Chapter 8
EIGHT
By the time they made it back to their room a few minutes later, it was almost one in the morning. Candace headed straight for the bathroom to brush her teeth and get ready for bed, unable to shake the anxiety that had followed her from the meeting.
Though judging from the way Ryan had just pinned her to the elevator wall on the way up a few moments ago, it was clear he was only thinking about getting her naked the moment she stepped out into the bedroom.
On the one hand she wanted more of that connection with her husband, but on the other, she was too caught up in her head to be able to enjoy it right now.
She smoothed her hands down the front of her dress, suddenly nervous about what she had to say. Well, more about his reaction and response to it. But putting it off any longer wasn’t an option. Had to be now.
When she stepped out of the bathroom a few minutes later, however, she wavered. Ryan was stretched out on the bed watching her, stark naked, one muscular arm tucked beneath his head. Pure, decadent sin tempting her on every level.
“Come over here,” he said in that low, sexy voice that always made her insides clench in anticipation.
She faltered for a moment, drinking in the sight of that beautiful, hard male body waiting for her. You can still enjoy him afterward, Candace. She raised her eyes to his, cleared her throat. “I want to talk.”
His face went blank, then wariness crept into his eyes. “Now?”
“Yes, now.” She’d never be able to sleep tonight until this was cleared up.
“Can’t we talk after?”
He was such a guy. “Sex doesn’t solve everything, Ryan,” she said, frustration making her voice sharper than she’d intended.
A slight frown creased his forehead as he slowly sat up and propped himself against the headboard. “Okay... Is this about what Taylor said?”
“No. Well, partly.” Letting out a deep breath, she crossed to the bed and sat on it, her hip inches from his. She’d thought about how to word this for weeks now, had to make it clear so he understood. “I miss you.”
He searched her eyes for a long moment, as though she were a puzzle he was trying to figure out. “I’m right here.”
She lifted a hand to stroke his face, let her fingers linger on the soft whiskers of his beard.
She’d been bottling this up for so long and now she had to let it out.
“I told you most of it yesterday, but there’s more.
” When he waited, she continued. “I feel like we’re drifting apart and I’m scared if we don’t stop it, that it might lead to big problems between us.
Like, us turning into near strangers and our marriage falling apart. ”
At that he sat up straighter, concern on his face. “Why would you think that?”
Was she really the only one who felt this way? She wasn’t crazy; they had been drifting apart. How could he not have felt it, or at least noticed? She twisted her fingers together in her lap. “We just...we’re not as close as we used to be. Emotionally.”
He slipped an arm around her hips and dragged her onto his lap to tuck her into the cradle of his body.
The ache in her heart eased the moment his arms closed around her.
Heavy and strong. Loving. “I know we’ve been apart a lot over the past couple years, but that hasn’t changed the way I feel about you one bit.
I love you even more now than I did the day I married you. ”
She lifted her head to look into his mahogany-brown eyes. “You do?”
“Of course,” he said, sounding offended that she’d question it. “Why, are you saying you don’t love me the way you used to?”
“I do, I just feel like we’re not as close as we were and I miss that.
And I’m not trying to make you feel guilty about being away—you know I’m well aware of what your job requires and that I fully support your career.
But I miss us. I miss my husband,” she finished, her stupid voice catching as her throat locked up.
She didn’t even know if she was making sense, but she didn’t know how else to word it.
“I miss being in bed with you and waking up with you there, being able to talk to you about anything and everything. I miss feeling safe with you next to me. And I want to make plans together for our life.”
He stiffened slightly. “I tried to stay in touch with you this last time as much as I could.”
“I know, but in all our e-mails and phone calls, we mostly talked about surface stuff, especially after that tense call. Nothing really important about what we want, or anything about our future as a couple.”
“So you’re saying...what? You want me to quit?”
“No,” she said, appalled that he’d even think she’d ask that of him. “I know how much you love your job, and if you quit because of me you’d resent me for it.”
He visibly relaxed. “What then?”
“I guess I want us both to try harder when we’re apart,” she said, tracing her fingertips over the notch between his collarbones. “We both need to make more of an effort to stay connected with one another on an emotional level.”
She was quiet a moment. “Remember when we were out in those mountains together? It was the scariest thing I’ve ever been through, not gonna lie, but I’d never felt closer to anyone than I did to you then. And for those few weeks afterward as well.”
“If you’re saying you want us to get trapped behind enemy lines together in the Hindu Kush during the dead of winter so we can bond again, I’m gonna have to pass,” he said dryly.
She couldn’t help but laugh, beginning to feel stupid and insecure and wishing she hadn’t brought this up.
“No, I wouldn’t ever want to go through that again either.
My point was, I miss the strength of the link we had then.
And I still really want to have a family.
Sooner rather than later. I’m willing to be a single stay-at-home mom for a little while, but I don’t want to raise our kids all by myself while you’re overseas all the time. We need to plan for that together.”
He nodded. “That’s fair, I get it. And if we had kids, I wouldn’t want to not be there for them either.”
She tipped her head back. “When do you want to start a family?”
“In a couple more years maybe. Definitely before you hit thirty-five, otherwise your eggs might all be dried up.”
She poked him in the chest, smirking at his dry humor. “My eggs are just fine, thanks very much. You just worry about your swimmers.”
“You mean my fast-movers.”
“Sure, your fast-movers then,” she said, smiling at the reminder of what he’d said to Cam yesterday morning. Laying her head against his sturdy shoulder, she snuggled deeper into his embrace, already feeling closer to him than she had in a long time. “And what about my job?”
He stroked a hand over her hair. “If you really want to get out that badly, then you should get out.”
The words sent a wave of relief washing over her. “What if I can’t find anything I want to do once I get out?”
“Then we’ll handle it when the time comes. Clamp down a little tighter with the finances until you do find something.”
She wound her arms around him, tightened them, a sense of peace blanketing her. “Thank you.”
“Welcome. We good now?”
The hopeful note in his voice, along with the hot gleam in his eyes when she glanced up at him, made her smile. Such a guy, wanting to get straight to the make-up sex portion of the evening. “Yes. We’re good.”
“Great. Now come here.” He scooped her up and turned her, the muscles in his shoulders and chest bunching as he reached up to take her face between his hands. So sexy. “I love you more than anything, and I missed you like hell while I was gone.”
She smiled. He wasn’t very romantic, or flowery with his words, so his saying that to her now meant the world to her. “I missed you more.” And for the first time in months, she felt like they were finally in sync again instead of teetering on the edge of disaster. The relief was huge.
Now she wanted the special intimacy that only their physical connection could bring.
Bracing her hands on his broad shoulders, she bent and covered his lips with hers. He nipped at her lower lip, ran his tongue across it then sucked gently, his hands framing her face, taking complete control.
She sighed and made a soft purring sound as she opened for him, hungry for more of the heat he’d ignited in her. Just as things were starting to get interesting, she jolted when the fire alarm blared to life.
Ryan stilled and lifted his head, instantly on alert.
Coming up on her knees, she looked up at the ceiling and inhaled deeply. There was no smoke and the air seemed clean. “Smell anything?”
“No.” He rolled out from under her and peeked out the window. “Don’t see anything.”
“Must be a false alarm. Come back here.” She grabbed his shoulder and turned him back toward her.
Grinning, he resumed his former position beneath her and cupped his hands around her breasts, his thumbs brushing over the hard, sensitive tips.
“My sexy wife.” He kissed the side of her neck, the brush of his beard making her tingle all over despite the continued blare of the fire alarm.
“Just ignore it and focus on me.” He turned her face back to his, slanted his mouth across hers before skimming his way over her jaw, to her throat.
“Mmm...” She tipped her head back to give him more room, running her hands over his bare back. The sheer power of him never failed to get her hot.
Ryan rolled her over onto her back and blanketed her with his weight, the hard ridge of his erection pressing against the aching spot between her legs.
She sighed and threaded her fingers into his hair, letting her eyes drift close, the sound of the fire alarm fading beneath the rush of desire.
Something flickered against her closed eyelids.
Her body went rigid as she opened her eyes and saw the yellow-orange glow flickering through the window. “Ryan.” She pushed at his shoulder.
At the urgency in her voice he sat up and reached for the blind covering the window, shoving it aside to look down. A second later, she smelled it. Faint, but unmistakable.
Smoke.
Ryan jumped off the bed and pulled on his underwear. “Something’s burning down there,” he said, reaching for his jeans. “Get dressed, we’re evacuating.”
After yanking on his boots, Ryan unlocked their door and opened it to check the hallway. The moment he did the scent of smoke grew stronger, and there was a faint haze in the air. Maya and Jackson’s door opened, and Jackson stuck his head out.
“Not a false alarm,” Ryan told him. “Meet you guys outside?”
“Yeah.” Jackson slammed the door shut behind him.
Ryan ducked back inside and turned to Candace, who was pulling on a sweater. “We should go.”
Calm but decisive, his wife hurried to the dresser across the room to grab some things. “I’ll get our IDs and wallets. You get the weapons.”
Good call. Leaving live ammo in a fire wasn’t an awesome idea. He went to the closet, grabbed his jacket and the hunting gear Wade had loaned him.
Candace was pulling on her shoes when he met her at the door. “Any idea where it is or how far it’s spread?” she asked.
“Definitely on the ground floor at our end of the building. Not sure how big it is yet.” Just as he said it the emergency sprinkler system activated overhead, spraying them with cold water.
“Come on,” he said, pulling open the door, rifle in hand and the rest of his gear in the backpack slung over his shoulder.
She stepped into the hallway and turned right, toward the far end of the hall opposite where the flames were, where that stairwell would hopefully be clear.
Maya and Jackson appeared behind them a few moments later.
There were only four rooms per floor, and no one answered when Ryan pounded on the others, so there was no one else to warn and clear out.
The smoke grew thicker every second, the blare of the fire alarm echoing off the walls and ceiling. He moved in front of Candace as they neared the far stairwell door and opened it to check that it was safe. The lights were still on inside and the air was clearer here.
“Clear.” Ryan took the lead, with Candace behind him, then Maya and Jackson bringing up the rear.
They were almost to the third floor when the stairwell door there shoved open to reveal Wade, Erin, Cam, and Dev.
“This is sure an exciting wedding trip you two’ve got going on here so far,” he said to Wade.
Wade grunted and held the door for the others while holding his rifle, his own gear packed into a duffel in his free hand. “I was hoping for a lot less excitement, believe me.”
“Yeah, us too,” Devon muttered as she entered the stairwell, the soles of her running shoes slapping against the concrete steps.
Together they headed for the second floor, slowing to allow other guests ahead of them to file down the concrete steps and toward the exit on the first floor.
An elderly couple wearing the resort’s robes and slippers were the first to leave the building, then a younger couple with their small daughter, followed by a middle-aged woman and her poodle.
When it was finally their turn, Ryan neared the door and glimpsed the flames at the opposite end of the building. They were already halfway up the front of it and climbing toward their room.
“We’re good.” He held the door open that led to the flagstone patio outside, watching the flames licking at the wooden exterior while Candace and the others filed past him into the open.
The moment he released the door and stepped outside, the unmistakable crack of a rifle filled the air. He froze, automatically scanning to see where it had come from.
More cracks rang out, and a bullet smashed into the front of the building two yards away from him.
Shit.
People screamed and scattered in different directions. Reacting on pure instinct, Ryan gripped his rifle and immediately turned for his wife.
Candace was already looking for cover. He caught her around the ribs and took her to the ground, shielding her with his larger body, one hand wrapped around the back of her head to protect her skull from the impact.
As they hit the hard surface of the stone patio, a hot, burning pain lanced through his right upper arm and tore across his ribs.