratch on you, I would have ended him right fucking there.

"Excellent," I finally said, with a flutter in my stomach. "Any word on Senator Wallace and if she's prepared to sue me for ruining her party's whole vibe?"

"We've been in contact with her head of security," Elijah said. "Everyone's trying to assess where the mistake was made. Until then, we're on high alert. We've sent extra guards to Harriet's home as well."

"Thank you," I said with a nod. "It's appreciated."

I'd called Harriet late last night to tell her everything, from the thwarted knife attack to the hottest thirty minutes of my life, all thanks to my heroic bodyguard.

When she heard about Elijah, she'd only squealed and yelled called it. She was much less thrilled about news of the attack, though she remained less worried for herself and more worried about me. I'd assured her of near-constant updates about both situations—and made her promise three times to stay extra vigilant.

"Do we know who he was? And why he tried to kill me?" I asked.

A muscle ticked in Elijah's jaw. "His name is Vincent Maura, though he's been going by an alias for the past four years. He's the stalker I mentioned to you last week. He was obsessed with your father and ended up being quite dangerous. Until now, he's evaded arrest. Clearly had some plastic surgery done. According to law enforcement, he's spent the past couple months cozying up to Senator Wallace's campaign, making large gifts. Looks like he was hoping he'd get invited to the event last night, and he admitted that the original plan was to kill Lincoln. He wouldn't have been able to enter with a weapon, so he stole one from the kitchen."

Elijah shared a look with his team. "His new identity was a decent enough fake that Senator Wallace's security didn't notice anything when they checked the guest list. And he hadn't been on our radar since he disappeared, which was clearly our mistake."

I blew out a breath. Maybe I didn't need to go out to the wetlands after all today. "Well holy shit. He's the threat, right? The guy following us and sending those emails?"

He shook his head. "Vincent Maura confessed to planting the car bomb."

My eyes widened. "Holy shit, again."

"But he denied sending those pictures and the emails and has a solid alibi for the night you and Elijah were chased near the Shipwreck," Sylvester added. "When the cops asked him about a missing flash drive, he had no idea what they were talking about. They believe him."

I set down my mug. "Then what does that mean? We're dealing with two different people?"

Elijah and Ripley shared another look. "Seems likely," Elijah said. "And isn't unheard of. But it does make a certain kind of sense. The car bomb was an escalation that didn't fit with the rest of the threats. Catching Vincent Maura doesn't remove the urgency of whoever's after the missing flash drive. We still consider them to be very dangerous."

I was simultaneously relieved to know who'd planted the bomb and extremely confused about the rest of it. Visiting Clarence today was still a go then, due to his jumpy behavior and long history of hating my father. But Elijah and I hadn't had a chance to talk about Senator Wallace yet and her offer to professionally collaborate. An offer that felt more threatening than friendly. Had Dad been blackmailing the senator?

Or had she been in on it too? What had she said? He always had my back and I always had his.

Sylvester cleared his throat. "If mistakes were made last night, please understand that we take full responsibility, Mr. Beaumont."

I waved it away. "Oh, guys, please. I have full faith in your capabilities. Last night changes nothing."

"An attempt was made on your life, Lucas," Elijah said in a voice like steel. "His intent was to kill you in front of all those people. It's a very big deal and we're taking it seriously."

His gaze swept across my face and I was reminded of his frantic hands last night, pulling at my clothing.

I held his stare and said, "I trust you, Elijah."

The silence between us lingered a beat too long. Sylvester coughed awkwardly and said, "Uh, sir? Someone can cover for me at the Beaumont estate today. It's a high alert situation. You shouldn't be going alone."

Elijah didn't even blink. "I'll be fine. Foster is aware of the arrangement."

For a second, it looked like Sylvester was going to argue. But instead he nodded, just as a branch struck the windows next to us.

I winced at the downpour and set down my coffee. "Let me grab a Thermos and an umbrella. We should probably hit the road, yeah?"

Elijah was peering at the sky with a frown. "It's only going to get worse."

And by the time I returned, better dressed for rain and with everything else I needed, Sylvester and Ripley had gone. Elijah was standing in the open doorway, waiting for me, and when I stepped outside and realized we were completely alone, butterflies erupted in my belly like I was a fucking teenager with a crush.

Though I was so far past crush at this point it was laughable.

"I'm definitely sitting in the front seat with you this time," I said, cocking a thumb at the car.

His eyes were locked on my mouth. "It's against the rules."

"I think we're well past the rules, don't you?"

He revealed a slow, sexy grin that stole my breath away. "As you wish, my liege."

I was still laughing when he ducked his head and ran to the car, holding open my door as the rain poured down. I darted out and hopped inside, shaking water from my hair as he slid in on his side, looking somehow more immaculate than before. For a moment, there came only the sounds of the rain on the roof and the whoosh of the windshield wipers. I noted again the lines around his mouth, the dark thumbprints beneath his lower lashes.

"Did you actually sleep last night?" I asked quietly.

"Some." His hands slid along the steering wheel. "But not much. I had a lot on my mind."

"Anything in particular?"

"You." His gaze lazily traveled the entire length of my body. "I thought about you all night, Luke."

More rain, falling even harder now, almost loud enough to drown out the sound of my heart, roaring in my ears. And I wasn't sure who moved first—him or me—but we collided across the console and our mouths crashed together. My hands clutched at his jacket while his fingers dove into my hair, tipping my face to the side as I opened wider for him.

It was the sweetest relief to feel him again, to taste him again. The intensity of the kiss didn't relent either. I couldn't get enough. Of the strength in his arms, the confidence in his grip, the way being kissed by Elijah was like being savored and devoured in equal measure.

My chest heaved with breath when we finally parted and he gripped the back of my neck, keeping me close.

"I have a dozen drafted text messages I never sent to you last night," I panted. "They started off fairly normal and flirtatious. But by four in the morning, they were severely unhinged. Red flags as far as the eye could see."

His lips twitched. "You should have sent them."

"I should have deleted them. Then never admitted to it. In fact, feel free to toss me out of this moving car as soon as you get a chance."

A husky, melodic sound came from the back of Elijah's throat. Recognition hit a second later. "Was that a…?"

Elijah kissed me again and muttered "Don't push your luck" against my lips.

When he turned to back the car from the driveway, a blush stained his cheeks, and he was clearly fighting a smile.

"That was a laugh. I knew it," I said.

"Who can say?"

"Which means you do think I'm funny." I held up my fingers to tick off the rest of the list. "And also warm and kind and charming. Per your own description."

He sent me a sideways glance. "I also described you as reckless, irritating and having taken years off my life."

I settled back in the passenger seat. "Yeah, but I'm funny. And you have a very sexy laugh."

His blush deepened.

And those butterflies floated throughout my entire goddamn body.