Chapter Thirty
Donovan let the hot water stream over his head and breathed in the steam. Contrary to the common wisdom that you should take a cold shower to calm down from feeling aroused, Donovan had always found that a hot shower did the trick. As hot as he could stand. By pushing himself to the physical limit, forcing his skin to tolerate temperatures that his instincts told him to jerk away from, he could focus his thoughts.
It worked this time, just like it had every time before. But barely.
He had to get Ella out of his system. He’d be leaving here before too long, and when he did, he’d be heading back to a job that required all of his brain, all of the time. His duty required it. He couldn’t get on that plane headed back east with thoughts of Ella still haunting him. As he rose into the air on that flight, he needed to leave his feelings on the ground behind him.
Every day, though, the prospect of being able to do that became dimmer and dimmer.
Cozy little evenings like this didn’t help, but most of it was his own fault. Hell, the other night at the pool—that had been all his doing. One hundred percent. What was he thinking?
When he’d finally gotten himself both clean and under control—and clean had been a hell of a lot easier to achieve—he turned off the hot water and climbed out of the tub. After towel drying his hair and body, he pulled on his boxer briefs, jeans, and T-shirt.
Realizing that his shoes were in the kitchen where he’d changed into his hiking boots earlier, he padded down the stairs and across the living room barefoot.
When he entered the kitchen, Ella sat at the table with her back to him, her long auburn hair curling down her back in a way that made him want to reach out and thread his fingers through it. He clenched his fists and let them go, then clenched them again. Every time he saw her, he itched to touch her. Every single time he noticed something about her that he’d never seen before, something so indescribably beautiful that it caught in his throat.
Mila and Troy were sitting across the table, and there was a board game spread out in front of them. Mila looked up from her task of earnestly explaining the rules to Ella and her face lit up at the site of Donovan. “Oh, there you are! I was wondering when you’d be down. Don’t worry. We didn’t start without you.”
Ella turned to look at him as Mila spoke, and his gut tightened as her eyes traveled up and down his body, taking in his damp hair, his T-shirt and jeans which still clung to his muscles a bit from the steam, down to his bare feet. He saw her eyes flicker as they moved, and her lips part as a tinge of rosy color touched her cheeks.
He allowed himself a small grin. He couldn’t help it. He liked turning her on—and, God, she was sexy when he did!
He moved quickly across the room and dropped into the seat next to her, putting an end to the tension before it became awkward. He looked at the board. “So, what are we playing?” he asked.
“Cranium. Do you know how to play?” Mila asked.
He shook his head, examining the complicated board. “Nope. Never heard of it.”
“Oh, God. Okay. Let me explain the rules from the beginning again.” She sighed, pretending to be put out, but it was clear to Donovan that she was reveling in being the authority on the game, as well as the center of attention in a room full of adults she loved and admired.
Love. Admiration. How long would she continue to feel those things for him if he didn’t make more of an effort to stay in her life. She was about to be a teenager, for God’s sake. He’d be lucky if she even took the time to bother with hate and derision in a few years if he kept on like this.
As Mila explained the complicated facets of the game, Donovan snuck intermittent glances at Ella. He couldn’t help himself. He was the moth, she was the flame. The incredibly gorgeous, sexy, sweet, and amazing flame. He understood now why the moths just rushed headlong toward the light with no thought for their own safety. What could something as banal as safety matter when compared to the kind of beauty offered by that damn flame?
“So, who should the teams be?”
He tuned back in to Mila’s voice when she asked that question. He opened his mouth to answer, but Mila barreled on ahead. “It wouldn’t be fair for me and Troy to be together. We, like, know everything the other one is thinking.” She paused to roll her eyes, but the casual comment was just one more small stab in Donovan’s gut. She continued, “And you and Ella are, like, best friends. So that wouldn’t be fair either. So what should we do?”
Ella popped in, then, her voice bright and cheerful. “Come be on my team, Mila. It’ll be girls against guys.”
Mila pumped her fist in elation at the idea. “Yes! We’ll kick some boy bootie!”
Donovan laughed. It felt so good, just so damn good, to be here in his kitchen, playing a board game with his family and with Ella, the smell of slow-cooker chili filling the air as it simmered on the counter across the room.
This is home, a small voice whispered in the back of his head. You’ve been wondering what you’re searching for, what you’ve been pushing so damn hard to find. Well, this is it buddy. Home.