Chapter 13 #2
She took his hand and led him up the stairs. Her father’s light was already off at the far end of the hall, and the apartment was dimly lit. She snuck him into her bedroom and they kept their voices down while they kissed, a bit of desperation fueling her movements.
Once Pax reconciled her need for comfort with his need to respect Mr. Leeland’s home, all bets were off. Bree came first, every time. Besides, even if she didn’t know it yet, he was playing for keeps. She was his one and only.
Mr. Leeland would know that in time, as would Bree.
So the prohibitions in his mind didn’t mean much when it came to giving her what she wanted or needed.
And right now, she needed his lovemaking to show her there was still beauty in the world, alongside the ugliness that had crossed her path today.
This time was nothing like their first time together. That night in the truck bed had been slow. It had been a gentle night of discovery. Two old friends unwrapping years of longing under the stars, with all the time in the world.
Tonight was about need, plain and urgent. She’d reached for him the second her bedroom door clicked shut, pulling his shirt free, her mouth finding his, and all the fear and pent-up longing came rushing in at once.
He met her and matched her. Clothing hit the floor in a trail toward the bed and then her skin was against his, warm and alive, and the ugly weight of the day burned away in the heat between them.
“Quiet,” she breathed against his mouth, half a warning and half a giggle, with a glance toward the door.
“I’m not the one who—”
She stopped his mouth with hers, which was cheating, and also entirely effective.
She pulled him down onto the bed and he went willingly, bracing his weight above her, learning all over again how perfectly she fit against him.
There was no slow build this time. She was ready for him, wet and welcoming, and when he slid inside her, they both stopped breathing, just for a moment. He dropped his forehead to hers.
“Bree.” Just her name. It was all he had.
“I know,” she whispered. “Me too. Now move, sailor.”
He laughed low, right in her ear, and did as his lady commanded.
He loved her hard and deep while she muffled her cries against his shoulder, her nails scoring lines down his back that his shifter healing would erase by morning, more’s the pity.
He drove her up and over the edge, drinking in every hitch of her breath, and followed her into the fire with her name locked behind his teeth.
Mate, his jaguar rumbled, smug as a cat in the cream.
Not now, Pax told it. But the cat didn’t argue the point. Both sides of his nature knew who she was to them.
Afterward, she lay with her back tucked against his chest, his arm heavy across her, her heartbeat slowing under his palm.
“Better,” she sighed.
“Better,” he agreed.
She turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. “You’re going to catch this man.”
“Yes.”
“And then it’ll be over.”
He pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder. “This part will. Yes.”
“What does the next part look like?”
He gave the question the honesty it deserved. “It’ll be quieter. There’ll be the Clan, and the store, and the workshops, just like before.” He tightened his arm around her. “And you.”
She turned all the way over to face him. In the dark, her expression was one he was seeing more and more. It was open and unguarded. He loved that.
“Yeah, okay,” she said softly. “I like the sound of that.”
He kissed her, and she kissed him back, and they didn’t do any more talking for a good long while.
He didn’t leave in the morning. She hadn’t asked him to.
He woke before her and lay still, listening to the apartment and the street below. It sounded calm, just the way he liked it. He checked the angles of light on the ceiling, the shadows through the curtain, the sounds that should be there, and the ones that shouldn’t. All clear.
By the time she stirred, he was up and in the kitchen. She appeared in the doorway wearing an oversized shirt and a sleepy, satisfied look that hit him square in the chest.
“You made coffee,” she said.
“Seemed like the right thing to do.”
“How very domestic of you.”
“I can stop, if you’d rather I didn’t—”
“Don’t you dare.” She took the cup he held out and settled in beside him at the counter, her shoulder warm against his arm.
He thought about Pedro, and Rodrigo, and the debt the old men had named.
He thought about Hernandez out there somewhere, taking notes on everything he and his minions had observed about the town.
Trouble was coming, and it was coming for him.
But it had arrived at Bree’s door because of him, and he had to deal with that.
Standing in her kitchen in the early light, though, he let himself just enjoy this. The coffee. The peaceful morning. Her shoulder against his arm, and the dream of a lifetime of mornings just like this one.
His jaguar purred. Softly, this time. The cat was learning discretion.
“We’ll get through this,” he said.
“I know.” No pause. No qualifiers. She believed it, and damned if that didn’t steady him more than anything else could. “What’s on tap for today?”
“Ari and I are going to meet with Pedro this morning. And Cole’s sending more on Hernandez. He dug deep in the archives for us, contacting other sources that took a bit of time to get back to him.”
“What about tonight?” she asked, an almost playful tone in her voice that made him smile.
“Tonight I want to be here with you. If that’s all right.”
She looked at him over the rim of her coffee cup, direct as ever. “It’s definitely all right.”
They were at the kitchen table when her father shuffled out.
Mr. Leeland gazed at the two of them, poured his own cup of coffee, sat down, and said, “The electrical workshop on Saturday. I want to do a hands-on wiring session. I’m going to build a demonstration panel. Think the youngsters can handle it?”
“Absolutely,” Pax said.
“Good.” Mr. Leeland took the lid off the sugar bowl on the table and frowned. “Bree, there’s no more sugar.”
“It’s in the cabinet above the stove,” she answered, struggling to keep a straight face.
Apparently, Mr. Leeland wasn’t going to comment on finding Pax at his breakfast table so early in the morning. Well, then. So be it.
Her father found the sugar and refilled the bowl. The morning rolled on, as normal, except that Pax had been added to the mix. He found the unvoiced acceptance of Mr. Leeland incredibly touching, but didn’t speak of it, since that’s the way it seemed the older man wanted it.
Outside the desert lay bright and still. Inside, Pax experienced the first of what he hoped would be many quiet mornings with his mate. They just had to get past the threat that haunted them and make it to the other side first.