4. Felix
CHAPTER 4
FELIX
I can barely make out Letty’s face, but I hear her breath catch.
“You okay?” My hand had instinctively sought hers when the lights went out—whether for her sake or mine, I’m not sure.
“Fine,” she says, her other hand brushing my forearm—just a fleeting touch, but it scorches through the rumble of thunder outside. “Just startled. Storms here can get…intense.”
Tell me about it. My pulse hammers as her warmth spreads through me.
The door to the conference room opens, and a flashlight beam shines over us. Talia’s silhouette appears in the doorway.
“Sorry about this, folks,” she says. “Storm’s knocked out the power. The generator’s running, but it only covers the emergency lighting in the hallways and guest rooms.” She sweeps the flashlight beam over the food on the table. “Don’t worry about the food. I’ll get it cleaned up.”
“I can help…” Letty offers, releasing my hand.
“Nonsense. I insist.” Talia starts stacking the plates.
“Thanks, Talia,” I say. “Save me those leftovers for tomorrow?”
“You got it.” She hesitantly adds, “If you want to keep working, your room should have a lamp or two functioning.” There’s a pause. “If you’re both comfortable with that arrangement, of course.”
A thunderclap shakes the building. Letty’s hand finds my bicep, gripping tight. Christ. Every muscle in my body tenses.
“If it works for Letty, it works for me,” I say, keeping my tone casual despite the riot in my chest.
“Lead the way,” Letty says softly after a few seconds. “We’ve got a project to finish.”
Talia hands me the flashlight. “Be careful on the stairs, now.”
We gather up the various lists and photos, and tuck them all into the folders. The emergency lights cast long shadows when we step into the hallway, turning the familiar inn into something mysterious and intimate.
I lead Letty up the stairs, acutely aware of how close she is following behind me. My prosthetic leg feels heavy—a combination of the stairs, the long day, and my nerves about being alone with her.
My room is at the end of the hall. I fish the key out of my pocket and open the door, ushering Letty in ahead of me. The space is bathed in a soft amber glow from a small lamp on the nightstand—the only one working now that the power’s out.
“Cozy,” Letty says, a breathless edge in her voice.
The room suddenly seems smaller than it did this morning, and I have to fight to get my cock to stand down. The king-sized bed dominates the space, pristinely made with navy blue covers and plump pillows. There’s a small desk by the window, a chair, and not much else. The storm pounds against the glass, lightning occasionally illuminating the room in stark white flashes.
“I’d suggest working at the desk, but the light is better over here,” she says, setting the folders down on the bed. “And we can spread out our materials better that way, too.”
I nod, settling down on the edge of the bed, and she eases down next to me. She sits closer than I expect. This is dangerous.
Our knees brush as we work, and every time the thunder cracks, Letty flinches beside me.
“Not a fan of storms?” I ask softly.
She smiles weakly as she looks up at me, her brown eyes liquid in the lamplight. “It’s more that Jason had a hard time with them. He said they reminded him of mortar fire.” She glances away. “He’d hate seeing me like this.”
I still. “Like what?”
“Scared of my own shadow. Jumping at thunderstorms.” She meets my gaze again, her eyes glistening. “He was…larger than life. Fearless.”
Yes. I know exactly how fearless Gordy was—how he’d charge into firefights grinning like a madman.
“I don’t think fearless has to mean unafraid,” I say carefully. Guilt and grief twist together in my gut with the pressing need to tell her I knew Gordy, but instead I just nod. “It gets better, you know. Not gone, but...manageable.”
She lays a hand on my shoulder, the warmth of her skin sending an electric pulse zipping straight to my cock. “Is that what you did? After...” Her gaze drops to my leg.
I pat the carbon fiber affectionately. “Definitely took some getting used to. First time I showered without it, I face-planted into the tile.”
“Oh god,” she says, wincing.
“Broke my nose, even. Look.” I lean closer, pointing to the faint crook in my bridge and snorting. “Surgeon said it gave me ‘character’.”
Her fingertips brush the scar, and I nearly choke. “I think you’ve got plenty of that already,” she murmurs.
The room tilts as her fingers trace over my jawline. Fuck me.
“Tell me…” She pulls back suddenly as if realizing the intimacy in her touch. “What was the worst part?”
The question guts me. I stare at the lamp for a few long moments, remembering. “Waking up,” I finally murmur. “In the hospital. They’d given me some good drugs, so for a second, I forgot. Then I tried to scratch my ankle…”
She gasps.
“Yeah. Took six orderlies to hold me down when I realized.” I force a smile. “Not my finest moment.”
“So how did you move forward?”
“One day at a time,” I say. “Finding purpose helps. People, too.”
Our project sits forgotten before us. All I can think about is the weight of her hand on my arm, the slight tremble in her fingers, the way her chest rises and falls with each breath.
“We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to,” I say.
“No, I do,” she insists. “It’s just... I don’t talk about any of it much. Not like this.”
I swallow hard. “You can always talk about it with me. Especially about Jason. Tell me more about him.”
Her smile is tinged with sadness but also fondness. “He was so funny. He could make me laugh even on my worst days.” She pauses. “And he loved camping but hated fishing. Said it was too much waiting around, not enough action.”
I nod, memories of Gordy…Jason…complaining about fishing trips flooding back. I should tell her. I need to tell her?—
“What about you?” she asks. “What were you like before…everything?”
The question catches me off guard. Most people don’t differentiate.
“Pretty much the same,” I say honestly. “Maybe less appreciative of small things, and more caught up in the future than the present.” I smile. “ Definitely more of a showoff about having all my body parts.”
She laughs, the sound brightening the dim room, and something in my chest expands. I’d give anything to hear that laugh every day.
Lightning flashes, illuminating her face perfectly for a split second—the soft cheeks, the gentle curve of her lips, the dark hair that cascades over her shoulders. In that moment, I know I’m falling for her.
“You okay?” she whispers, her brow furrowing.
“You’re beautiful, Letty,” I say. It just pops out.
The air between us thickens. Her eyes drop to my lips, and my heart slams in my chest.
“I’m glad you’re here, Felix,” she whispers. “However many limbs. However many scars. The world’s better with you in it.”
Her words hang in the air. Then I surge forward, thunder rattling the windows as I cradle her face. She gasps, and it’s the final straw.
The first brush of my mouth against hers is tentative—a question, maybe a test. But when her nails drag over my shoulders, it transforms into something else entirely.
Heat. Fire. Need.
Her lips part and I deepen the kiss, barely suppressing a groan as her tongue tangles with mine. She tastes like dumplings and sweetness. My body responds instantly, cock throbbing, making me dizzy with want.
The bed creaks under our movements, every rational thought obliterated by the feel of her breasts against my chest.
“Felix,” she rasps, tearing her mouth free. Her lips are swollen, her eyes wild, her chest heaving. She looks like a goddess from one of my wildest dreams. “We?—”
I freeze, panting. “Too much?”
Her hands slide under my shirt, scorching trails up my back. “Not enough.”
The growl that escapes me isn’t human. I claim her mouth again, swallowing her moan as my hands find her bare skin, feeling like fire beneath my palms.
The storm rages outside, but in this dim room, there’s only her breath mingling with mine, her heartbeat thundering against my chest, and the terrifying, exhilarating truth: I want Jason Gordon’s widow.
But there are things she needs to know before this goes any further.
Using all my willpower, I pull back. She blinks at me in confusion, and all I can think is that I’d give anything to kiss her again. To hold her through the storm. To chase away both our ghosts.
“Letty,” I growl, my voice rough with emotion. “There’s something I need to tell you.”