Page 9

NINE

SAVANNAH

I SEND ZEKE the text about Pierce then shove my phone into the top drawer of his desk. I need to stop messaging him. He’s busy and I’m starting to get obnoxious. When he has time, he’ll get back with me.

I pull in a deep breath of the sandalwood scented air, letting it calm the nerves that have been multiplying over the past few days.

When I first started working in Zeke’s office, I could smell him and trick myself into feeling like he was here. Close enough to protect me from anyone who tried to hurt me.

But it faded. Quickly.

The closest I could come to duplicating it was the woodwick candle crackling at the corner of his desk. It looked so lonely there, so I ended up digging through the piles of crap dominating my condo in search of some decorations that might flesh that area out a little.

As luck would have it—or, more likely, my love of shopping—I found the brass swing arm lamp I kept on the entry table in my old house and a tray I used on my nightstand. I arranged those and a few knick knacky things with the candle and now Zeke’s office looks a little less sterile.

And it almost smells like him.

Going back to the laptop in front of me, I pick up the coffee Elise bought me as we came in this morning and suck the last bit from the bottom of the cup, getting more whip cream than anything, as I scan the grocery order I’m trying to get submitted before lunch. Elise wasn’t lying when she said these people know how to eat. I almost can’t believe the store can keep up with us.

I’m adding a stupid amount of milk to the basket when a commotion outside the open door drags my attention away from the screen.

“They’ll be here in five minutes.” Pierce stops in the hall and turns to someone out of my line of sight. “Eli’s prepping rooms for everyone who’s injured.”

Injured?

I stand, one hand pressing to my stomach as it bottoms out. “What’s happening?” I can’t hide the panic in my voice. Alaskan Security is one of the safest places I can be, but it still has its limits. I’ve heard the stories of snipers shooting through the trees and vans blasting through the gate and it has my feet moving fast, following behind Pierce as she strides down the hall in the direction of the medical wing. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing is going on now.” He slows just a little so I can catch up with him. “There was a small issue with a few of our men who were out on an op.”

My skin goes cold. “What men?”

Pierce’s eyes skim my face as we continue moving. “Everyone is okay, Savannah.” He takes a deep breath before saying the last words I want to hear. “Zeke and a few others were shot.”

“What?” I grab his arm, yanking hard to pull his attention back to me. “What do you mean he was shot?” Zeke didn’t tell me where he was going after he left Nashville, but I assumed he wasn’t in Alaska. “Why isn’t he in the hospital?”

Pierce lets me hang onto him but doesn’t slow his hurried steps. “We avoid the hospital whenever possible. They tend to have questions when people come in with gunshot wounds.”

“So he’s just been sitting there shot and bleeding?” I’m practically yelling at him now, unable to control the volume of my voice as my earlier fear shifts to full-on panic.

“There’s always a trained medic on every op. If he couldn’t be stabilized, they would have taken him to the hospital.” Pierce turns us down the hall leading to our destination. “The fact that they were all able to fly home means no one is seriously injured.”

That doesn’t make me feel any better. I let Pierce go, turning my attention to the exam rooms. I peek in each one as I rush past, seeing a few familiar faces and a couple of men I don’t know, before coming to the one I’m seeking out.

All the air rushes from my lungs when I see Zeke’s big body stretched out on the exam table. He’s upright and talking and doesn’t look too worse for wear.

Outside of the bloody bandage Eli’s peeling off his right shoulder.

I swallow hard as the gauze pulls away to reveal a hole in his skin. There’s an actual hole in his body . The shock of seeing it has me gasping loud enough to pull both his and Eli’s attention my way.

“Savannah.” Zeke tries to get up, but Eli plants a gloved hand at the center of his bare chest, shoving him back down.

“You can get up in a minute. I need to get you bandaged so I can treat everyone else.”

Eli goes to work cleaning out the wound and I cringe at the sight of all the red-tinted saline trickling free. Zeke doesn’t flinch as the doctor pokes and prods, checking him over before quickly placing a bandage on both the front and back side of his shoulder. The coffee I enjoyed so much climbs up my throat as I stare at the splotches of blood dried on his skin and matting the hair across his chest.

“Breathe, Savannah.” Zeke’s voice is low and deep. “I’m fine.”

I manage to suck in a breath. “You’re not fine.” I swallow, fighting against the beverage attempting to make a repeat performance. “There’s a hole in your shoulder.” I press my hands to my hot cheeks as I amend: “Two holes.”

“Only counts as one hole.” Eli stands and peels off his gloves.

I scoff, outraged at how casual the company physician is being about this. “What? There are two holes in his skin. I just watched you patch them both up.”

“I don’t make the rules.” Eli tosses Zeke a foil packet on his way to the door. “Here’s an antibiotic. If you decide you want pain killers let me know.”

Zeke tears open the pouch and tosses the pill between his lips. “I’m good.” He swallows the medication without the aid of liquid and I can almost feel the thing get lodged in my own throat.

I shoot Eli’s retreating form a glare as I stomp to the cabinet holding the mini fridge I just stocked a few days ago. “Didn’t even get you freaking water,” I mumble as I crouch down and pull a bottle free. I open it then pass it off to where Zeke lies on the table, watching me with the same intensity that used to seem so intimidating.

Now it sends the air from my lungs for a different reason.

He’s back. I tried my best to be fine while he was gone, but it was really freaking difficult. For now, this man is my crutch. He makes it easier to breathe. Easier to be brave. Easier to believe I really can be okay again.

And I hated every second he wasn’t here.

“Hey.” He reaches for my hand, the solid warmth of his palm holding mine tight. “Look at me, Savannah.”

“I am looking at you.” I can’t stop. There’s so much blood. It’s everywhere.

And Eli just freaking left him like that.

“My eyes, Savannah.” He releases my hand, lifting his injured arm to press a finger under my chin, forcing my gaze to his face. “I’m okay. I promise.”

“I strongly disagree.” I turn away, irritated at him now too. How can he claim to be okay when he’s still crusted with evidence to the contrary? “You were shot and then you had to fly all the way home like that.” I yank open the cabinet above the sink, pulling out one of the washcloths stacked inside. “It’s freaking ridiculous.”

I understand the reasoning, but it’s still stupid.

Flipping on the hot water, I let it warm up before soaking the cloth, wringing out the excess, and turning to where Zeke lies. I start with his arm, gently wiping away the reddish-brown smears along his bicep. “He didn’t even clean you off.”

Zeke is perfectly still as I work, his gaze fused to my face. “He needs to take care of everyone. Cleanup isn’t high on his list right now.”

I lift the glare I’m still carrying for Eli to Zeke’s face. “It still pisses me off.”

Zeke’s lips lift at the corners. “I’ll pass that along.”

Turning away, I run the washcloth under the tap, rinsing it out before going back to work. “Are you allowed to tell me what happened?” I frown as I reach the edge of the bandage. “Besides you not being as careful as you said you’d be.”

“Someone was just a little more serious about their goals than we expected.” Zeke says it like it’s not a big deal. “It happens sometimes.”

I move to the other side of the bandage, working along the line of his collarbone, the pit in my stomach growing with each passing second. “I didn’t know you were hurt. No one told me.” It comes out softer than I intended. More whisper than anything.

“I know.” Zeke reaches up to push back a curl of hair that’s fallen in my face. “I didn’t want you to have to explain why I had them tell you.”

I almost lean into his touch, the automatic movement taking me by surprise. It sends me stepping back, needing a little space. I hide the reflexive retreat by going to the sink and rinsing the rag again. “I would have come up with something.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time,” he rumbles behind me.

“How about you just make sure there’s not a next time?” I can’t meet his gaze when I turn back around, but that leaves my eyes locked onto his chest.

I try to keep my touch clinical, but his skin is so warm and the almost crisp texture of the hair scattering his chest tickles my fingertips, making me want to get a better feel. Without realizing it, my movements slow. What should be a wipe becomes more of a stroke.

And I can’t seem to stop.

I would have thought being this close to a man as lethal as Zeke would make me nervous. If he wanted to, he could overpower me. Easily. There’d be nothing I could do to stop him.

But this is Zeke. He would never hurt me.

He would hurt for me though. I know that all the way to my bones.

Not because I’m special to him, but because that’s just who he is. He keeps people safe. Protects them from the kind of men who do make me nervous.

“Thank you for taking care of me.”

I risk a peek at his face, my stomach flipping at the tender way he’s staring at me. “You take care of me.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to do the same.” One of Zeke’s hands comes to grip my wrist, his hold gentle and warm. “Is that why you’re doing this? Because you feel like you owe it to me?”

It should be why I’ve spent an unnecessary amount of time running my hands over his body. But it’s not. “No.” I swallow hard before admitting a surprising truth. “I’m doing it because I want to.”