26. Luke

Icast one last look at the raging storm outside before shutting the door and locking us in.

Elijah made his way to the landline on the counter, but based on his worried expression after he picked up the receiver, my guess was that the phone lines had been knocked out, along with the power.

The house was slightly dusty, the air a bit stale, but functional nonetheless. It was essentially one giant room, the style similar to a lot of the older seaside cottages in the area. A large, worn couch sat by the fireplace, which Elijah moved to fill with logs from the stack nearby. As soon as he got it lit, he stood shivering in front of it with his hands out, and the sight of his hunched shoulders had me springing into action.

Still dripping wet, I walked to the tiny kitchen on the left side of the room and began yanking open drawers, until I located emergency lanterns and a few flashlights. After setting them up near the couch, I rummaged around in the shelves and found a bottle of bourbon. With two full glasses hooked with my fingers, I moved across the room and handed him a glass.

He stared down into the pilfered amber liquid, then scowled.

"I know," I said gently. "We're no better than common criminals now. But I'm willing to accept this new lifestyle and go on the run if you are."

Elijah rolled his eyes and knocked back the bourbon with more skill than I was expecting. I followed suit with my own shot, shuddering as a bright burst of heat worked its way into my chest.

"If it makes you feel any better, I have every intention of leaving them a note and then sending them money as soon as I recover my wallet. It'll be like…like an Airbnb stay they didn't realize they'd booked for us."

A hint of a smile appeared on his face. "I'm not that uptight. I'm capable of having fun."

I tipped my head to the side. "Name three things you've done for fun in the past year that aren't being the very best protection agent the world has ever seen."

He glanced to the side with an exasperated sigh. "I…I was on vacation when Foster called about your dad. The first one in five years."

"And did you enjoy yourself?"

"There was…the sun," he said. "And also…lounge chairs."

I placed my hands gently on his shoulders and turned him around, back to an armchair that sat by the fire. "Good god, we need to get some fucking whimsy in your life, Elijah." He sat when I pushed him down, albeit reluctantly. "As soon as we're past this, I'm taking you to a field of wildflowers and we're gonna lay in it and watch the clouds pass us by. Maybe have a picnic. Get our faces painted. Find an old, rickety rollercoaster and ride it just for kicks. Eat too many candy bars. I'll even drag you into a store and make you watch me have a wacky trying-on-clothes montage."

I twisted around, poured him a bit more whiskey, then pressed the glass into his hand. "Drink this and try to warm back up. I shall return with towels and dry clothes."

Elijah fisted a hand in my damp clothing, preventing me from sidling away. He pulled me close, until I could see the drops of water in his eyelashes. "What are you doing?"

I swallowed thickly. "Taking care of you."

"Why?"

I brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. His arm banded around my waist, keeping me close. "Because I want to. Because you deserve everything that's good. We're not going anywhere in this storm, but it's safe here, and there's a fire going and all of our problems and worries will still be there in the morning. Which means it's okay if we don't worry about them till then."

His eyes searched mine and then he tipped his face up and pulled my mouth down to his. His lips were red-hot against the chill, parting as he licked his tongue inside. His hand came around to grip my face, and a low, satisfied groan rumbled from the center of his chest. I melted at his obvious pleasure, at how he deepened the kiss slowly. Thoroughly. When he pulled back, he had to steady my weak knees.

"You're the last time I had fun, Luke," he said, nipping the side of my neck with his teeth.

Soft laughter shivered from me. "Is this the kind of fun you like? Getting rescued from a submerged car after being run off the road?" His lips moved firmly up my neck, hovering at my ear, breath hot. "I'm free…" I sighed. "I'm free next weekend if you wanna do it again."

"That's not the kind of fun I was referring to." His teeth closed around my ear, and I had to fight to remain standing. "I'm talking about you coming with my hand wrapped around your cock at that party. How fucking sexy you were, how fucking perfect. I haven't known a moment of peace since." Another kiss below my ear. "I can't stop thinking about the sounds you made."

His big hands curved around my hips and landed on my ass, where he grabbed with a hushed snarl that had me cursing. "How desperate you were. How eager." His lips brushed across my cheek before landing on my own again. This kiss shattered me from the inside out, a deep, searching caress that had my fingers twisting in his wet shirt. "I wanted to spend days with you on that couch, Luke. Not minutes. Never minutes when it comes to you."

Another kiss, this one darker. Harsher. He hauled me flush against him.

And then winced in obvious pain.

I reared back and caught him by the chin. "I'm going to commence taking care of you now."

"Luke, I'm fine," he said with a smile. Reached for my face again, and that's when I noticed the knuckles on his right hand, torn open and bleeding.

I shot him a look, then dipped to examine them closer. "I need to bandage these, put some ice on those ribs. But first, strip out of these wet clothes. I'm on a mission for something clean and dry."

He gave a grumpy growl that I ignored. Instead, I pressed a smiling kiss to his temple and strode to the small bedroom in the back, one of the lanterns lighting my way. I returned after a few minutes with fluffy, dry towels and some clothing for Elijah. I'd thrown my own soaked ones into the tub and pulled on sweats that were short in the leg but too loose at the waist, so I yanked them as tightly as I could and tossed on a shirt.

Back in the main room, I found ice, a dish towel, and a newish first aid kit. When I turned around, Elijah was stepping out of his clothing. I stopped at the sight of him, bathed in golden firelight, my heart in my throat.

Flickering light danced across his broad, powerful back and the chest hair spreading to his strong belly. He caught me looking, sent me a glower as he shucked his wet pants, revealing thighs so thick I wanted to bite them.

I moved closer, tracking the bruising on the right side of his ribs already starting to turn purple. His swelling knuckles. I nodded at the chair again and he sat. Took the ice I offered, sucking in a breath when he pressed it to his skin. I rubbed a towel down his arms, his burly chest. Our eyes stayed locked, a pleased half smile playing on his lips.

"You really learned all this from doing all those extreme sports?"

"Do you mean my obvious expertise in the medical arts?" I asked with a grin.

"You're very good at it," he said softly.

I moved to stand behind him, drying the damp strands of his hair, working my fingers along his scalp.

"You have to be, if you're gonna fling yourself out of an airplane with a parachute on. Need to be able to save yourself in a hundred different ways if the worst happens." I toweled off his rippling back, the nape of his neck. "My job is pretty easy and go-with-the-flow. But that's what the customers pay us for—skilled competence out on the water and the ability to save their life if need be."

I ran the towel down his flexing thigh muscles. Watched the thick length of him harden in his borrowed shorts. Kissed the top of his knee with a coy smile. "Let me see your hand now."

He set it gently on his leg while I settled on my knees in front of him. "I think I hit it on the car when I was swimming out."

I found butterfly bandages and antibiotic ointment in the first aid kit. When I applied the ointment to the open skin, he didn't flinch. I felt the heavy weight of his attention, tracking my every movement.

"How many times have you jumped out of an airplane with a parachute on?"

I laid the first bandage on his skin. "I've skydived more times than I can count. More than I bungee jump."

"And what else?"

Another bandage. More ointment. "I love to kite surf. Regular surf. Rock climb. Whitewater raft when I can make it out west." I peered up at him through my lashes. "There was a time in my early twenties when I got obsessed with cage-diving with sharks. Great whites, mostly."

Elijah eyed me with something like wonder. The soft warmth from the fireplace surrounded us, even as the wind howled past, rattling the panes. And I contemplated staying right here, trapped in this moment, for as long as the outside world would let me.

"Do you ever get scared?" he asked.

I nodded and went back to my bandaging. "Always. It's too dangerous otherwise. You need that voice inside that urges caution. Fear is part of it, but it also"—my mouth pulled into a grin—"feels so fucking good. Makes me feel alive, completely present in the moment. The first time I ever skydived was because my mom had it on her bucket list. She never got to do it. There was so much she never got to do."

I sat back on my knees. "She was really sick at the end. But she made a bucket list, showed it to me and Preston. It was silly—I think she drew the whole thing in crayon. But he and I tried to cross some things off the list for her."

"Like what?" Elijah asked.

I shoved a hand into my hair, slowly drying. "She wanted one last Christmas, but she ended up dying during the summer. Preston and I got her a tree. Hauled out all of our ornaments. Wrapped presents that we made ourselves. We played Christmas music for a week straight, watched all of her favorite movies. She loved it."

Elijah's fingers brushed a lock of hair off my forehead. "And you don't worry about the risk? Swimming with sharks and jumping off bridges?"

"Being alive is risky." I turned, pressed a kiss to his palm. "My mom lived a year after her diagnosis. It was random. Violent. Shocking. Horrible in every way imaginable. And it took away the person I loved most in the world."

I met Elijah's gaze again and was stunned at the reverence there.

He swallowed hard, multiple times. "I'm so sorry she was taken from you."

"She would have liked you a lot, Elijah." I busied myself with setting aside the first aid kit, rolling up the towels and shoving them away. "I…I like you a lot."

Silence lingered between us, and I fought the urge to fidget. There was no reason to hide. I wasn't shy about how I felt. Hadn't been shy from the moment we met. But there was something about this sweet slice of time, in this house we didn't own, as a storm devastated the landscape outside.

It felt beyond boundaries, beyond reality.

"Do you know how beautiful you are?" Elijah asked, his voice rougher than normal.

A blush stained my cheeks. "Wanna tell me in extremely specific detail?"

Another husky laugh. "Come here."

I pressed up onto my knees until we were face-to-face. His strong thighs bracketed my waist, his body heat warmer than the fire. I reached for him, but he stopped me, grabbing my wrist like he had the night at the bookstore. He pressed his nose to my pulse point, inhaled like a starving man.

"I was an asshole to you earlier."

I blinked. "Really? When?"

He dragged his nose up and down the delicate skin there. "After the car. After you rescued me. You're more than what your family thinks of you, and I'm sorry I ever made you feel that same way. The truth is, I was so fucking scared when we went over that cliff. We're trained to stay calm in those situations and all I could do was panic."

He kissed my wrist. Lingered there. Kissed my palm. Every fingertip.

I stopped breathing altogether.

"No one told me it would feel this way," he murmured. "Caring for someone. Wanting someone. The fear is debilitating, Luke. I keep having nightmares that I'm messing up, that you'll get hurt, that every mistake I've ever made will stack up against me and you'll pay the price."

Elijah dragged his open mouth across my palm. The tip of his tongue caressed my inner wrist. I was frozen on my knees, incinerated from the inside out.

"I wasn't supposed to want you, Lucas. I wasn't supposed to give in," he said, in the cadence of a confession. As if I had the ability to absolve him, when my desire for this man burned hot enough to engulf the sun.

There's a moment when skydiving, before you step out of the plane, when your brain can't comprehend how high up you are. It's the combination of some ancient fear mixed with the desire to leap into clouds that look like marshmallows. It's the most dizzying sensation, the euphoria paired with icy panic.

That was what it was like, watching Elijah Knight inhale the scent of my skin like it was sacred to him.

My heart thrashed with a wild and unruly hope—while my brain screamed at me to run. I knew what it was like to have every vulnerability wielded against me. To be left, abandoned and betrayed by the people who were supposed to protect me.

"Why did you give in?" I asked.

His eyes lingered on my mouth before traveling up to find mine. "Because I'm completely undone by you."

Then Elijah's lips claimed my own in a bruising kiss.

And I was gone.