I sigh and hold up the cloth. “Please?”
He gestures to the bed and I slide over. He’s careful about my ankle, sitting close to the edge. He soaks the cloth and wrings it out. He looks at my face but takes my hand and starts the tedious process of wiping the dirt and grime from my fingers.
“Your sister is different,” he says. His closeness bothers me and I’m thankful for something to fill the air other than touch.
“Very,” I agree. “You know how the road is. It either kills you or makes you stronger. Jane came out stronger after a couple of tumbles.”
He drops the cloth in the water, wringing it out and turning the contents a murky brown. He isn’t done though, and picks up my left hand. “Tell me about this town you’re living in. What’s it like?”
I watch his hands work, more gentle than I could have expected. He’s calmer than I’ve ever seen him and it makes me nervous. I’m used to the pent-up anger—the lethal stance. It’s confusing.
“Catlettsburg has been nice. I mean, if you’re into that whole quaint, small town thing.” I smile and he lifts an eyebrow. “It’s weird to be somewhere that feels calm and separate from the rest of the world. The snow helped. Obviously it gave us a false sense of security. The danger was out there—just held back by Mother Nature.”
He reaches for my arm and pushes up the sleeve of my T-Shirt, exposing my bicep. “You’ve kept up your training.”
I flex, showing off. His hand is warm. “Jackson spent the winter attempting to teach me ju-jitsu.”
“Is Jackson the one on the table downstairs?” He stands suddenly and picks up the bowl, walking it over to the window. His body is all hard lines. His shoulders are wide, making the plaid of his shirt tight across the back. The hair on his neck and over his ears is little longer than he likes to wears it. It softens him, just a bit. He dumps the dirty water outside and returns to the dresser, where he uses a pitcher to refill the bowl.
“No, that’s Benjamin—Green. We all trained together. Walker and Jane, too.”
“How does your peaceful town feel about that?” He returns, taking a clean cloth, wetting it before reaching for my face. With one hand he cups my chin, and with the other he carefully wipes along my jaw.
“They don’t know.”
That statement hangs b
etween us as he washes my face. He knows me well. Even in a time of peace, I waited for the next battle. Patiently training—gaining skill and muscle.
He knows me, I consider, as he lifts my hair and rubs the dirt off my neck. He knows I’ll come with him, as if there was another option. I’ll fight with him. We both feel the tug of obligation and justice. My skin tingles, cooling as the water meets the air. He’s close enough that I feel his breath and wonder if he can hear my heartbeat thundering in my chest.
He returns the cloth to the bowl but his hand lingers on my neck and he just looks at me.
“What?” I ask, finding it hard to form words.
He licks his lip. “I didn’t know if I would find you. It’s a big fucking world out there, Alexandra. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack. Cole gave me a destination but what…” he swallows, “what if you weren’t there? What if it was a trap? What if you never made it?”
“I’m here.” I reach out and brush his cheek, then the spot above his heart. “And you made it.”
He pulls my head to his, our foreheads touching. “I’m not the kind of guy that asks. I’m the type that goes for it but this is different.” His mouth is close to mine—his lips a whisper away. “You’re different.”
That’s when it clicks. He’s been waiting on me this whole time. He waited though Cole. He gave me room to trust him. He followed me from the depths of the south, through the snow and a fire storm, to this little farmhouse.
I close the distance and kiss him, shocking him even though I know it’s what he wants. I grab him behind his ears, pulling us closer together. I don’t know what to expect but a shiver races down my spine, into my legs and sets my whole body on fire. I feel his heart pounding, or is it mine? It’s probably mine, but it may be his and I don’t know if it matters.
We kiss and it’s as good as I’d hoped and even dreamed about. I exhale as his feathery soft lips separate from mine and the heat leaves my mouth. His forehead leans against mine and I remark, “You wouldn’t stop talking,” as an excuse for what just happened.
“Are you serious?” His eyes are wild and I know I’ve started something I can’t take back. A small smile plays on his lips and he plants a hand on either side of my hips. I can’t take my eyes off of his mouth.
A knock at the door interrupts any response.
“What?” he says, not moving.
“Meeting in five minutes,” Davis says. “Downstairs.”
“We’ll be there,” Wyatt replies.
“Five minutes?” I ask, cheeks burning.