Chapter 8 Luke #2
“Over my dead body.” She’d never return to her father’s house. Never. “You’re here. I know it sucks. I know it’s boring and lonely, but this is it. You’re here.”
“It’s not fair.”
“I know. And I’m sorry.”
“No.” She shook her head. “Not for me. I landed myself in this mess. I mean, it’s not fair to you.”
“Why? I want you here.”
“Luke, you had a life before I came here. You deserve to get back to it.”
To long hours at work? To coming home to an empty house?
She had no idea how much I liked having someone here with me.
Not just someone, her. I liked wondering what surprise was waiting when I walked through the door.
A new room layout. A new culinary experiment.
My sock drawer reorganized and the clothes in my closet hung by color.
I liked listening to her laugh at the television or brag when she beat me at cribbage.
I loved having Scarlett in my home. A confession precariously close to spilling off my tongue.
“Listen, the only reason I went out tonight was to keep up appearances,” I said. “I need to look like I’m living my life. That’s hard to do with you here.”
“Then I should go.”
“No, that’s not what I mean.” I blew out a deep breath and raked a hand through my hair. “I don’t want to go out. I don’t want to spend my evenings at The Betsy.”
Scarlett had turned this house into a home. Maybe part of the reason I hadn’t told her about the FBI or the Warriors was because I wanted to keep her here as long as possible. To have her as mine.
Fuck it.
Tonight, she’d get all the truths.
“If you give me the choice of anything outside these walls or being here with you, I choose you. Every time. Trust me when I say that I would much rather share dinner with you than lose fifty bucks to Emmett at the pool table.”
Scarlett’s mouth parted. “Really?”
“Yes, really. I didn’t like leaving you here tonight. I didn’t like that I had no way to call. All I wanted was to come home, have dinner and let you win at cribbage.”
“Wait. You let me win?”
“No.” I chuckled. Of course that was the thing she’d focus on. Scarlett was as competitive as I was. “Don’t worry. You win fair and square.”
The corner of her mouth turned up. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”
“Because I was trying to protect you.”
“By keeping me in the dark?” She shook her head. “That’s not protection. I’ve been standing at the windows for days, bored, seeing what was out there. Someone could have seen me. I thought it was safe.”
“I’m sure it’s fine.”
“But it might not have been.” Her voice rose. “You should have told me.”
“You’re right.” I held up a hand. “I’m sorry. I’ve never done this before.”
She scoffed. “I should hope not.”
“I’m doing what I think is best.” Muddling through, day by day.
“I know.” She sighed. “I know. Maybe your life would be better if I disappeared. Or went with the FBI.”
“No.” A tendril of hair had escaped the messy knot on the top of her head. My fingers ached to touch it. To tuck it behind the shell of her ear. But I kept my hands at my sides, my arms rigid. “No, it would not.”
Scarlett’s gaze dropped to my bare chest and I realized, during our discussion, I’d inched even closer. There was no need to be in her space, but damn it, I couldn’t move away.
Her eyes turned up, finding mine, and her tongue darted out, licking her bottom lip.
Fuuuuck. My cock jerked beneath the towel, surging to life. I wanted to claim that mouth. To suck her tongue between my teeth. To hear her whimper as I kissed her senseless.
But she was forbidden. As much as I’d pretended, Scarlett was not mine. So I cleared my throat, grateful the room was still dark so she couldn’t read the hunger on my face. “Let’s get some rest.”
“Okay.” She bent to pick up her backpack, then turned, but before she could disappear into her bedroom, I stopped her.
“Scarlett.”
“Yeah?”
“I like the living room.”
She smiled. “Can I tell you something?”
“Of course.”
“I thought maybe tonight you met a woman and wanted to bring her home but couldn’t because I was here.”
“There was no woman, Scarlett.” Not when I only saw her.
“But if there is. If you need . . .” She fidgeted with the strap on her backpack. “I can hide in my room. Pretend I’m not here.”
Was she serious? She thought I wanted another woman?
“I don’t want another woman.”
“You don’t?”
Crash.
My control shattered.
I closed the distance between us, holding her gaze, willing my next words to sink in deep. “The only woman I want is you.”
Scarlett gasped, her eyes heavy as they dragged down my body. I ached for her and the towel did nothing to conceal the bulge. When her eyes reached my groin, they widened.
That night I’d given her the sound machine, I’d thought maybe there could have been something on her part. Maybe this electricity wasn’t one-sided. Had I read it wrong? Shit. Maybe I had. Maybe I’d scared her away for good and now she’d run.
Why the fuck had I had two beers tonight? It had been over the course of hours, definitely not enough for me to be drunk, and I’d stopped well in time to drive home. But damn it, two beers had clearly rattled my goddamn mind. Because on a normal night, never would I have admitted I wanted her.
And damn, did I want her.
“I’ll, uh . . . good night, Scarlett.” I turned, ready to call this day done and hope tomorrow morning she’d still be here. But before I could leave, a pair of dainty fingers brushed over the skin at my shoulder.
“Luke.”
I gritted my teeth, unable to turn. “I’m sorry. I didn’t . . . I don’t want to make this uncomfortable for you. Pretend I didn’t say anything.”
“No.” The backpack landed at her feet with a muffled thud. Her fingers drifted across my skin, moving over my shoulder blade and toward my spine. “Turn around.”
I obeyed. “I don’t want to take advantage.”
“What if I want you to take advantage?”
She was shredding me to the core. Unable to resist just one touch, my fingers found that tendril of hair, tucking it away and tracing the curve of her ear. Then I traced the smooth line of her cheek, her skin like satin. “Scarlett, tell me to stop.”
“No.”
“I’m doing my best to stay in control here.” I jerked my hand to my side, closed my eyes and gritted my teeth. “Scarlett—”
She leaned in close. The whisper of her breath skated across my chest. “Lose control, Luke.”