Page 8 of Defended By the SEAL (HERO Force #10)
Charlotte held a candle as she climbed the steps, shielding the flame with a cupped hand. Wind-chimes could be heard in this part of the house, continuing their cacophony as the storm raged around them, and the distinct smell of pickles permeated the air.
The arctic weather and lack of heat in the house had caused a pipe in the basement to burst, the force of which had toppled a shelf full of canned goods directly beneath the dining room.
What had sounded like the beginning of the end of times was, in fact, little more than a homeowner’s insurance claim.
Tom had taken care of it, and it had brought a welcome if ungraceful end to the awkward family dinner and her interrogation of the man. It had also set Charlotte firmly on a collision course with bedtime, and the room she was going to have to share with Cowboy.
Grams had disappeared shortly after the exploding pickle incident, claiming she was tired and needed to rest. She’d looked drawn and suddenly old, giving yet another reason for Charlotte to fear for her grandmother’s health.
Cowboy had retired shortly thereafter, and Charlotte wasn’t sure if he was trying to give her space or trying to prevent her from going to bed alone as she wished.
Tom had insisted on cleaning up the entire canning shelf mess alone.
This earned him his first gold star of the evening in Charlotte’s book, reflecting a fine level of character he had yet to display.
She did feel bad for him at one point and try to lend a hand, only to be secretly relieved when she found the basement door locked.
The lack of access to the pickle disaster meant she was absolved of all guilt in the matter.
She then wandered around the old house for nearly an hour, fatigue clawing at her until there was nothing left for her to do but to go to bed and face her fear of sharing a bed with Cowboy.
She climbed the stairs warily, a layer of cold air drifting down the stairs as if a window were open on the second floor, though she was sure it must be the drafty old house being stretched at the seams by the storm. The treads creaked beneath her weight.
As a child, this house had frightened her with its tall ceilings and dark woodwork that stood out in sharp relief like hulking shadows in the dimmest of light.
Once she’d sleepwalked down these very stairs in the middle of the night, only to sit in the dark of the formal living room, fully awake for hours, thinking of the ghost in the lighthouse and terrified to make the trek back to her bed, alone.
Now she was making that same trip and just as unnerved, but for a very different reason. Cowboy awaited her upstairs—waited to share her bed.
They’d slept beneath the same covers for more than a year, but today, she might have been a virginal bride afraid of her husband’s expectations. She cursed the thought. Why did everything need to be about marriage? Every thought, every motivation, every fear?
But she knew this room and knew it well. There was no sofa for Leo to sleep on, only a tall queen bed for them to share in the light of a roaring fire, and the very idea of it had her knees trembling.
She couldn’t sleep with him. She wanted to break up with him, for goodness’ sake. It wasn’t fair to expect this of her, but then this entire trip wasn’t fair, the timing of it destined to stretch out their breakup into a long set of terrible moments rather than a swift, clean fracture.
He isn’t going to force you to have sex with him.
You’re worried because you want it.
The realization was sobering. She did want him.
She wanted him, just as she had for more years than they’d been together.
Breaking up with him had been the hardest thing she’d ever done, yet he was waiting for her in a warm bed, his familiar scent would envelop her in safety and make her yearn to be close to him with a need that could never be satisfied.
She reached the top step and bit her lip, hesitating. The door stood ajar at the end of the hall, golden firelight spilling out onto the hardwood floor. What was she thinking, agreeing to this plan? She needed a way out of her predicament.
She eyed the next door down, knowing the room beyond it would be dark and cold. There was no fireplace in that one, but there was a bed she could have all to herself. It was certainly the safer option.
She reached the doorway and tried the handle, finding it locked.
There was a key, of course, but the cold room wasn’t motivation enough to go get it.
She thought of the couch downstairs, the same one she’d once sat on through the night, terrified.
Sleeping there wouldn’t be so different from that, except it would be freezing cold without the fire to warm her.
Turning around, she found Cowboy right behind her and nearly jumped out of her skin with a desperate gasp.
“Sorry,” he said quietly, his voice gravelly. He was shirtless, the light from her candle coloring his skin with a golden hue. “I didn’t mean to scare you. What are you doing?”
“Looking for someplace to sleep.”
His mouth hardened into a straight line. “I thought you were staying with me. We’ve shared a room for a long time. Nothing has to happen if you don’t want it to.”
She stood there, torn between the cold couch downstairs and the alluring heat of this golden man who was far too dangerous indeed. “Fine.”
He led the way to the bedroom, pushing open the door to a glorious warmth. The bed was turned down, the plush pillows and thick comforter calling to her achingly tired body.
Cowboy crossed to the opposite side of the bed and climbed beneath the covers. “What were you doing downstairs? I thought you’d be right behind me.”
“Nothing.” What was she going to wear to bed? Normally, she slept in the nude, but that hardly seemed appropriate today. She briefly considered hopping in there completely clothed, but it seemed far too immature.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she unbuttoned her jeans and slid them down her legs, then maneuvered out of her bra while leaving her shirt on, and moved between the sheets. God, it was uncomfortable being so close to him. Had it just been two nights ago since they’d last made love?
The memory wasn’t a good one. He’d been dropping hints about getting married throughout dinner at the restaurant, then made little comments about having her by his side forever as he’d spread her legs and filled her body with his own.
How could she relax into the sensations under those conditions?
What should have been glorious and decadent had been stressful and unpleasant, until she’d been so unhappy and turned off, she’d actually asked him to stop before he came.
She’d fallen asleep with unshed tears in her eyes.
Thinking of that now helped. She squeezed her eyes shut and moved onto her side with her back to him. The crackling of the fire was inviting, even as the storm raged outside. Within minutes, her mind was combining the two into a fiery twister that carried her along like a cresting mountain stream.
Nature’s fierceness surrounded her, but she wasn’t afraid. She was alone on the river, strong, feeling more herself than she had in ages.
Charlotte.
She didn’t hear her name as much as she felt it being called. She looked at the water. Leo swam beside her, his strokes strong as he worked to keep up with her.
Charlotte.
She awoke with a start. The firelight was dimmer now, the white of the ceiling flickering in time to its pops. She looked over to find Cowboy sleeping soundly, his lips parted, face relaxed, and she was filled with such love for him that it took her breath away.
Like this, she could look at him freely without him taking more than she wanted to give.
How long had it been since she’d been able to do that?
She was tired of being wrong, tired of constantly pushing him back behind some imaginary line that kept her safe, tired of him not understanding how she needed him to love her.
Here there were only her feelings, without Leo’s desperate need for a permanent commitment to color and contort the beautiful love they had together.
Her body stirred, blood rushing low in her abdomen as desire fully awoke. There had never been another man who could make her feel this way, who could take her to dizzying heights of sexual pleasure with the slightest touch of his body against hers.
She knew she shouldn’t want him, that it had cost her nearly every ounce of strength she had to drive that wedge between them. Making love to him now was bound to confuse her already broken heart, but she needed him more than she’d ever needed anyone.
After this trip was over, she could put the fence around herself that kept him from hurting her more deeply than she could handle. But for tonight, maybe just for tonight, she could take what life was offering her and be with the man she loved.
She inched closer to him, her sensitive nipples moving against the fabric of her tee-shirt, and she imagined him touching her there, feeling the scrape of his beard against her tender flesh as he took her in his mouth. Her breath hitched and she exhaled, trembling with need.
Don’t do this. It will set you back and make everything harder tomorrow.
She heard the voice, but she couldn’t heed it. For there was a louder voice demanding to be heard, screaming out for her to take what was hers and pull it inside her core, to love this man with her body as she longed to love him with her soul. “Leo.”
“Hmm.”
She moved closer, the smell of him reaching her nose. She longed to drape her leg over his thigh, to wake him up as she had woken him countless times before. But she needed something different today, needed to feel the desire coming off him in waves as he claimed her with his strength and brawn.