Page 52

“Already got something sweet,” I wink, turning toward the hallway with Holden’s breakfast. “Two of them.”

Holden is awake.

And quiet. Too quiet.

He’s sitting up against the headboard, the cuff keeping one wrist locked in place, but you’d think he put himself there on purpose the way he’s reclining like a man in total control of the situation. Not a single muscle tense. Just watching me like I’m a puzzle he’s halfway solved and not sure if I’m the reward or the warning label.

God, he really looks better in person than through binoculars.

Lean, sun-browned, scruffed-up and barefoot. That dangerous kind of wiry strength, like he could outrun a mountain lion or wrestle a wild boar and not even break a sweat. His hair is dark and a little messy from sleep, but those eyes? Blue-gray and sharp enough to slice me open.

And I’d let them.

I walk in with the tray and set it down on the little bedside table. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. Just tracks me with those eyes like he’s deciding how best to kill me, or understand me.

Honestly, I don’t know which is more terrifying.

I grab a knife, cut the steak into perfect little bites, and set the knife far, far away from the tray. I slide it closer to him. “There. All ready for you. Dean made it. He’s incredible in the kitchen. Between him and me, we won’t need to add a cook to the roster. Not unless one of you surprises me with a hidden culinary passion.”

Still nothing. Just that silence. Like I’m the one performing in a zoo and he’s trying to decide if I’m a monkey or a tiger.

I sigh and grab a bite of the steak with my fingers. It’s still warm. Tender. Medium rare. I moan a little just to make a point and lick the juice off my thumb before dropping into the chair beside his bed.

“Fine, I’ll talk. Since you’re clearly the strong silent type.” I cross my legs, feeling the heat of his stare drag up my thighs. “There are four of you. So far. Dean’s a mechanic. Hands like magic, mouth even better. Evan’s a doctor, was ER before the world went to shit. Grumpy, but he’s coming around. Then there’s Brock. Strong, scary, loud. He woke up an hour ago and screamed at me for five solid minutes. I still made him pancakes.”

Holden’s brow lifts the tiniest bit. It’s the most expression I’ve gotten from him so far. Progress.

“There’s one more I’m bringing in. A farmer named Wade. He’s good with land, good with animals, and we’ll need both soon. But you…” I point my fork at him, “You’re the most useful of all. You know how to survive when the systems collapse. How to trap, hunt, fight, fix. You’re like… a wilderness Swiss Army knife. With cheekbones that could kill a man.”

His mouth twitches. Barely. But I see it. I do. And I want to throw a party for it.

I keep going.

“I brought all your supplies. Every single thing I could carry. Dean and I packed it up ourselves. It took hours. You’ve got everything here. And better. This bunker? Climate controlled. Solar powered. Water filtration. Security cams. No nosy neighbors. And best of all…” I smile wide, “Me.”

Holden tilts his head a fraction. “Smart plan,” he says, voice deep and dry like whiskey with gravel in it. “Risky, though.”

My stomach does a flip so hard I almost fall out of the chair. “Oh my god, you talk.”

He lifts his cuffed wrist slightly, testing it without urgency. “And you drugged me.”

“Only a little,” I say brightly. “You would have fought us and I needed you safe.”

“You really think this’ll work?” he asks.

“I know it will,” I say. “You just haven’t had your coffee yet. Or your post-apocalyptic sexual awakening. But you will. You’re exactly what we need.”

His gaze drops, slowly, to my mouth. Then lower. Not subtle. Not apologetic.

My thighs clench. I shift in the chair and grin. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

Holden’s quiet again, but this time it feels deliberate. Like he’s collecting data, deciding whether I’m delusional or prophetic. He’ll come around. I’ll give him time. Just not too much.

I rise, smooth my shirt, and wink. “Eat your steak, Holden. I have another grumpy man to win over next. But next time I come in here, I hope you’re a little nicer. I’d love to take you for a walk. Show you the perimeter. Let you meet the others. Maybe let you get a little sunlight on those collarbones. You know. Something fun.”

He doesn’t respond.

I take that as a yes.