How long before he opened our door and caught us unaware? My gut turned to ice at the thought. We still had Vanessa's killer on the loose. I couldn't remember anyone mentioning Forrest as a suspect. Hadn't he been out of town when she was shot? Was he simply another Bryce, searching for something to steal?
Tenn's chest pressed to my back, warm and solid. Safe. I should have been freaking out at our close call, at the presence of someone else searching Heartstone—I should have been freaked out at a lot of things. Instead, Tenn's arm around my waist, his mouth at my temple, the sheer heat and size of him made me feel safe.
Was it pheromones? It had to be. Pheromones, or hormones, or maybe I was going a little crazy.
I didn't need anyone to make me feel safe. I took care of myself, took care of my family. I hadn't needed a man for that in years, and when I'd had one, I'd still done it all on my own. So why did Tenn's arms around me feel so exactly right? Like I was finally where I was supposed to be?
I blinked away that thought. Now was not the time to get all googly-eyed over a hot guy who can kiss. Remember what happened the last time I got stupid over a hot guy? Except this was not that. For one, Tenn was a much better kisser. And, more importantly, he wasn't that other guy. He was Tenn, and—
The door across the hall swung open and the tall shadow emerged, gliding silently back down the hall toward the main stairs and out of the guest wing. As far as I could tell, his hands were empty. Had he found what he was looking for? Something about his smooth yet impatient stride made me think he hadn't.
"What the hell is he up to?" Tenn breathed by my ear. We watched in silence as Forrest disappeared from view.
"He looked like he had a plan," I said, stepping back into the dark guest room and turning to face Tenn. Sometime while we'd been plastered to each other on the bed, the sun had finished setting. I could barely see Tenn in the deep shadows of the room. It didn't matter. Whatever drew us together was just as alive in the dark. Maybe more so. "Has he been in the house before?" I asked.
Tenn thought for a moment. "I don't think so. I'll have to ask Hawk. He would know. It's possible Sterling's snuck him in before tonight."
"There's no way he got lost."
"No," Tenn agreed, stepping closer. Close enough to touch, though he kept his hands to himself. "He wasn't lost. He's looking for something. Popular activity lately," he commented with a raise of one eyebrow.
I wasn't taking the bait, but Tenn had a point. First Bryce, then me, and now Forrest. Were we all looking for the same thing? The idea seemed preposterous. And somehow, vaguely possible.
"Still not going to talk to me, Scarlett?" Tenn asked, his voice low. Patient.
I didn't say a word.
I wanted to. That was the crazy thing.
I wanted to tell him everything. and even crazier than that, it wasn't because I wanted to beg for his help—even though I needed it. I wanted to tell him everything because somewhere deep inside I hated the idea of lying to Tenn. Hated it.
If I couldn't tell him the truth, he could never know who I was, couldn't know me. Know my heart.
Why did it matter? Nothing would come of it. Tenn was gorgeous, and kind, the best kisser on the planet. And none of that explained my need for him to see me. To know me. To want me.
I kept my mouth shut and stared back at him. I wasn't going to give him some bullshit lie or pretend I didn't understand his question.
Before common sense could silence me, I whispered, "I can't, Tenn."
I couldn't see every nuance of his expression in the dark, but I saw his shoulder drop. I felt his disappointment.
If this were only about me, I'd tell him everything.
If this were only about me, I’d be rushing headlong into heartbreak and disaster just for another of his kisses.
I didn’t have that luxury. Not anymore. What I wanted didn’t come first, no matter how much I wished it could.
I was going to have to figure out a way to put this thing with Tenn aside and focus. Find the bust of Vitellius. Find Thatcher. That's why I was here.
I was not here to get naked with Tennessee Sawyer. That couldn't happen. And if following my hormones screwed up my life this time, with so much at stake, I'd never be able to live with myself.
Chapter Twenty
TENN
I could get used to this. I woke slowly, content and boneless with relaxation, a warm, soft weight on my chest. Scarlett. Yeah, I could definitely get used to this. In sleep, I'd wrapped an arm around her waist, my hand burrowing under her loose tank to flatten against her spine. Holding her close.