Page 10

TEN

ZEKE

MY SHOULDER IS aching and I’m fucking exhausted, but I’m having a hard time focusing on anything but Savannah’s careful touch as she cleans me off. I try to remember how long it’s been since someone took care of me like this, but it’s been too many years.

Enough that it feels like a lifetime ago.

I clear my throat, knowing I shouldn’t be letting her do this, but unable to make myself tell her to stop. “How’s your condo coming?”

She continues working and it takes me a second to realize she hasn’t heard me. “Savannah?”

Her eyes widen but don’t lift to my face. “Hmm?”

“How is your condo coming along?” I repeat myself, expecting this time I’ll get an answer.

Instead she asks, “My condo?”

Guilt settles into my gut. I didn’t mean to upset her by not sharing news about what happened, but obviously I did. “You said it was a mess because you had all your stuff delivered.”

“Oh.” She wipes at the same, already clean, spot she just went over. “Yeah. It’s messy.”

I expect her to elaborate, but she doesn’t. Savannah just keeps trailing that warm rag across my chest, the tips of her fingers chasing the cloth as it glides against my skin. There’s an odd look on her face as she watches the movement. One I can’t read no matter how long I stare.

I’m still focused on her face, looking for some sign of what she’s thinking, when the rag—and her touch—drags across my nipple. The contact is so unexpected, a breath hisses between my teeth.

Savannah jumps back, her cheeks flushing as she rips her hand from my body. The other presses to her stomach as she continues putting space between us, the flame of her cheeks getting deeper with each step.

Fuck. I don’t know what to say. How to smooth over the visceral reaction she just caused. One that’s spreading like wildfire to other—more obvious—parts of my body.

“You’re all clean.” Savannah drops the rag into the sink before grabbing a cold pack from the drawer. She tosses the unactivated bundle my way before spinning to the door. “I’ll see you later.”

I watch her go, frozen in place as I try to rein in my body’s reaction to that accidental, and completely innocent, touch. The throb in my dick has nothing to do with Savannah and everything to do with the lack of sex in my life.

I can’t even remember the last time I got laid. It’s not normally a big deal. I take care of any urges myself and move on. But I’ve spent the past week unable to scratch that itch, and it’s obviously an issue.

Grabbing the cold pack Savannah tossed my way, I break the barrier inside, shake it, then shove it right against my dick. It’s the biggest pain I’m facing and I need to nip whatever’s going on there in the bud. I would never have feelings like that for Savannah. She just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Shifting on the table, I swing my legs over the side, groaning a little as the shift twinges the ache in my shoulder. I was almost considering asking Eli for those pain meds, but I think I deserve a little discomfort after what just happened. A little suffering for the upset my reaction caused Savannah.

Hopefully it wasn’t enough to make her decide my help is no longer wanted.

Getting to my feet, I move the cold pack from my crotch to my shoulder, holding it there as I leave the room and make my way through the complex to my second floor suite in the rooming house. After letting myself in, I peel away my remaining clothes then toss them in the laundry to be dealt with later.

Savannah did her best to clean me up, but I still need a shower. Switching on the spray and yanking the detachable shower head free from its stand, I go to work scrubbing away the evidence of the bloodbath that left three of my team injured. Luckily, the memory of it is enough to keep my dick from acting up as I give it a quick scrub and rinse. As soon as I’m clean, I dry off, pull on a pair of sleep pants, and fall into my bed, hoping I’m exhausted enough I can get the sleep I desperately need.

My head’s just hit the pillow when I hear something. Sitting up, I hold my breath, trying to figure out what it was. The light tapping comes again, and it throws me just as much the second time.

Is someone knocking on my door?

I’m one of the few people still staying in the rooming house on a permanent basis, so there’s usually no one else around. Certainly not in the middle of the day.

Forcing my exhausted body upright, I pad to the door as whoever’s on the other side knocks again. My irritation at being interrupted just as I laid down shows as I fling the door open and glare through the opening.

But my glare dissolves when I see who’s standing on my doorstep.

“Hey.” Savannah wrings her hands as her eyes slip down my bare chest. Her cheeks flush in discomfort as she shifts on her feet. “Pierce is trying to get a hold of you.” Her eyes don’t meet mine, staying on my chest instead. “He wants to talk to you about what happened in Nashville.”

“He could have called me.” I hate that he sent Savannah up here. Hate even more how uncomfortable she obviously is around me now.

“He did.” Her green eyes finally come to my face. “You didn’t answer, so I told him I’d come get you.”

That makes me pause. “You offered to come get me?”

She lifts one narrow shoulder and lets it drop. “He was in a mood and I didn’t want him to come up here and be a jerkface. I know you’re tired and your shoulder hurts so I didn’t want you to have to deal with that.”

Her explanation has my lips lifting. “Are you protecting me from Pierce?”

Savannah offers me a hint of a smile. “I think it’s more about protecting Pierce from you.”

I laugh in spite of my exhaustion. “You’re probably right.” I back into my suite, feeling a little better about where we stand. “I’ll get dressed and come down.”

Savannah’s gaze flicks behind me, quickly skimming my space. “I can wait for you.”

A little more of my worry about what happened in the medical wing eases. If she’s willing to be alone with me, hopefully that means no harm was done. I back up more, widening the door. “Worried I won’t come down?”

“Worried you’ll come armed.” She slips past me, the full skirt of her dress teasing along the front of my pajama pants.

Again, she makes me laugh. “I’ve had enough combat for the week.”

Savannah’s lips flatten as she comes my way, one hand lifting to gently trace the edge of the bandage on my shoulder. “Did you take any pain medication?”

I grit my teeth, doing my best to ignore the soft stroke of her touch. I can’t have a reaction like I did again. It was inappropriate and put all the trust I’ve built with Savannah at risk. “I’m fine.”

“That’s what I figured.” Savannah pulls her hand from my body and digs into a pocket hidden in the seam of her dress. She brings out a clear sealed pouch containing a pill and holds it up. “So I got some from Eli on my way up here.” She gives me a wobbly smile. “I remember what a gunshot feels like, so stop being stubborn.”

The mention of her own suffering makes it impossible for me to deny her anything, so I obligingly take the packet.

She watches as I tear into it. “I didn’t bring any water. I figured you’d have some.” Her eyes again trail around my suite. “But now I’m questioning that assumption.”

The state of where I stay hasn’t been big on my list of concerns. I’ve had other shit going on. That’s why I love my job. It keeps me busy. Occupies my brain. Leaves me little time for anything else. And I work hard to fill that little time too. Whatever keeps me from having too much time to think.

“Why don’t you have any furniture?” Savannah gives the living room a long look as she turns toward the small kitchen. “I thought all these suites were furnished.”

“Not this one.” I trail behind her as she goes to the fridge and opens it, making a tsking sound as she surveys the empty shelves.

“Not even water?” Savannah looks at me over one shoulder. “What if you get thirsty?”

“Then I go to the big kitchen downstairs. It’s always stocked.” The team I run for Alaskan Security can leave town with zero notice and be gone for weeks at a time. Coming back to a fridge full of science projects isn’t my idea of a good time.

Savannah turns to face me, her eyes skimming down my body. “But then you’d have to get dressed.”

“Not necessarily.” The comment reminds me that’s what I’m supposed to be doing. “There’s not usually anyone around to be offended by my appearance.” I pop the pill she brought me into my mouth and lean into the sink, switching on the water to drink straight from the tap.

“I don’t think offended is the right word,” Savannah mumbles, the words so low I’m pretty sure I didn’t hear them right.

“What?” I swipe a forearm across my mouth, wiping away the water clinging to my upper lip.

“I said, you should probably get dressed so we can go.” She flashes me a smile. “Otherwise Pierce will decide to come get you himself and then I’ll have to clean more blood off of you.”

“I’m flattered you think I would win that fight.” She’s obviously never seen Pierce when he’s truly pissed off. He might look harmless carrying his baby girl around in his fancy suits, but the owner of Alaskan Security has a ruthless streak that would make most men shit their pants.

I leave Savannah in the empty living room area while I retreat to the bedroom and replace my pajama bottoms with the black tactical pants and matching black T-shirt I wear every day. I keep my wardrobe as simple as I keep the rest of my life, so it takes me all of two minutes to get ready and then I’m joining Savannah where she still stands looking thoughtfully around my suite. “Ready?”

She looks me over from head to toe. “Ready.”

I open the door, holding it so she can go first, and we make our way downstairs, through the tunnel connecting the rooming house to the rest of the compound, and into the hall containing the bulk of the offices. Savannah gives me a smile when we reach Pierce’s door. “Good luck.”

I wait, watching as she disappears into my office. For a second, I consider making Pierce wait a little longer so I can go get a whiff of the candle she brought in, but I need to get this over with so I can get back to bed before I collapse.

After taking one more look toward my office, I stride through Pierce’s door. He’s sitting at his desk. His wife, Mona, is perched on the corner, her expression serious as she talks to him in hushed tones.

Based on the frown on Pierce’s face, the conversation isn’t going well.

“Do you want me to come back another time?” I’m not trying to be a dick by interrupting. I just don’t want to stand here waiting if they’re going to be involved in a lover’s quarrel for the next hour.

Mona turns, standing when she sees me. “No. Come in.” She shoots a glare at her husband. “I’d really like to hear about your trip to Nashville.”