Page 38 of Gamble (Black Light #38)

ELIJAH

E lijah stared at the ceiling of his bedroom, listening to the sounds of Reagan puttering around in his kitchen. Three days post-surgery, and he still couldn’t quite believe she was here. In his house. Taking care of him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

The first night, she’d transformed his bedroom into a recovery suite worthy of a five-star hospital.

Extra pillows positioned just right to support his hip, a bedside table organized with medications, water, and anything else he might need.

She’d even moved a comfortable chair from the living room so she could sit beside the bed when he needed company as they’d watched old movie classics to pass the time.

And she’d slept next to him every night.

That should have been the best part of his recovery. Having Reagan’s warm body curled against his uninjured side, her vanilla scent surrounding him, and the soft sound of her breathing in the darkness. It was better than any pain medication Dr. Jennings could have prescribed.

But it was also torture.

Lying next to the woman he’d fallen in love with, unable to touch her the way he wanted to, unable to give her even a fraction of the pleasure she deserved, was a constant reminder of how much had changed between them.

In Vegas, he’d been confident, dominant, able to make her body sing with desire.

Now he needed her help just to make it to the bathroom in the middle of the night without falling on his face.

Christ, what a pathetic excuse for a man you’ve become.

The kisses she gave him—soft pecks on his forehead or cheek—felt more and more like the affectionate gestures Nalani offered during her visits. Caring, but devoid of sexual interest. And who could blame her? Watching him struggle to put on his own pants wasn’t exactly the stuff of erotic fantasies.

Reagan had been nothing but gracious about his limitations, never making him feel worse about needing help than he already did. But Elijah knew what he was seeing in her eyes. Pity. Compassion. The look a nurse gave a patient, not the heated gaze a woman gave a lover.

The realization was devastating and liberating at the same time. He was losing her as a romantic partner, but if he could keep her as a friend... well, that was more than he’d dared to hope for after the way he’d treated her.

“Elijah?” Reagan’s voice carried down the hallway. “I’m running to the store for some groceries. What sounds good for dinner tonight?”

“Whatever you’re in the mood for,” he called back, then added, “Maybe some of those pasta shells you made yesterday?”

Her laughter was warm and genuine. “I can do that. Anything else you need? I’m going to pick up your medication refills on the way back.”

“I’m good. Drive safe.”

He heard the front door close and her car start in the driveway.

The silence that followed felt oppressive, highlighting just how much he depended on her presence over the past few days.

When she went back to work the next Wednesday, or worse…

when she returned to her own apartment and her own life, the emptiness would be unbearable.

Stop feeling sorry for yourself. At least she forgave you. At least she’s still in your life.

Twenty minutes later, Elijah heard the front door open again. She hadn’t been gone long enough.

“Reagan? Did you forget something?” he called out.

Instead of her voice, he heard the heavier footsteps of someone much larger moving through his house. His hand went instinctively to the bedside table where he kept his .38 in the top drawer, only then realizing it was out of reach.

“It’s just me, old man. Don’t shoot.”

He relaxed as a familiar voice called out.

Jaxson Cartwright-Davidson appeared in his bedroom doorway, looking ridiculously out of place in the domestic setting.

The man commanded boardrooms and BDSM dungeons with equal authority, but standing in Elijah’s modest ranch house bedroom, he looked almost.. . normal.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Elijah asked, surprised to see his boss and friend. Emma, Chase, and the kids had stopped by to check on him the week before, but this was the first time he’d seen Jaxson in over a month.

“Checking on my dungeon master. Making sure you’re not driving your nurse crazy with your winning personality.

” Jaxson settled into the chair Reagan had been using, his large frame making the furniture look delicate.

“I was hoping to meet this Reagan properly, but I noticed her car isn’t in the driveway. ”

“She went to the store. Should be back soon.”

“Good. I want to get to know the woman who tamed Elijah Keaton.” Jaxson’s grin was knowing. “So how are things going with her?”

Elijah hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. But this was Jaxson—one of the few people he trusted.

“She’s even more amazing than I thought she was back in Vegas,” he admitted. “The way she’s taken care of me, the way she’s just... been here. I don’t deserve her.”

“That’s awesome,” Jaxson said. “I only met her for a few minutes that night at Runway, but she seemed perfect for you.”

“Yeah, she may be perfect for me, but I’m the last thing she needs. That’s why it’s going to be so damn hard to say goodbye to her after she goes back to work and her own life.”

The expression on Jaxson’s face shifted from pleased to thunderous in the space of a heartbeat.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?” His voice carried the authority that could silence a room full of unruly submissives. “Don’t tell me you’re planning on ghosting her again. Do you care so little for her that you’d put her through that twice?”

Elijah felt his own anger flare. “No, asshole, it’s because I love her I need to let her go. I’m an old man. She’s young and beautiful. She deserves to have kids, a family, a future with someone who can give her everything she wants.”

“So put a baby in her,” Jaxson said with the casual confidence of a man who’d fathered twins at thirty-five. “Sounds like fun to me.”

“It isn’t the damn making of the baby that worries me,” Elijah shot back. “Even if she were to get pregnant today, I’d be fucking sixty-eight when the kid graduates from high school.”

“So fucking what? Do you hate the idea of having a kid?”

The question stopped Elijah cold. Did he hate the idea?

The honest answer was no. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more appealing it became.

Holding a mini-Reagan with the same green eyes and stubborn chin.

Teaching a child to ride a bike, to throw a baseball, to stand up for themselves.

Watching them grow up, graduate, maybe even have children of their own.

It would be a privilege. An honor. The greatest adventure of his life.

But it was also selfish as hell.

“Doesn’t she deserve better?” he asked.

“You mean like that asshole she dumped in Vegas?” Jaxson’s tone was dry. “Yeah, Nalani told me about him. Real winner, that one.”

Elijah closed his eyes, trying to organize his thoughts. There was something else, something he hadn’t admitted to anyone, including himself.

“I guess I have enough money socked away to retire now,” he mumbled.

Jaxson looked surprised. “Retire? Why the hell would you want to do that?”

“Because there’s no way Reagan would put up with my being a dungeon master. She’s vanilla, Jaxson. She’d run for the hills if she had a clue about Black Light and what I do there.”

His boss studied him for a long moment, something unreadable flickering across his features. When he spoke, his voice was neutral.

“You so sure about that?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I spanked her ass once during sex back in Vegas, and she made a point to tell me she’d never been with someone so kinky before. She’d run for the hills if she ever found out about my real job.”

There was a long pause, during which Jaxson seemed to weigh his words.

“I think you’re not giving her enough credit,” he finally said.

Before Elijah could respond, they heard Reagan’s car in the driveway, followed by the sound of the front door opening.

“I’m back!” her voice called out cheerfully.

Jaxson leaned forward, his expression intense. “Don’t make that decision for her,” he said quietly. “She deserves better than that. She deserves to learn all the facts and make her own choices.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a moot point right now considering I can barely get to the bathroom on my own, let alone introduce her to our lifestyle.”

The sound of Reagan’s footsteps in the hallway cut off any response Jaxson might have made. A moment later, she appeared in the doorway, her arms full of grocery bags and a warm smile on her face.

“Oh, hello, Jaxson. I wondered whose SUV that was in the driveway. I parked beside you so you could still get out.”

Jaxson stood, his imposing frame filling the small bedroom as he moved to give Reagan a loose hug of greeting before taking half of the groceries from her.

“It’s great to see you again, Reagan. I hear you’ve been taking excellent care of this grumpy employee of mine. You should receive hazard pay.”

They both laughed, and Elijah watched the interaction with growing fascination. Jaxson Cartwright-Davidson intimidated most women. Hell, the man’s presence was overwhelming, his authority absolute. But Reagan seemed at ease with him, chatting like they were old friends rather than near-strangers.

Sure, he could see she was awestruck—who wouldn’t be when face-to-face with a man whose business empire was legendary? But she wasn’t cowering or stumbling over her words. She was holding her own, matching his energy with her own quiet confidence.

It was the same way she’d connected with Nalani, and with Shane when he’d stopped by yesterday to check on Elijah’s recovery. His friends liked her. More than liked her—they were charmed by her.

“Against my better judgment,” Reagan said, moving to Elijah’s bedside and handing him a cold Mountain Dew, “here’s the jolt of caffeine you asked for. I’m going to go put the groceries away and get dinner started.”

She turned to Jaxson with the same warm smile. “You’re welcome to stay for dinner if you’d like. I always make too much food, anyway. Emma and Chase are welcome too, of course.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Jaxson replied, “but we have a meeting at the elementary school tonight. The twins start kindergarten in the fall, and apparently there are about seventeen forms we still need to fill out.”

“Oh, how exciting! Kindergarten is such a big milestone.” Reagan’s enthusiasm was genuine, not the polite interest most people showed when discussing other people’s children. “Well, maybe you can all come together as a family sometime when Elijah is feeling better. I’d love to meet the twins.”

“I’d like that,” Jaxson said, and Elijah could tell he meant it. “Emma would love to have another woman around who doesn’t think our domestic arrangements are scandalous.”

After Reagan left for the kitchen, humming softly to herself, Jaxson turned back to Elijah with a knowing look.

“She fits,” he declared.

“What do you mean?”

“Into our world. Into your life. She fits.” Jaxson leaned forward again, his expression serious. “Don’t give up on her, Elijah. Don’t convince yourself she can’t handle who you really are without giving her the chance to prove you wrong.”

“Jaxson—”

“Listen to me.” His voice carried the weight of experience, of a man who’d found love in unexpected places.

“If an asshole like me could fall in love, get married, and become a father to two incredible kids, then surely an old bastard like you can stop being so fucking scared and fight for what he wants.”

The words hit harder than Elijah expected, cutting through all his carefully constructed defenses.

“What if I’m wrong? What if she runs?”

“Then you’ll know. But what if you’re wrong the other way? What if she surprises you?” Jaxson said. “What if the woman who’s been sleeping next to you every night, taking care of you without complaint, forgiving you for being an idiot... what if she’s stronger than you think she is?”

From the kitchen came the sound of Reagan singing along to music playing from her phone, slightly off-key but unselfconscious. The domesticity of it, the rightness of having her in his space, making herself at home, nearly broke his heart.

“Think about it,” Jaxson said. “Don’t make the biggest mistake of your life out of some misplaced chivalry.”

After Jaxson left, Elijah lay in his bed listening to Reagan cook dinner, wrestling with his friend’s words. Maybe he was being a coward. Maybe he was making decisions for her that weren’t his to make.

But the alternative—risking her rejection, watching her walk away when she learned the truth about his world—terrified him more than any stunt he’d ever performed.

The smell of garlic and herbs drifted down the hallway, along with Reagan’s soft singing, and Elijah closed his eyes. For now, for this moment, she was here. She was his. And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough.