Page 16 of Protected from Malice (Blade and Arrow Shadow Team #1)

EDEN

I wish I could go back to three hours ago.

Three hours ago, it was still just me and Rafe.

Cooking together, our hands brushing as we reached across the counter, his body bumping against mine every time we tried to navigate the tiny kitchen.

I could steal quick, admiring glances at him as he prepared our food and I pretended to help but really did my best to stay out of the way.

Because I’m really not a good cook. At all.

But Rafe? He is.

And whew. Watching Rafe cook might be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen—his gaze all intense while he measured ingredients, his biceps flexing as he chopped and stirred, even his forearms looking hot and muscly with those veins popping out and his intricate tattoos rippling.

And then the little smiles he’d throw me, almost shy, like he didn’t want me to know how much he was enjoying himself.

I’ve seen Rafe cook before, back when he’d come to visit with Indy. But I was always afraid of being caught out, so I tried not to look at him too much. I didn’t want Indy to think I was openly ogling his best friend.

But in a more intimate setting… I stole glances. I ogled when Rafe wasn’t looking. And I let myself fall into the wistful fantasy that we were just an ordinary couple, cooking together. Not staying in a hotel for my protection, but rather, enjoying a vacation.

No, I haven’t been with anyone since that night. It hasn’t even been a consideration. But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t. It just means there hasn’t been anyone I wanted to consider it with. No one who even roused my interest.

Except that’s not entirely true. There is one person. He just wasn’t here. And he wasn’t an option.

He’s still not an option.

Not Rafe, who’s only ever seen me as Indy’s sister. As a friend.

Just because I felt something more when he hugged me doesn’t mean he did. And just because my heart erupted into frantic flutters when he held my hand doesn’t mean it meant anything other than comfort to him.

Although…

There were a few moments when I wondered. Like when he touched my hair so gently. When I thought his lips brushed the top of my head. When he hugged me and I felt his heart racing just as fast as mine.

If things were different, maybe I’d brave making a move. Maybe the next time we hugged, I’d kiss his bristly jaw. Maybe I’d snuggle beside him while we watched TV instead of being careful not to crowd him.

It’s ironic, really. Rafe’s so worried about his touch triggering me when in reality, it’s the one thing I want.

But hugs and wistful fantasies aside, I wish I could go back to our shared time together. When it was just us, teasing each other and laughing about yo-yoing and making bets about who could get a frog to jump further. When I could forget, just for a while, the real reason I’m here.

But three hours later, it’s impossible to ignore it.

Not with five men prowling around the hotel suite, making it feel ten times smaller. Not with the tension so thick it’s hard to breathe through it.

And definitely not with this meeting looming—the meeting when we have to talk about all the crappiness that’s happened to me all over again.

Something else that’s not awesome? Seeing the mixture of hurt and suspicion in Indy’s eyes whenever he looks at me. Knowing that he’s already feeling betrayed that I didn’t tell him about the events of the last month but called his best friend for help instead.

I understand why he’s upset. I’m just not sure how to explain why without hurting him again.

It’s not that I’m unhappy to see Indy. I’m not.

He’s my brother. I love him. Of course I want him here. And it’s a relief seeing him away from his sad apartment in Silver Springs, with the barren walls and gray furniture and all his decorations and photos still packed into boxes, just where they’ve been since the day he moved in.

It’s a relief to see emotions on his face other than depression and apathy.

It’s a relief to see a flicker of the old Indy; the one who liked to tease his friends and throw things at them when they weren’t looking.

But I forgot how crazy their reflexes are, because even though Ace’s back was turned when Indy threw the pen at him, Ace somehow knew and snatched it out of the air before it could hit him.

And it was such a relief to hug him. To know that my big brother was here, that he knew, that I didn’t have to keep this huge thing a secret anymore.

Well, he knows most of it, at least.

He knows everything that’s happened over the last month. But two years ago? The thing that’ll upset him more than anything else? No. I haven’t had the chance to tell him.

Lie. I could have pulled him aside an hour and a half ago, right after he got here. After he punched Rafe’s arm with his prosthetic hand—I know he chose that one because it would hurt more—but then gave him one of those manly half hug-half shoulder clap things and said it was good to see him.

That was another relief. That I hadn’t messed up the friendship between Indy and Rafe.

So I wasn’t overly eager to jump in and interrupt them.

And then the rest of the guys started trickling in; first Tyler, who only had to take a short flight from his place in Freshwater, California.

Then Ace, who hopped the first flight from Houston this morning, and finally Webb, who had to make the cross-country trip from New York.

Since then, the hotel suite has been a flurry of activity.

Tyler’s been checking out the security system Rafe installed and making tweaks to it, muttering to himself about all the supplies he needs to buy to make the place impenetrable , in his words.

Webb is quizzing Rafe about his bounty hunter jobs, wanting to know if any of the fugitives were on the most wanted list and what his most dangerous capture was.

Ace came with a stockpile of bomb-detecting equipment, which I’m not sure how he got through airport security.

He’s already making a plan to check the entire hotel on a daily basis, though he was quick to reassure me, “It’s not that I think anyone will try to set off a bomb here, Eden.

But better safe than sorry; that’s my motto. ”

Indy’s been bouncing between talking to his friends, giving Rafe a hard time for not calling him right away, and coming over to me to ask if I’m really sure I’m okay. All of which are better than the flat, disinterested tone I used to hear whenever I talked to him.

And Rafe.

If I weren’t looking carefully, I’d think he’s occupied with his friends. Talking to them. Quietly filling them in on the situation. Conferring with Tyler about security and how soon he can hack into the hotel’s surveillance system.

But I haven’t missed how his gaze keeps returning to me, carefully assessing.

Or how he’ll come over to me every so often to ask if I’m hungry. Thirsty. Tired. If I need a break.

The last time he came by, he even touched my hand—just a tiny brush of contact, but it made me feel less alone even though I’m in a room filled with people.

I know the time of reckoning is coming soon. When we all sit down to have our first official meeting, I won’t be able to sit in the corner of the couch, quietly observing. Instead, I’ll be the focus of everyone’s attention.

It’s necessary. And I have no right to complain, even if it’s silently in my head.

I asked for this. I put it all in motion the minute I called Rafe for help. And I’m thankful, really. Most women in my situation wouldn’t be nearly as lucky. Five former soldiers—no, not just soldiers, former Special Forces—just dropped everything to come help me.

I’m thankful. Really.

Just…

I don’t want to tell Indy the worst part of it.

I don’t want him to feel guilty for not being here.

And I’m scared I’ll end up hurting him even worse than he’s already been.

“Eden.” Rafe’s voice rumbles beside me. He rests his hand on my shoulder for a second as he continues, “Now that everyone’s gotten settled in somewhat, we’re going to get started. Is that okay with you? Or do you need more time?”

I lift my gaze to meet his. There’s something in his eyes—those intoxicating, mysterious two-toned eyes—that makes my breath catch. It’s not just concern, which I’m used to seeing by now, but something deeper than that. Protectiveness. Affection. Maybe even… something more.

“No, I’m okay,” I reply. Pushing up from the couch, I take a step towards the dining table, where six chairs are crowded around it. Rafe touches the small of my back, his fingers searing into my skin and melting some of the chill I can’t seem to get rid of.

He lets his hand linger there for a few seconds, and out of the corner of my eye, I notice Ace’s attention on us.

On Rafe’s hand, really.

A beat later, he smiles. Just a small one, tossed in my direction, not meant for anyone else to see.

What he thinks he sees, I’m not sure.

But I think he approves of it.

As Indy starts to turn in my direction, Ace swiftly intervenes, drawing Indy’s attention to him with a question.

Rafe doesn’t drop his hand from my back. And I’m glad.

I also get the feeling that, although I’ve only just met Ace, I like him.

We arrive at the table and drop into our seats. Rafe ends up on my left, and Indy on my right. Tyler flips open his laptop and immediately starts typing, more focused on what’s on the screen than the people seated around him.

Of the three men I’ve just met, Tyler intrigues me the most. Not because of his prosthetic leg, although I am interested in the details of it.

He’s wearing pants, so I can’t tell what kind it is, but after spending hours researching prosthetics, plus all my years of science in college and grad school, I can’t help but wonder about it.

But it’s what he’s been through that’s really caught my attention.