14 - Colson
COLSON
Paradise.
I felt guilty for enjoying it. Annoyed at myself every time I let my guard down, even for a moment, because a moment was all it would take for Donovan’s men to get the jump on us.
But it’s been days now, and we’ve covered our tracks. We’d made all the right moves. Put up all the right safeguards.
If we hadn’t, we’d be dead already.
All the more reason to enjoy things now, while we’re still ahead.
The smell of honeysuckle wafted in on the cool night breeze, as I stood barefoot on the smooth wooden deck.
Everything was peaceful, here. Serene. Everything except the storm in my head, swirling with conflicting thoughts.
I’d swam in the ocean. I’d drank rum from the bottle.
I’d slept like a baby, six or eight hours at a clip, because even the air here betrayed my usual vigilance in its own, seductive way.
And that’s not all that was seductive.
Peyton.
No matter what I did, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. She lingered in the back of my head, even when she wasn’t gliding past me, half-dressed, smelling of jasmine, and vanilla, and—
“Soo… what kind of Chinese food do you like?”
Her presence surprised me. The question, even more. I turned my head to find her standing beside me, back arched, leaning over the railing. I followed her gaze, and together we looked out over the shimmering, moonlit water.
“I guess I’d have to say lemon chicken,” I played along.
Her sleep shirt was so loose-fitting it bared both slender, oil-bronzed shoulders. The sun had been good to her, these past few days. She walked the beach like she belonged here.
“Lemon chicken’s not bad,” she allowed with a chuckle. “Me, I’m a noodle girl. Lo Mein, Mei Fun. Oh, and I’m a slut for some steamed dumplings.”
She pushed back from the railing and turned to face me, a slender hand guiding that long blonde hair behind one beautifully-formed ear. She did it so casually, it made my stomach drop.
“Are you craving Chinese food, all of a sudden?”
Peyton shrugged a bare shoulder. “I’m craving a lot of things.”
Those almond-shaped eyes gave me a slow, deliberate once-over. I could feel something warm, unraveling inside me.
“You don’t sleep much, do you?”
“No,” I admitted.
“Constantly watching,” she sighed. “Keeping us safe.”
It wasn’t a question, so I didn’t answer.
Besides, I was too lost in those smoldering blue eyes.
I’d fought so hard to forget about her tonight, to push all thoughts of her from my mind.
And now here she was, half-dressed, the soft hem of her T-shirt dangling tantalizingly around the smooth tops of those bare, supple thighs.
“What made you do it, Colson?”
The question snapped me back from my exhilarating, three-second fantasy.
“Do what?”
“Go against Donovan,” she murmured. “Finally break free of him.”
I shook my head. “We’re far from free of him.”
“No, not yet,” she allowed. “But after this, there’s no going back for you. And I know your options are already limited.”
My brow furrowed. I tilted my head.
“What do you mean by that?”
I expected her to retreat; for Peyton’s expression to show that she’d revealed too much. Instead, she pressed forward, closing the distance between us.
“Donovan told me about you,” she said simply.
“He did? Why?”
“I asked.”
At this distance, her scent washed over me like a warm breeze. I could make out finer details, too. The sheen of her hair, freshly brushed before bed. How naturally beautiful she looked, even without a lick of makeup.
“You don’t know me,” I refuted. “Donovan doesn’t know me either.”
“I know you’re from Henderson,” she went on. “You joined the Marines the day of your seventeenth birthday. It’s all you ever wanted to do.”
I felt abruptly angry. Not at her, but at Donovan Prescott. I couldn’t begrudge the man for doing his due diligence, especially in his position. But these details were disquietly intimate. They belonged to me, and me alone.
“I know you were dishonorably discharged,” she added softly. “You knocked out some high-ranking officer with even higher connections. Shattered his jaw. I’m not sure why, though….”
She paused, reluctant to continue. But I needed to know the full extent of Donovan’s betrayal.
“What else?”
Peyton’s angelic face took on a softer, almost apologetic tone.
“The military was all you knew,” she breathed.
“So you were lost for a while. Wandered aimlessly. And that’s where Donovan came in.
He was willing to take you on, based on your experience alone.
Regardless of being blacklisted everywhere else in the private sector. ”
Unreal. She knew it all — everything but the reason why I’d trashed my career, for the sake of a single punch that was still picking up speed when it hit.
But my God, that punch.
That punch was so fucking worth it.
“I still want to know why?” she asked.
“Why I wired that guy’s jaw shut for sixteen weeks?”
“No,” she smiled slyly. “I mean, why now?”
I sighed and flexed my forearms against the railing. What could I tell her? That watching her walk down the aisle, wearing that thin-lipped smile like armor, broke something inside me? That I couldn’t bear to see something so breathtakingly beautiful — inside and out — marry something so ugly?
Or should I tell her that I sensed her reluctance? That I’d felt an immediate kinship to her; watching her glide forward on feet that moved not because they wanted to, but because they had to?
The wind picked up a little, playing games with her hair. It blew a few strands across her perfect, porcelain face. Without thinking, I reached up and swept them aside.
Peyton’s eyes followed my gentle movement. She was so close, I could smell her skin. Coconut oil. Salt. Four long days of soaking up the sun.
“Never mind,” she spoke softly. “It doesn’t matter why. It only matters that we got away. The both of us. All of us…”
Her hand slid forward and placed a finger against my chest.
“Whatever you did for Donovan makes no difference,” she murmured. “You worked for him because you had to, not because you wanted to.”
I frowned. “That doesn’t absolve me of—”
“He collects people,” she whispered, her eyes pleading. “Discarded people. Broken people. He picks up the pieces and fills in what’s missing.”
Her words landed gently, barely stirring the air. I hardly heard them. I was too fixated on those plump, beautiful lips.
“He collected you,” she murmured. “He collected me…”
I wanted to kiss her. No, I was dying for it. Her body was so close now, and her mouth drew nearer to mine.
It would be easy. So perfect.
So right.
“Colson…”
Where before, her eyes had been unfocused, they now burned with an inner blue fire. An unseen electricity buzzed between us. The finger on my chest became four fingers, then a smooth, warm palm.
“I… I want you to know…”
That palm was roaming now, tracing lightly along my pectoral. Eliciting shivers I couldn’t stop. Ideas I could no longer control.
But I had to keep control. At the moment, control was all I had left.
“Goodnight, Peyton,” I said thickly, forcing the words from my throat.
Then, somehow, I found the strength to walk away.