Chapter Twelve
Thankfully, the combo of extra sleep, a hot shower, and some prescription meds—and okay, definitely Wes too—banish the last traces of the migraine overnight. I’m awake an hour before my alarm, unsurprising with a four-hour nap in the mix.
Instead of getting up right away, I watch the blinking light on the smoke detector above my head. What the hell happens now? Wes kissed me last night. Bought me dinner, kissed me, and then gave me probably the best orgasm I’ve ever had with a guy.
And then he just…left.
It’s exactly what I’d expect from him. Or it was, before all those kisses that felt far more like a promise than a conquest. He didn’t exactly treat me like a hookup last night.
He took care of me, was sweeter than any guy I’ve been with, not to mention the very obvious fact that he got me off without expecting anything.
And not in the way that’s happened to me before, with promises and assurances they just wanted to give me pleasure, only to sulk when I didn’t take it upon myself to return the favor.
And there was that moment, that cozy, intimate moment that felt so good, so right. I was the one who got overwhelmed and turned it into something else. I was the one who asked him to touch me. Wes waited for my cues.
Was it just pity? Another of his games? It felt real. It sounded real when he murmured darlin’ over my skin like a prayer.
The amount of energy I’m putting into this particular thought spiral over his motivations is exactly why I’ve avoided what happened last night for so long.
Determined to carry on like normal, I yawn my way through getting dressed and, one quick google later, find a local café with decent reviews.
I load up on coffee, breakfast sandwiches, and a couple of pastries for the road, and then text Wes for his room number once I’m back in the hotel parking lot.
My mind blanks when he opens the door wearing only a towel and a smirk.
“Just got out of the shower,” he says unnecessarily, water droplets clinging to his chest and disappearing into the towel clutched at his hip.
There’s a faint line of ink peeking out just above the towel, another tattoo I haven’t seen yet.
“Breakfast.” The one-word greeting is all I can manage with a desert in my throat before jerking out the hand holding his coffee.
The sight of Wes, ink shimmering on his wet skin, grinning at me before taking a sip of coffee and letting out a little satisfied groan, should be illegal.
Especially after leaving me with the mental image of him taking care of himself last night.
I’m a case of arson in the making if the heat in my cheeks is anything to go by.
“Unless you want to be breakfast, I’m goin’ to need you to stop lookin’ at me like that,” he says in a lazy, exaggerated drawl that reminds me far too much of last night.
Only half paying attention, I follow a water droplet as it sinks down, down, down his chest and abdomen. Maybe I wouldn’t mind returning last night’s favor.
“Sloane.” It’s more of a growl than my name and far sexier than it has any right to be.
I jerk my eyes up. “You’re the one who answered the door like that.” I slip past the open bathroom door to perch on the edge of the unmade bed. “Could have at least put on some damn pants.”
Wes is still laughing when he steps into the bathroom, leaving the door cracked. “How’s the morning refresh looking?”
I take a sip of my coffee and double check the forecast on my phone, something in me easing at how normal he’s acting. Maybe he really did mean it last night that he wasn’t expecting anything in return. “Decent,” I call back, willing my body to settle.
Whatever may or may not be happening between us, I can’t let it interfere.
I’ve spent far too many years watching my mom drop everything else in her life for the sake of a man.
I’ll be damned if I turn into her now. In fact, what I should do is tell Wes in no uncertain terms that last night was a mistake.
But then he emerges from the bathroom, unreasonably attractive in a pair of hiking shorts that show off the high curve of his ass and a snug black T-shirt. He props himself up in the doorframe and continues to rub his hair with the towel. “Still thinking Kansas?”
“Somewhere between Dodge City and Wichita is probably our best bet.”
“We can grab lunch in Dodge and decide from there. Could get crowded today.”
I make a face, but he’s right. There’s a higher-than-usual chance of tornadoes in the area we’re targeting.
Combine that with a good road network and fairly flat elevation, and a chaser convergence is all but guaranteed.
Navigating around a hundred other chasers is less than ideal and can quickly turn dangerous, but it’s also the kind of forecast that might get me something Nature Shots worthy.
Wes tosses the towel into the bathroom and prowls over, holding out his hand. He pulls me easily to my feet when I take it and instantly wraps me in his arms. “Forgot to say good morning,” he breathes into my ear before lowering his mouth to mine.
Despite the confident way he moves in, there’s the slightest hesitation before his lips touch mine.
Maybe I’m not the only one with questions, which weirdly helps me relax.
I give in to the pleasure of the kiss, melting into him as it deepens into white-hot need.
It’s as if the years we’ve spent bickering have been a kind of foreplay building in the background, and now that we’ve broken the seal, all that pent-up desire is rushing out.
Not that we have time to indulge in it right now.
Squeezing the dip of my waist with a rueful grin, Wes reluctantly lets go. “We should get on the road.”
I grab my coffee and nod with an awkward jerk of my head. “We can eat in the car,” I say, refusing to look at the bed and all the bad but wonderful ideas it represents.
“Good idea.” I’m not the only one a little breathless. Wes shoves his hands in his pockets, almost as if he needs to physically prevent himself from reaching for me.
“Sloane,” he calls when I’ve got my hand on the door, one foot already in the hallway. He waits until I turn to look at him, grins his wicked grin, and gestures to my—his—sweatshirt. “You look good in my clothes.”
By the time we roll into Dodge City, we’re far from the only chasers in town. I try to hide my excitement when I spot a few of the research trucks with their distinctive government agency logos and roofs full of equipment parked near the back of the gas station we pull into.
“Always a good sign when those guys are in the area.” Wes pumps a fist in the air before grabbing his phone. “Let me see if anyone I know is around.”
“How’d you end up making friends with the meteorologists?” I ask curiously. The researchers tend to keep to themselves for the most part.
“Did some work on one of their projects last year.”
I blink back my surprise. No one said a word last season. Wild Wes and a methodical research team aren’t exactly the type of pairing I’d expect, but then again, he hasn’t been nearly as wild as his reputation implies since we’ve been on the road together.
Or maybe he’s just on his best behavior with me.
Unease settles into my thoughts. Kissing Wes was so natural, so right, that my doubts faded easily into the background.
Now that we’ve been back in the car for a couple of hours, I can’t help wondering what the hell I was thinking.
In all the years I’ve known him, he’s never had a girlfriend so much as a series of hookups, flings, and rumors.
But this isn’t the time—or place—to have a heart-to-heart. I take a long drink of water, shove my worries aside, and pocket my keys after locking the car.
Jealousy curdles in my stomach when Wes beelines for two attractive women and introduces me.
Chloe is wearing a National Weather Service jacket, the deep navy color suiting her dark hair and olive complexion.
The rest of her clothes are similar to mine, hair piled in a messy bun and her smile friendly.
Haley is a petite and curvy blonde in a faded University of Oklahoma hoodie, a long braid falling over one shoulder.
“Wes has told me so much about you. I’ve been meaning to get in touch,” Chloe says warmly and then holds up her left hand, sunlight sparkling off her engagement ring.
“Your work is gorgeous. I’m not sure I can afford you, but any chance you’re free to come to Oklahoma in September?
We’re not planning anything too fancy, just a small thing at a local park. ”
Finding out that Wes has been shamelessly plugging my wedding work sends the little green monster in my head slinking back into her cave. Especially when he props one elbow on my shoulder, effectively using me as an affectionate armrest.
I glance up at him, relaxing under the warmth of his gaze, and pull up my admittedly busy calendar.
My website says I’m fully booked, but there’s usually room to squeeze someone in if they can be flexible.
“September might be tough, but if you’re okay with something other than a Friday or Saturday night, I can probably make it work. ”
Chloe lets out a squeal of delight, earning a laugh from her friend. Haley gives her a playfully chiding look before turning to me with mock seriousness. “Don’t let her monopolize you with wedding talk.”
“Oh, I don’t mind. Always happy to help another chaser out if I can,” I add with a wink.
I’ve never shot a wedding for another storm chaser, but Chloe doesn’t need to know that.
Government employees aren’t exactly raking in the cash, and all of us out here rely on their forecasting.
I can afford to cut her a deal, and besides that, it would be a nice break from the glitz and glam weddings.
“Heard about the new job,” Wes says to Haley, offering a friendly smile. “LA is a big step up. Congrats.”
She makes a face and exchanges a look with Chloe. “Yeah, it’s a huge opportunity, but I doubt I’ll be able to get as much time off for chasing. The schedule is crazy.”