Almost reluctantly, Sal scoots herself out of Luke’s arms. “I’m fine.” Already her voice is composed. “Really. I am.”
“No, you’re not.” Lacey pats her sister’s hair. She purses her lips as she scans Sal’s wan complexion. “I don’t want you to be alone. I’ll stay with you tonight. I’ll—”
“No,” Sal cuts in decisively. “I want Luke.”
Luke’s brain spasms on the words, as if unable to process her request. Hell, he’s still shitting a brick over her nightmare. Now Sal’s talking about sharing a bed.
Sal turns her glittery green eyes to him. “If you want to stay, that is,” she adds.
If he wants. Christ.
“Remember, I snore,” he teases.
Yet his body can’t deny how much he wants this. To be beside his wife in bed, holding her close.
“That’s fine with me,” Sal replies.
It’s a struggle to keep his face neutral. His heartbeat pounds so loud in his chest he wonders if everyone can hear it.
Luke glances up to see Seth smirking. Asshole.
“O-kaaay,” Lacey says doubtfully to Sal. She stands. “But you call me if you need anything.”
As Lacey exits, she shoots Luke a ferocious glare.
Then Seth’s pulling the door shut on Luke and Sal, leaving the two of them alone.
Sal settles herself onto her side of the bed and runs a hand through her sweat-snarled hair. She still feels jittery from the nightmare, like all her guts are on a paint shaker.
From the other side of the bed, Luke’s observing her. His shrewd eyes haven’t left her face, the question hasn’t left his lips, so she gives him a small smile. Burrowing deep into the cool sheets, she stretches her legs long and says, “I’m okay, Luke.”
She can’t keep the sigh out of her voice. Luke, picking up on it, asks, “You sick of it? Everyone worryin’?”
“Oh yeah. Big-time.” Sal arches a teasing brow. “I bet you can’t go a day without an are-you-okay.”
He grins. “Hmm, you strike a hard bargain, but I think I can do it, darlin’.”
As Luke leans over to tuck the blanket up around her waist, his warm palm grazes her bare thigh. Sal shivers, just now aware she’s clad in only a T-shirt and cotton underwear. Not to mention, Luke’s just as scantily clad himself.
She watches him with a heavy-lidded gaze. A curl of heat slicks across Sal’s spine. Bare-chested, in lounge pants, Luke’s tan body is lean and muscular in the dim glow of the bedside lamp.
Sal’s attention drifts as Luke swipes a pillow from the bed.
She frowns. “Where are you going?”
“Floor.” One word. A gruff grunt.
Sal gives Luke a look. There’s something about this man and the way he calmed her tonight. No one can do that but him. She wants him in their bed. Beside her.
“Well, that’s dumb, so we’re not gonna do that.” She pats the mattress. “Get in here.”
His lips pull up in a smile. “Whatever you say.”
Easing himself onto the bed beside Sal, Luke flicks off the bedside light. Together, they slip beneath the covers, the room cast in a gray dimness. The sole source of light is the moon outside.
Sal, an arm tucked beneath the pillow, studies Luke. Here they are, two feet from each other. Not touching, not talking. Luke lies on his back, eyes closed. Sal utters a frustrated laugh. Hands to themselves, right?
Finally, the silence gets to be too much.