Her eyes widened for a second and then her hand dropped weakly as he turned and headed up the stairs.
“Where’s your key?” His voice was gruff and echoed into the dead air that swirled around them.
“Purse,” she muttered softly.
She leaned against him, her small frame shivering in the cold as he rummaged in her bag. He found the key, and a few seconds later they were in. The house was in darkness, the shadows long, but he knew his way—hell, he’d practically lived here when home on leave—and he headed down the hall toward her bedroom.
The light near her bed had been left on, however, the glow soft and muted.
“Oh God, the whole damn world is spinning,” she murmured next to his throat. “How much wine did I drink?”
“I’d say the whole bottle.”
She groaned. “Jake, why didn’t you stop me? You always stop me.”
His mouth tightened and he let her slide from his arms. She stood facing him, swaying unsteadily as she pushed the tangled mess of hair from her face. Her skin was pale, like vintage porcelain, and her eyes were large, exotic. She stepped backward and nearly fell onto the bed, and then cursed while trying to reach the back of her dress.
She glanced up at him and he shook his head at the question in her eyes. Not a chance.
“Just go to bed, Raine.”
“I will.” Her brow furled as she continued to stumble around and tug on her dress. “As soon as I get this off. It smells gross.”
“You can barely stand. Why the hell do you care what your dress smells like?”
“When did you become such a big fat grumpy head?” She giggled at that and nearly fell over, but he caught her.
On reflex, her hands moved forward and splayed across his chest as his large hands wrapped around her waist. Her hips poked into his groin, and the feel of her softness and the scent of her did all sorts of shit to him that he didn’t want. Every muscle inside him tightened, and he loathed the fact that he was instantly hard.
Jesus Christ, he needed to get a grip.
Jake gritted his teeth and stared down at her, hating the way his body betrayed him. Hating the way she felt so right.
Raine slowly raised her head, totally unaware of the effect she had on him, and giggled once more. “Jake, you look like someone pissed in your cornflakes this morning.”
“Well, that would be wrong,” he ground out, irritated.
“I don’t think so,” she slurred.
“I don’t eat cereal.”
She stared up at him for the longest time, and he shifted his weight in an effort to alleviate the stress between his damn legs. Something changed then—a softening of her eyes, a charge of electricity in the air. Whatever it was, it put him on edge and he glared at her, resenting the effect she had on him.
“That’s right,” she whispered. “You’re an egg-and-waffle guy.” She paused. “Jesse liked his cornflakes.”
Her hand drifted toward his face once more but he pulled back so that she couldn’t quite reach. Her finger brushed the air between them before falling back to his chest. She swallowed, and her eyes never left his, their shiny recesses full of something he couldn’t name, though he sure as hell recognized it.
The same damn thing was reflected in his own eyes.
“You look…lost, Jake.”
A muscle worked its way across his jaw. “I’ve been lost for a long time, Raine. There’s nothing new in that.”
“No,” she answered softly. “I guess not.” A sad, wistful smile claimed her lips, and his heart beat erratically as she gazed up at him. “But you’re home now. We can be lost together.”
Silence filled every single nook and cranny around them. He didn’t know what to say to that, so he said nothing and the two of them stood like stiff soldiers, staring at each other for God knows how long. But it was long enough that the cold claimed her and her teeth began to chatter as it took hold, leaving goose bumps across her flesh and shudders rolling over her slight frame.
“I’m tired, Jake. Can you just unzip me?” She turned in his arms and bent forward, though without his support, she’d have taken a header onto the floor.