Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
SLOANE
H e hesitates at the shower door, turning back as I drop my hand away from him. I don’t want him to go. I know I should let him. We’ve been around and around with this thing between us, like the water circling the drain beneath our feet. But it seems I’ll never learn.
The only way to quit him will be once I’m away from him.
It’s new to me to have an addiction to something. To harbor a craving so bone-deep that I can’t breathe against the sting of it.
“Wash my hair?” I ask him, turning my back to him. Biting my lip, I hope he takes the bait and relaxes some. I understand that he’s never been in this position before, naked, with a woman. But I can’t help but want to soak up the feeling of his presence while I can.
The fog behind me shifts as he turns back and grabs past my arm for the shampoo, brushing my skin and causing goosebumps to rise against the hot water.
His hands are corded with veins and muscles, gentle when they’re on me, and as I hear the shampoo bottle release soap into his hand, I await their touch again.
My eyes close as he works the suds through my hair, tugging every bit to clean it.
“Are you afraid of what’s next?” I ask him, eyes rolling back as he massages my scalp.
I can’t help the deep throb down below, even if I’d only just come upon waking.
“What do you mean? The afterlife?”
I smirk. Of course, a man like him, with his accolades, would think that’s what I meant.
“No. What comes after this cabin, I meant.”
A deep sigh comes from a place of unease in his chest. “Sometimes. But I fear what’ll happen if we never leave this cabin.”
I chuckle. “If we never leave this cabin, real life doesn’t have to resume.”
“That’s true,” he says, turning me back to face him before tipping my head back to rinse the suds from my hair.
I close my eyes, the feeling of the water rushing warmth through my scalp and down my spine.
“You’re so beautiful,” Luca says, his hands traveling down my neck and over my shoulders.
I open my eyes against the beads of water on my lashes.
His face is chiseled, almost stoic, but his eyes are soft and kind. They’re the warmest brown I’ve ever seen, and it’s almost like you can see the profound intelligence behind them, floating just below the surface. I’ll dream of his soft lips with the tiniest bowtie curvature long after this cabin.
I reach up, running my hand through his hair. “When did you go grey?”
He’s very young for his shiny silver hair growing off his head, and his dark eyebrows tell that he wasn’t always a silver fox.
“Early in my twenties. It’s hereditary. My dad was grey early, too.”
I nod. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him mention his father. I’ve listened to him speak to his brother and mother on the phone. They’re often calling and checking on him. They’re frustrated he won’t give them any information on what’s been going on, but doing so would put them in danger, too.
Neither of us wants that.
“Your father is gone?” I ask. He’d spoken of him in the past tense.
He nods. “Been gone awhile now.”
I don’t ask how. I don’t do too well with death. Even though I’ve witnessed much of it, it feels so ominous. It’s like a concept I’d rather ignore than let turn in my brain.
I grab the shampoo bottle and squeeze some into my hand.
Luca drops to one knee before me, allowing me to reach his hair easily.
It’s a mistake, honestly. I fumble with the shampoo when I place it back on the built-in shelving because he is close to my bare center. I can nearly feel the heat of his breath against it.
Focusing entirely on my task, I wash his hair and then step back when finished. He rinses it, and I watch as soap cascades down his spine and over the perfect mount of his ass.
Women dream of an ass like that, round and perfect.
He turns, and I flit my eyes back to where they’re supposed to be. We quickly wash and rinse, with no more banter to fill the space with words.
The heat in the shower grows exponentially overwhelming by the second, and it’s not the hot water.
When I got out and toweled off, Luca was already gone and headed for his bedroom.
Leaning over the counter and staring at myself in the hazy mirror, I heave air into my lungs.
I have to get out of here. Soon.
There isn’t much more of this I can take. Even with all the stupid things we’ve both let happen, there’s a throbbing ache between my legs that begs for more. It begs for him to throw his life away and fuck into me to quench this hunger.
I decide to dress in running shoes and a matching top, slipping into sneakers so that I can run. I know I’ll have one of Ardesia’s men trailing me, but the sun is shining outside the cabin, and I have a feeling if I don’t soak it up, the chance will pass.
Not having an ache from dancing the night before feels weird, and I long to feel alive and thoroughly used.
The thought dies as I enter the kitchen. Luca turns, muscles rippling on his stomach, and he brings me over a plate with a bagel and a cup of coffee.
I swallow, trying not to count just how many abs are taut beneath the thin layer of dark hair littering his flesh. His low-slung pajama pants sit right above the most sinful of treasures, and I have to scold myself inwardly to turn the thoughts around.
“Thank you,” I say, sitting and sipping my coffee immediately, letting it race for my neurons and blood.
“You’re welcome,” he replies, standing at the counter, eating his bagel, and sipping from a water bottle.
“You going for a run?” he asks, looking me over.
I nod. “I am. I’ll take one of the men with me.”
He shakes his head. “I’m certain they’ll love that.”
I shrug. “I need to exercise. My muscles feel useless since I haven’t been dancing.”
His eyes flare at the memories of me on the dance floor, most likely. I fight a smirk.
Torturing him in the private room was one of my favorite moments at work, if I’m honest, and I’d love to give him a dance where he’s not resisting me.
I lick the cream cheese from my lips and clear my throat.
Luca turns back around and finishes the rest of his breakfast in silence. I’m thankful.
I don’t know how far I run. All I know is that Rich isn’t happy about it. He trails behind in tactical gear, breaths heaving, and his heavy footfalls thundering over the small trail I’d found, likely a game trail.
“Are you alright?” I ask as I slow to a walk.
We’re headed back now, not because I’m tired, but because I don’t want to take the man out.
I smirk at the thought as he catches up, holding his side as if there’s a stitch in it.
“I’m fine, Ms. Sloane. Thank you for asking.” His words are snide, telling me he’s annoyed about being dragged out for a run.
He’s in good shape but not in cardio shape.
“How’d you get saddled with this job?” I ask him, trying to converse pleasantly as we head for the cabin. I feel bad. I didn’t realize how much he was struggling to keep up.
My mind had cleared after the first five minutes of running, and all I could do was relish in the burn of muscles heating and joints aching. It felt so good.
It’s what I needed.
“We volunteered to watch you. The boss said he wouldn’t force us to go, as the cabin is a world of its own, and some guys would go mad being out here.”
“But not you?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No. I thought it would be an adventure.”
His New York accent makes me miss home even more.
I pat his arm softly. “Well, thank you. Sorry, I made you run through the woods.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “Seems I’m not in the shape I thought I was.”
I shrug. “Eh, you have, like, fifty pounds of gear on. Not entirely your fault.”
He smiles. His bright blue eyes contrast his dark hair and full cheeks, which are likely hereditary. He is tall and built for combat, but not running.
“Maybe I’ll need to train in my gear. You might’ve saved my ass by showing me how out of shape I am,” he tells me.
The cabin comes into view up ahead, and I nod toward it. “I’ll see you later, hm? You need any water?”
He shakes his head. “Our post isn’t far into the woods over there. I’ll get some myself. Have a good day, Ms. Sloane.”
“You too, Rich.”
I run toward the porch, where Luca sits on the cushioned bench with a book in his hands. It looks like his trusty bible, with worn leather and discolored pages.
“Good run?” he asks, and I nod, taking the steps in twos as I land in front of him.
“Rich!” a man shouts, and I turn around. Luca’s face pales, and he drops his bible and runs down the steps barefoot.
Rich collapses on the ground before the treeline across from the cabin.
My heart roars in my chest, clouding my hearing as I approach him at a run.
The other man is ripping his gear off and starting chest compressions. “Goddamnit, I told you I’d go with her, you stubborn fucking mule!”
“What’s wrong with him?” Luca asks as I drop beside Rich’s head.
“He has a heart condition. He has had it since birth. I told him one of us would run with her, but he didn’t want to listen. He loves to push the edge since the doctors say he won’t live as long as anyone else.”
He stops compressions and checks Rich’s pulse.
“We need help,” I plead, tears falling down my face like a running river.
“We’re too far from help,” the man says, sitting back on his haunches as I take up his place and begin the same compressions I saw him doing.
“Help him!” I cry. “What are you doing? Why did you stop? Help him!”
The man looks at Luca with a sad face, as if I’m the problem. It was as if I was the crazy one when he stopped trying to bring Rich back.
“Little dove, he’s gone,” Luca says, hand on my arm.
“Why would he go with me if he knew this could happen?” I ask.
“He always did shit like that. If he went out doing something he wanted, so be it. Rich wasn’t scared of shit, or at least, he wanted to give off that he wasn’t.”
“What do we do?” I whimper, eyes flooding with more tears as I look at Luca.
Luca leans over Rich, making the cross sign on his forehead with his thumb. “Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May he rest in peace. Amen. May almighty God bless us with his peace and strength, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.”
“Amen,” the other man says, and I echo the sentiment for Rich’s sake.
“We’ll deal with his body,” the man says.
“What is your name?” I ask him.
He looks between me and Luca before saying, “John.”
“John. Where will you bury him? Here?”
He looks down at his fallen comrade, and his brows crawl together. “I think so. He thought this was going to be his grand adventure. What a more enchanting location could there be for him to find peace and rest?”
“I’d like to be present when he’s laid to rest.” Guilt fills my stomach at the thought I’d made him run with me. I caused his death.
As if Luca knows why I’m reeling, he lays his hand on my arm.
“We’ll do it near sunset, then,” John replies.
Luca helps me up, and we head for the cabin. I can’t look back at the man being hefted off the ground by his fellow family members. Even if they’re not blood relatives, the Riccis are all family once made.
And I’d just stolen a member from them. Unwittingly, but still.