Chapter 19 Lucy #2
He nods without judgment and pours himself two fingers of amber liquid, settling into the chair beside mine. The fire crackles between us, and above, the Montana sky spreads out like a blanket of diamonds on black velvet.
"Jesus, I've never seen so many stars," I breathe, tilting my head back to take in the impossible expanse of light.
"City lights make you forget they're there," Gabriel says, his voice softer now. "Out here, you can see the universe the way it's supposed to be seen."
I watch the flames dance and try not to watch Gabriel, but it's impossible. The firelight plays across his features, highlighting the strong line of his jaw, the way his lips curve around the rim of his glass.
A cool breeze stirs the air, and I shiver without meaning to.
"Cold?" Gabriel asks immediately, already rising from his chair.
"A little," I admit, though I'm not sure the shiver has anything to do with temperature.
There's a soft wool blanket draped over the back of his chair, and Gabriel shakes it out before moving to stand behind me. "Here," he murmurs, and his voice is close to my ear as he drapes the fabric around my shoulders.
His hands linger, adjusting the blanket, and I can feel the heat of his body at my back. When I turn to thank him, I realize he hasn't moved away. He's standing right there, close enough that I can see the intensity burning in his blue eyes, close enough to feel his breath ghost across my face.
"Lucy," he says, and the careful control he always maintains cracks just enough to let something hungry slip through.
The space between us seems to vibrate with possibility. I can smell his cologne mixed with wood smoke, can feel the careful restraint he's exercising as his eyes drop to my mouth.
He's leaning closer, his hand coming up to cup my cheek, when guilt crashes over me like ice water.
"Wait," I breathe, pressing my hand against his chest. "I need to tell you something."
He stills but doesn't move away. "What?"
"Today. With Colt." The words tumble out in a rush of confession. "We kissed."
Gabriel's jaw clenches, and for a moment something dangerous flickers behind his eyes. I expect him to pull away, to step back and put distance between us. Instead, his thumb traces along my cheekbone with devastating gentleness.
"Are you telling me this because you want me to stop?" he asks, his voice deadly quiet.
"I'm telling you because I promised I wouldn't lie to you."
Something shifts in his expression, something possessive and claiming that makes my breath catch in my throat.
And then his mouth is on mine.
Where Colt was gentle and questioning, Gabriel is sure and demanding. His lips are firm against mine, his kiss tasting of whiskey and something that's purely him.
He kisses me like he's staking a claim, like he's been wanting to do this for too long and refuses to hold back any longer.
I melt into him, my hands fisting in his shirt as he deepens the kiss. His arms circle me completely, one hand splayed across my back while the other cups the nape of my neck, angling my head to take the kiss deeper.
I can feel his control fraying at the edges, can feel the barely leashed power in the way he holds me.
When we finally break apart, we're both breathing hard. Gabriel's thumb traces my bottom lip, his eyes dark with something that makes my knees weak.
"Well," he says, his voice rough and satisfied, "now I've kissed you too."
I should be concerned about the possessive way he says it. Instead, all I feel is heat spiraling through me like wildfire.
"Gabriel," I start, but he silences me with a gentle finger against my lips.
"No regrets," he says firmly. "Not tonight."
He's right. Tomorrow I can go back to my plan, to keeping distance and protecting everyone from the disaster of my life. But tonight, with the fire warming my face and Gabriel's hands still on me, regret feels impossible.
"Come on," he says gently. "You should get some rest."
He walks me to my room, his hand warm and steady at the small of my back. At my door, he pauses, and for a moment I think he might kiss me again. Instead, he brushes a strand of hair from my face, his touch lingering like a promise.
"Sleep well, Lucy."
His fingers trail down my arm, deliberate and possessive, leaving heat behind that I feel long after his touch fades.
"And don't overthink tonight."
He turns to leave, but before I can stop myself, I catch his hand. Electricity arcs between us at the contact.
"Gabriel?" My voice comes out soft, uncertain.
He turns back, his eyes dark with something that makes my stomach flip. "What is it?"
I swallow hard, fighting the words, but they fall anyway. "I don't know what I'm doing. With you. With any of this."
Silence stretches between us for a heartbeat before he closes the space again. His hand lifts, steady and sure, cradling my jaw as his thumb brushes along my cheek, anchoring me to this moment.
"You don't have to know," he says, his voice softer now but sure as steel. "Not tonight."
He waits until I meet his eyes again, holding my gaze like he's memorizing this moment.
"Just remember..." his voice dips lower, rougher, "I don't regret it. And neither should you."
I lean into his hand despite myself, my eyes slipping shut. "Gabriel..."
His reply is almost a growl, quiet but fierce. "I know. Believe me, I feel it too."
Another beat of charged silence where the air between us seems to crackle.
"Go to sleep, Lucy."
His hand lingers just a second longer before he finally lets go and walks away, leaving me standing in my doorway like I've been struck by lightning.
After he leaves, I change into my pajamas and climb into bed with Tyson settling his bulk beside me like a furry guardian.
I had a plan this morning. Keep my distance, stay safe, don't get tangled up in complications that could destroy us all.
I scratch Tyson's ears in the darkness, remembering something the boxer he was named after once said.
"You know what, big guy?" I whisper into the darkness. "Everybody has a plan until they get punched in the mouth."
And my plan has definitely taken a beating.
By feelings I can't control, by two men who make me want things I never thought I could have, by the terrifying possibility that maybe I don't have to choose between safety and happiness after all.
Maybe I don't have to choose at all.