And now, I’m thinking about him in bed.
“Hey, sunshine.” Rafe gives me a quick hug.
“I thought you were called away for a mission?”
“Was a short op,” Hayes explains. Like Rafe, he pulls me in for a hug, then continues past me like he owns the place. “Where is everyone?” He pokes his head outside, asking me.
“On the roof.” I take a step back, letting the large men into the townhouse. Zeb is last and when he’s beside me, my heart kicks into overdrive.
“Miss me?” His left brow arches and the corner of his mouth lifts in a grin.
“Was I supposed to?” There’s a little squeak in my voice.
“I missed you.” His tone turns sexy and his eyes smolder with desire.
The combination of that tone of voice, those eyes, and his innate magnetism, creates a potent mix that makes my head spin.
“Everyone is on the roof. There’s wine and pizza.” There’s something about Zeb that makes my stomach flutter, my heart pound, and my words trip all over themselves.
“Interesting combination. What about beer?”
“None of us drink beer. Sorry.”
Why do I feel bad about that?
“No problem. I’ll hit the market on the corner. Care to come with me?”
Yes!
Any chance to spend more time with this amazing man and I’m on board. But that’s not what I say. For some reason, I’m reluctant to show too much interest in him.
“Ummm…”
“Come on.” He extends a hand. “I don’t want to get lost.”
“Considering the corner store is literally on the corner, I don’t think you’ll get lost.”
“Probably, but the companionship would be nice.” He definitely doesn’t give in easily.
“You really want me to come?”
“One thing you’ll learn about me, as we get to know each other better, is I rarely beat around the bush. I’m pretty direct.”
Funny, that’s pretty much what Paul said earlier. Direct. Do I like direct men? Maybe that’s why I fell for Scott. He’s also authoritative and direct.
“The sun’s nearly ready to set. I’ve been told the view is spectacular on the roof.” Zeb holds out a hand, waiting for me to take it. “I’d rather not miss it.”
“Umm…” I drag my hands over my pants.
“Come on. I don’t bite.” Those eyes of his twinkle with mischief. “Unless that’s what you like?”
It emboldens me to have a little fun.
“And if I do?”
“If you like that, I’ve got a host of other things you’ll enjoy. But first, let’s get beer and something for dessert.”
With my heart beating like a crazy lunatic, I let Zeb take my hand. Before I know it, he lifts my hand to his mouth and presses featherlight kisses over my knuckles. An oddly intimate gesture, it somehow feels right.
I make no move to pull away and find I really enjoy his companionship as we buy beer and cookies for the group. Our little house party is definitely turning into something more, but the moment we exit the corner store, I feel it again.
That sense someone is watching me.
Zeb picks up on it immediately.
“What’s wrong?”
A shiver works its way down my spine. Beside me, Zeb’s relaxed posture turns tense and his entire being goes on alert. Like me, he scans the street looking for threats.
“It’s nothing.” I try to play it down, but the set of Zeb’s shoulders and the clenching of his jaw tell me he doesn’t buy my dismissive comment.
His brow furrows and his stance widens. It’s a subtle change but awe inspiring. He’s ready for any threat.
Instead of sinfully hot, I see a man born for combat and violence against his enemies. It’s terrifying, yet oddly comforting.
“Come.” He takes my hand and pulls me down the street.
The entire time, he scans for threats. Unlike me, he’s focused and methodical. He takes his time to look down the street and behind parked cars. He checks for anyone hiding in doorways, but there are no threats to be found.
Once we’re back inside, he shuts the front door and locks it behind him.
“What other forms of egress are there?”
“Egress?”
“Ways in and out.” His gruff tone is abrasive, but the concern behind it evens out the jagged edges.
“The backdoor. Is that what you mean?”
When he takes a step toward me, my heart races with excitement.
“Show me.” He crosses his arms over his chest and waits for me to respond.
I take a deep breath, then lead him down the hallway and into the kitchen at the back of the townhome. He follows right on my heels, tense and on high alert. At the back door, he checks the lock, securing it with a click. “How long has this been happening?”
“What do you mean?” I rub my hands up and down my arms, warding off a chill determined to keep me on edge.
“That’s the second time something’s spooked you.” His dark eyes search mine. The intensity of his gaze makes me suck in a breath. It’s like he can see right through me.
“Spooked me?” My voice trembles despite my effort not to break down in front of him.
He steps close. Mere inches separate us and the warmth of his body radiates all around me. He makes me feel safe, despite the weirdness going on.
“When I was here before and just now.”
Instinctively, I place my hand against his chest. I love the hard planes of his muscle. Touching him seems to let me draw strength from him in ways far surpassing the physical connection between us.
“It’s nothing.”
“Didn’t look like nothing.” His expression turns pensive.
When he covers my hand with his, my heart kicks into overdrive and the fluttering in my belly returns. I take a deep breath before responding, not entirely sure how much to tell him. We’ve known each other for less than a day, mere hours, if not minutes. And while he appears genuinely interested in what’s happening, it feels wrong to burden him with my troubles.
I hesitate, to be honest, not wanting to make Scott into some kind of villain. The man’s no saint, but he’s not the devil.
“Honestly, I just came off a rough relationship. Scott’s not taking it well.” I shrug, uncomfortable under Zeb’s scrutiny.
Not to mention it feels wrong speaking to the man I’m interested in sleeping with about the man I broke up with. There’s a disconnect there I haven’t fully realized.
Zeb takes a step back, robbing me of the heat radiating off his large frame. He examines me with an intensity that makes my skin itch.
“What does that mean?” Low and sincere, it’s almost as if he already knows, but he wants to know if I’m okay. “Not taking it well?”
I sigh and turn away from his gaze. It’s too much to process. Not to mention, I don’t want to see his reaction when I tell him the truth.
“He’s angry at me and wants me back.”
Silence stretches between us until it becomes painful. When Zeb finally speaks, it’s with zero emotion. The lack of tone and inflection makes his next words terrifying.
“How angry?”
A lump forms in my throat and tears threaten to fall. A Guardian and a protector, he’s wired to protect and defend. What does that mean when it comes to Scott? Am I going to make things worse involving Zeb in something I should be able to handle myself?