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So instead, I steadily wear a hole in the carpet as I let the movie play, filling my head with white noise. Because I can’t stop envisioning all the things that could have gone wrong—especially since Lance is trying to do recon while he’s injured.
The big, dumb idiot. I never should have let him go.
I should have tried harder to make him stay home.
What if he got captured? What if he got killed?
My heart hammers uncomfortably against my ribs, and I snatch up the remote to turn off the TV because clearly it’s not helping. Then I pause. Because if I turn it off, then the house will be silent. And that would be so much worse.
My breath catches as I think I hear the whisper of a lock turning. Then muted voices.
Silencing the TV, I strain my ears to see if I’m hearing things.
No, that’s definitely Donnie’s brogue—which means someone’s at the door.
Heart in my throat, I turn off the TV and race to the entry of the home theater. If it is Lance, he’ll have to walk this way to go to his room, and I bite my lip to stay silent as I wait impatiently.
Minutes pass that feel like hours, and my stomach sinks.Was I hearing things?I could have sworn I heard Donnie.
Then my heart skips a beat as a tall, looming figure rounds the corner on soft-soled feet. Lance, dressed head to toe in dark clothing, he looks like a dark ops soldier minus the face mask and bulletproof armor. And blessedly, he looks no worse for wear.
I don’t care that we’re in the middle of the hallway where someone could see us. I’m so grateful he’s home, I can’t stop myself from running into his arms.
And as a grin spreads across his handsome face, I jump up, wrapping my legs around his waist, my arms around his shoulders. Lance grunts softly, taking a step back to absorb my inertia, and I cringe at the realization that I might have disrupted his stitches.
But my lips are already on his.
Without a moment’s hesitation, he’s cradling the back of my head with one hand, his other arm curling beneath my hips to hold me in place. And he kisses me back with a ferocity that steals my breath away.
I can’t bring myself to pull back until my lungs are burning for oxygen. And when I finally do, it’s only for a brief moment. “What…took…you…so…damn…long?” I demand between kisses.
Lance stiffens, his arm tightening around my hips, and my stomach drops as I get a cold lump of foreboding in my chest. Pulling back just enough to meet his eyes, I ask him again.
“Lance, what took you so long?”
Releasing a slow breath, he lets his eyes drop in that sign I’m coming to learn means he doesn’t want to admit what he’s going to say. But because I asked, he won’t lie to me.
“I went inside the house.”
“You…? I thought you said this was just recon?—”
“I know.” Slowly, Lance eases me back onto the ground, and he meets my eyes with almost painful reluctance.
“Well? Did they see you? Did you find Lucian?”What am I even talking about? Who cares?He could have died going inside that house by himself. Right now I’m furious, and as my eyes narrow into a fierce glare, I hiss, “You promised you wouldn’t do anything reckless.”
“I know, Iknow,” he insists, grasping my shoulders as I cross my arms defensively over my chest. “That’s why I stopped. I knew I made you a promise and that you would never forgive me if I broke it and got myself killed. So no, I didn’t find Lucian. He’s not dead. But I’m confident we can get to him.”
My heart skips a beat at the sincerity in his gaze, the fire behind his confidence. But all I care about is the fact that he stopped. Because he wanted to keep his promise to me.
That means more to me than any possible vengeance he could have gotten by killing Lucian.
It shows me that he was thinking about me. About how I would feel if he died—even in the heat of the moment. I’vealways been so terrified that I would lose Killian or Lance. And neither of them have ever seemed to give that a second thought.
But tonight, Lance did. And it brings tears to my eyes as relief floods my chest.
That means that I might not have to live through a broken heart. Even if he’ll only think of his safety to satisfy me, I’ll shoulder that responsibility. Because I want Lance to live a long, healthy life. With me.
“Are you…crying?” he asks, worry flitting across his face as he runs the pad of his thumb along my cheek.