Chapter 22
Chapter
Twenty-Two
“Busy?” Voodoo asked as he strolled into the living room, where Indigo was curled up in a chair, reading a book.
“Umm, no, not really,” she replied, glancing up. “Working on my Welsh before we do our next lesson.”
When their eyes met, there was that same weird mix of warmth that seemed to seep into his heart, and heat that flooded a little further south.
He didn't just want to claim every inch of her delectable body, he wanted to claim her heart as well.
Wanted all of her, her heart, her body, her trust, her love, he didn't care if it was being greedy, the more time he spent with Indigo, the deeper that craving ran.
But they wouldn't take another step toward a physical relationship until she was ready.
And by ready, he meant giving him express permission, with her words, explicitly, that she wanted him as badly as he wanted her.
Until then, he was more than content to share kisses, hold her in his arms as they slept in his bed, get to know her better, spend his days with her, and help her with her physical therapy, basically soaking up every second with her he could get.
“Perfect,” he said as he crossed the room, ready to scoop her into his arms.
“I can walk,” Indigo protested before he could pick her up.
“Your leg is still healing,” he reminded her. Yes, she was healing faster than a normal person would, faster even than he could have hoped for, but that didn't mean it wasn't still two weeks since she’d almost died.
“Only in your mind,” she said as she gifted him one of her soft smiles. “In reality, I've been able to walk on it for a couple of days now. You're just being overprotective.”
“Better get used to that, because I don’t see it changing any time soon.”
The warning made her giggle, and she reached for him, grasping his shoulders so she could pull him down and kiss him. “I don’t mind. It’s kind of sweet, makes me feel like I matter.”
“You do matter.” More than he’d thought a person he’d known for less than a month could matter to him.
Forming attachments had never been easy for him.
How could it when his own parents didn't love him?
Trusting his team had taken time, and he wasn't sure that without being locked in a cage together for three years, forced to rely only on one another, it ever would have developed to the depths of trust that now bound them together.
There had never been anyone else he’d allowed into that inner circle.
Even Rose, Cassandra, and Whitney weren't quite in that circle.
They were close, and he loved them like little sisters, trusted them to love his teammates, the men he considered his brothers, and trusted them to be part of bringing down Dr. Gardner.
“I'm starting to believe that.” She said the words as though they surprised her, but it was also clear that she liked them. A lot.
“If you're going to walk, you go slow, careful, and you tell me if you need a break,” he listed his conditions, and she nodded her acceptance. Really, he’d prefer to carry her, but he also knew that Indigo was tough, strong, and determined.
She’d survived a lot on her own, and he couldn’t attempt to strip her of her independence.
Especially since that same determination was one of the things that had attracted him to her in the first place.
Together they made their way through the mansion’s winding passageways, up three flights of stairs to the top floor.
This was where he and his teammates had their bedrooms, and some other personal spaces.
With so many rooms and only the six of them, now ten of them, living there, there was plenty of space for them to spread out, having some rooms to themselves and others to share.
Leading her to one in particular, he paused before opening the closed door.
“Close your eyes,” he ordered, and while Indigo arched her brows at him, she complied, and he took her hands.
The ease with which she curled her fingers around his filled him with more joy than he thought he could feel over something so small. Only he knew it wasn't really a small thing. Indigo wasn't just holding his hand, she was offering him her trust, and he knew that was a huge thing for her.
Opening the door, he guided her through it, then closed it behind them.
Then he moved so he was at her back, guiding her to lean against his chest. Only then did he tell her she could open her eyes, realizing he was anxiously awaiting her reaction.
It had taken a little while to get this set up, and he was pretty sure that Indigo was going to love it, but she wasn't the only one opening herself up to new possibilities, he was, too.
All his life, he’d worked to earn people’s love and respect and never gotten it from the two people he previously wanted it from the most.
Only he no longer cared about those two people.
His parents were dead to him, even if they wouldn't care even if they knew. Now all he cared about was making this woman happy.
Her gasp told him she’d opened her eyes, but was it a shocked gasp, a happy one, or a disappointed one? Voodoo had no idea.
Unfortunately, Indigo didn't say anything else. Just stood there, her body going stiff in his arms, and the familiar sinking feeling in his gut returned. He’d tried to do something special for her, prove to her that she was never going to regret putting her trust in him, that he was worthy of her trust, but once again he’d fallen short.
Letting his arms drop, he was about to take a step back, apologize for dropping the ball, and promise her he’d do better next time, when her hands flew up to grip his forearms with a strength that shouldn’t have surprised him but did.
“Voodoo,” she whispered, with so much emotion in that one word, and when she wriggled in his hold to turn so she was facing him, he could see her cheeks were wet with tears.
Crying was the last thing he’d wanted to make her do.
Smiling had been what he was going for. Laughter. Anything that indicated she knew he was trying to show her how much she meant to him, and how he wanted to spend the rest of his life trying to make it up to her for all the suffering she’d endured.
“I thought this—”
“Was the most amazing, sweet, thoughtful, caring, considerate, loving thing anyone has ever done for me,” she gushed, grinning so wide that he was surprised it wasn't hurting her cheeks. Maybe it was, and she just hadn't noticed.
“Amazing? Thoughtful? Loving?” he echoed. All of those things were exactly what he’d been feeling when he planned this, what he’d hoped to show her, but he’d been so certain he’d failed.
“Of course. No one had ever done anything like this for me. It’s beautiful, magical, and you remembered what I told you, about the bubbles.” Her eyes still shimmered with unshed tears, but now he was beginning to understand they weren't sad tears, they were happy ones.
“I remember every single thing you say to me, honey,” he told her, and it was completely true. No one had ever cared enough about Indigo to listen to her, until now anyway.
“How did you manage all of this?” Remaining in his arms, she tilted her head back to stare in wonder at the thousands of bubbles filling the room.
“With a little help from the guys. We installed bubble machines in all four corners of the room, and on the floor and ceiling, built them in so you can't see them. There’s a switch by the light switch to turn them on. I thought this could be your special space. You can furnish it however you want, you just tell me, and I’ll get you whatever you want, anything. ”
“This is the absolute nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, and there isn’t even a close runner-up.
” Turning back to face him, she lifted her hands and curled them around the back of his neck, guiding his face down to hers so she could press her lips to his.
“Thank you, Voodoo. For saving my life and not leaving me behind. For listening to me, for caring, and bringing me to your home. For sharing your family with me, for making me feel like I matter for the first time ever.”
Between her words, she dotted kisses to his mouth, and he could feel the heat simmering between them begin to boil over.
“I love you, Voodoo, I don’t care if it’s too soon, or if you don’t feel it back yet. I'm falling in love with you, and I want you to know.”
A growl ripped from his throat before he even realized it. Grabbing her hips, he lifted her and ground her center against the bulge in his pants. “Not falling, already fallen.”
The smile she gave him was everything. “Make love to me, Voodoo.”
And just like that, the thin leash he had on his control snapped.
February 14th
3:21 P.M.
If she was expecting any hesitation, Indigo didn't get any.
Voodoo’s grip on her hips tightened, and he abruptly spun around and headed for the door.
“No, wait!” she cried out, wrapping her legs around his waist as she grabbed his shoulders to steady herself.
“What?” For a second, panic flittered through his gaze, and she could all but feel the recrimination flooding through him and out into the room.
Like he thought he had somehow misread her blatantly clear request, although how he could have done that she had no idea, she’d asked for exactly what she wanted.
“In here,” she said, her hands kneading his shoulders, not wanting any negative emotion, even in passing, into this special room Voodoo had created for her.
Glancing over her shoulder, she saw his gaze roam the room. “There’s no bed.”
“Don’t care.” As if a bed could make this any more special than being here with bubbles floating through the air, a constant—and magically beautiful—reminder of the most thoughtful and loving thing anyone had ever done for her.
There was nowhere else in the world she would rather take this step with Voodoo than in this amazing little cozy cocoon he’d created for her.