Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Keira
When I woke in the morning and blinked at the ceiling, there was no moment of confusion. I knew exactly where I was. Remembered everything, every minute of yesterday.
Holding on for dear life while that SUV tried to force us off the road. The way Dean held me afterward, breathing me in, his touch lingering on my skin.
Yes, I’d noticed.
Then how he drove me out here to the house he somehow owns. Even though he’d told me he’s the wandering type, never staying in one place too long.
Now that Dean was back in Hart County, I understood him even less than before.
I sat up against the soft pillows, feeling the layers of cozy blankets pool around my waist. My gaze landed on the framed poster on the wall across from me.
Gardenias.
I mean, really? An art print featuring my favorite flower? Hanging in this bedroom that he never slept in?
What was this man’s deal?
I had no clue if all this meant something or nothing at all. Like the way he kept insisting he cared about me, would actually kill the people who’d hurt me, and yet he still kept me at a distance.
The man was exasperating.
And I wanted him so, so badly. Wanted to wake up beside him, with his arms wrapping me up instead of these blankets. Wanted his body pressed against me, making me light up and feel alive after we could’ve died yesterday.
But none of that was ever going to happen.
“And that’s enough wallowing for one morning,” I said to the room.
Now, it was time for a little spying. I had to get some benefit out of staying here, right? What else did Dean expect, leaving me on my own down here while he squirreled away upstairs?
I was eager for any small clues to him that I could get. Clearly it was some kind of sickness on my part.
I got out of bed and poked around the rest of the room. Last night, I’d been exhausted and went right to sleep, secure in the knowledge that Dean was close by. But now, I had the time and energy to check things out. And he couldn’t stop me.
I opened up the armoire, finding it nearly empty.
Dean wasn’t keeping his clothes in here, which I supposed made sense if this wasn’t his room.
In all the time I’d known him, he had tended to live out of his suitcases, even after he’d been living in an apartment for a year.
An obvious clue about that nomadic tendency of his, which I had chosen to ignore.
And yet, he’d also apparently bought this house.
Whatever. Trying to understand Dean Reynolds was a fruitless exercise.
On the dresser, he’d left a small stack of clothes. He must’ve put them here last night when I was in the bathroom. I was in my underwear right now, since I hadn’t bothered thinking about pajamas.
I put on a long-sleeved shirt along with a pair of basketball shorts that hung low on my hips.
Then fit my sling back over my head and around my left arm.
Thank goodness I would be able to ditch it in another couple of weeks, if the doctor agreed I was still making good progress.
Hopefully all that rattling around in the truck yesterday when we were fleeing for our lives wouldn’t be an issue.
Probably best not to mention our dramatic getaway to my physical therapist or doctor.
The bedroom was disappointingly devoid of anything else interesting. Dean had created a tasteful yet anonymous guest room despite not expecting any guests. Or having a bed of his own to sleep in.
After a quick visit to the bathroom, where I brushed my teeth and pulled my curls back into a poof, I ventured into the kitchen. The sound of running water whooshed overhead, which must’ve been coming from the bathroom upstairs.
Dean was showering.
I thought of him naked up there, water running over his muscles, that shaggy hair hanging into his face as his hands glided over his body…
Coffee. That was what I needed. A jolt of caffeine to hopefully break through that stream of images of Dean getting all soaped up in the shower.
The kitchen was pretty well stocked, as I’d seen yesterday. The coffeemaker was a standard brand, same one I had at home. Within a few minutes I had it gurgling.
The water was still going upstairs. And I did not need to be thinking about what else he might be doing in the shower.
I headed into the open living space. A wall had been torn down between two rooms here, and everything was still unfinished and mid-construction. Nothing much of interest.
But in a closet, I hit pay dirt.
Two cardboard boxes were stashed here. Finally, something of Dean’s that I could shamelessly poke through like the nosy cop that I was.
The first box held paperwork. Tax-return type stuff, not what I’d been after. Even I wasn’t that shameless about invading his privacy. I set the box aside.
But the second box held books. Fair game.
I sifted through the titles on top. Mysteries, thrillers, classics. There was a well-thumbed paperback of Catch 22. Something I’d always meant to read. Maybe Dean would let me borrow it.
Then, while I was flipping through a sci-fi epic, a folded piece of paper fell out.
I picked up the folded paper from the floor. Opened it.
And my heart squeezed.
It was a photo of us. Me and Dean, smiling together on some random afternoon in Owen’s backyard. No, actually I remembered this day. We’d gone to a barbecue there. Just a casual get-together, full of friends from the station and Last Refuge.
In the photo, Dean was leaning into me. I was touching his arm. We looked like a couple. We’d been so close then, and I’d been dreaming of more.
I’d somehow convinced myself Dean would stay in Hart County forever. Be in my life forever.
My eyes stung, and nausea rose in my throat.
The creases in the paper were all worn, like he’d folded and unfolded it countless times. Who even printed out photos anymore, then kept them inside a book like this?
It was so stupid. I was stupid for ever believing Dean could be mine.
And the fact that he had this, stashed away in this weird secret house of his, was just one strike too far. I wanted an explanation for all of this. All of it. I was tired of his mysteriously vague non-answers.
Maybe I’d been sweet, naive Keira two years ago. But I wasn’t anymore. I was tough, and I didn’t put up with shit.
“You’re going to tell me what the hell all this is about,” I muttered as I marched toward the stairs.
On the upstairs landing, I didn’t slow. Just kept striding from one doorway to the next. The bathroom was vacant, the mirror all fogged up with steam.
He wasn’t in the first bedroom I reached. Which left the second, the room at the very end of the hall.
The door was partway open, so I barreled in, shoving the door wider. “Dean, I want to know why—”
The sentence dried on my tongue as I got an eyeful of him standing there.
Several things became evident at once.
Dean had just gotten out of the shower. In fact, his towel was still falling to the floor with a soft sound. Beads of water slid from his hair down his shoulders and along the slope of his spine.
Also, he was completely naked. Two firm butt cheeks were right there, searing into my brain matter.
His face was not the only spot on his body that had dimples.
If I’d been more dignified, I might’ve calmly backed up and averted my eyes. Instead, I screamed. Which made Dean jolt and start turning around to face me, in all his naked glory, and holy shit that was Dean’s cock.
My hand clapped over my eyes. “Oh, fuck me. Fuck. I am so sorry.”
I didn’t usually curse this much. But I also didn’t tend to walk in when a man was undressed.
Buck naked. I’d seen everything.
There was a shuffling sound. “Towel’s back on. I should’ve closed the door, but I didn’t think you’d—”
“No, I really shouldn’t have—”
“It’s okay, Keira.” There was amusement in his voice. While my heart was sprinting and my skin was on fire. “What did you need?”
“It’s nothing. I’ll just, um, downstairs—” I started backing up. Stumbled.
Then a thick arm closed around my waist, and my eyes popped open. Dean was right there, heat and steam radiating from him.
“You might want to uncover your eyes before you attempt the staircase.”
“Right. Good idea. You can…” I swallowed. “I’ll go now.”
But he didn’t take his arm from my waist. Instead, a bead of water slid from his temple to his lip, and he licked it. I glanced down and saw his pink nipples, which I’d somehow missed staring at before. Probably because my eyes had been lower, on places now covered by his towel.
Gah.
And then, as I forced my gaze higher again, I saw the blue fire smoldering in his irises. Waves of something languid and heady rolled through my veins.
“I should go,” I breathed.
He nodded. It was still a full five seconds before he let go of me and stepped back. “Yeah,” he said, voice husky and low.
I turned around and made my retreat, only realizing when I was back in the kitchen that I’d dropped the photo somewhere upstairs. Along with my dignity.
Dean’s body was thick in all the right places. Not much hair on his chest or stomach, but what was there accentuated his athletic frame. I’d seen him shirtless before, years ago, but the full effect of his body was different. Dark curls had framed his soft, cut cock.
What would it look like when he was hard? How would the weight of it feel in my hand?
I was about to combust.
About five minutes later, Dean came down wearing jeans and a T-shirt. His damp hair was tied back.
I’d mostly calmed down and stopped visualizing his naked body. Mostly. I pushed a mug of coffee toward him, avoiding his eyes. “I’m really, really sorry about barging in on you.”
“I’m not that modest. Not a big deal.”
Yet when I glanced up at him, that sharp, hot look he’d given me earlier hadn’t faded much. He pulled the photo of us from his pocket. “You found this? That’s what you wanted to ask me about?”
“I changed my mind. I don’t need to know.” Some questions were better not having the answers to.
“Keira—”
“Can you drive me back to Hartley? I really need to get home. Sleeping here last night was just a precaution. Right? The coast is clear now.”
He studied me. “I’ll take you home. We can check your house, make sure there’s no reason for concern. Could someone stay with you tonight? Brynn? I’ll feel better if I know you’re not alone.”
“Probably.” I could give her a call later, but I wasn’t excited about the thought of keeping so much from her.
But I’d figure that out later. Staying under the same roof with this man any longer was going to do me in.