It was so quiet at night. Blessedly quiet. Better than an alley. Or the back seat of a car.
Tessa propped her head up on one bent arm, staring up at the ceiling. How much time had passed since she’d gone to bed? Hours, probably.
Hours of worrying. Wondering.
What was Brax hiding from her?
Something was going on. He had that tense, cagey energy about him, the way he’d acted while tracking that bail jumper. Like something was very wrong. Whatever it was, he wasn’t sharing it with her.
And that left her feeling slightly insulted. Wasn’t he the one who’d made her promise there would be no more secrets? Yet there he was a few days later acting secretive, putting up an invisible wall between them.
Why?
Naturally, her mind went first to the most likely answer: he blamed her for what had happened with Robert. Given time to think things over, he’d decided she was untrustworthy and too stupid or gullible to care about.
Why else would he have been so distracted when he’d gotten home from work last night? Distant. Like he was only half with her, half someplace else.
Weston had called to tell her Brax had had car trouble and would be late getting home. While she’d appreciated the call, why couldn’t Brax call for himself? Was he that dismissive of her?
He’d acted like it after finally showing up. She might as well have not been there at all. So much for looking forward to him getting home.
Not that he’d been mean or rude. That might’ve been easier to deal with. She was used to rude men. Being ignored, especially by Brax, wasn’t as easy to swallow.
He’d gone to bed not long after getting home. He hadn’t eaten, but that didn’t seem to matter half as much as getting away from her had. His movements had been stiff, like there was something physically wrong.
He hadn’t told her what it was. He’d hardly said a word.
She’d hoped to ask him about it in the morning, but he’d been gone by the time she’d woken up. That was early even for him.
He’d worked late again, not getting home until nearly ten o’clock. So yeah, seemed like he was avoiding her. If he hadn’t been so different before then—friendly, warm, curious about her and about how her day had gone—this sudden change wouldn’t have come as such a shock.
It looked like the more time he had to think about what she’d told him, the more distant he’d become.
Even now, lying in a darkened bedroom, just the thought of Brax losing respect for her and thinking she couldn’t be trusted was enough to make her chest ache. Tears stung behind her eyes. All they did was frustrate her.
Her stomach started growling. She hadn’t eaten dinner. She’d waited for Brax until it was clear he wouldn’t be home, and then decided to sleep instead. The stew was in the fridge now, though that wasn’t exactly what she wanted to eat at this time of night.
Or the morning. She’d finally checked the time—usually, she avoided looking at the clock since it only made her more anxious while she was lying awake—and found she’d been staring at the ceiling for three hours. It was almost half past two.
The thought of Walker waking up before the sun wasn’t pleasant, but now that her stomach was growling, she knew sleep wouldn’t be coming. Only eating would settle her down. She tiptoed downstairs in the dark house toward the faint glow of the kitchen. She was careful to be quiet, not wanting to take a chance on waking up Walker or Brax.
She stopped short when she saw Brax in the kitchen, bent over in front of the fridge like he’d had the same idea about food. He hadn’t eaten dinner either.
The impulse to run swept over her. Why did her mind go there right away? Why would she run from him? He was the last person she should want to avoid. Two days ago, she would’ve laughed at the idea. But that was before he’d started ignoring her.
He didn’t know she was there. She could get away and sneak back upstairs and avoid any awkwardness. She would have if it hadn’t been for something rooting her to the floor.
Him wearing low-slung sweatpants that looked like they were a moment away from sliding off his hips. No shirt. She could make out the lines of his slim waist, broad shoulders and muscular arms in the light from the refrigerator.
She could hardly breathe. Her mouth went dry. Good thing, since she might’ve started drooling otherwise.
He looked back at her over his shoulder. “Oh. Hi.”
She struggled to respond. “Hi,” she murmured.
Brax turned toward her and the sight of his left side made her gasp. A mass of bruises covered his shoulder and arm, then bloomed again on his chest and ribs. There were lacerations along his biceps and elbow. It was ugly and had to be painful.
“What happened to you?” she whispered with her heart in her throat. Seeing him that way was enough to cause her actual pain. If she had only known...
He looked down at himself, wincing. “Yeah.” He frowned, cleared his throat, looked anywhere but at her. “That car trouble I had two nights ago?”
“Yeah?”
“It was more like an accident.”
“Brax!”
“I’m fine.”
“Fine?” She gestured to him. “You don’t look fine. No wonder you walked around like a reanimated corpse when you got home. How did it happen? What sort of accident?”
“It was nothing.” He still wasn’t looking at her. “One of those things. Dark, empty road. Driving too fast. I get a little cocky sometimes, I guess.”
She studied him. Watched his subtle movements.
He was lying.
“There aren’t many things I’m really good at,” she admitted in a low voice. “But if there’s anything I know, it’s when somebody’s lying. You’d think I would’ve been smarter about Robert because of that, but...” She shrugged, then pointed at him. “You’re not telling the truth. Come on. You got away from those thugs who were following us without coming close to another car. You’re an excellent driver.”
He shrugged. “Things happen.”
“You won’t look at me. That’s another way I can tell you’re hiding something. No secrets. That was your rule. I can follow it. Can you?”
“You’re tough.” He sighed before finally looking her in the eye. “Okay. I wanted to keep you out of it, but I see that’s a waste of time. I didn’t run off the road. I was run off the road. By Prince Riviera.”
Her heart sank like a stone. “Oh, no. Brax...”
“I’m okay. See?” He spread his arms—even now, in the back of her mind, she couldn’t help but notice how very okay he looked.
Except for the hideous bruises that monster had given him.
“Why don’t you sit down?” She reached out and took one of his hands. “Come on. I’ll make you a sandwich. You need to eat, no matter how stressed you are.”
“I’d argue, but I really am hungry. You should be asleep, though.”
She giggled softly while pulling food from the fridge. “Why do you think I came down in the first place?”
He was quiet for a while as she put turkey and Swiss cheese together. “I’m sorry,” he eventually mumbled as she put the finishing touches on the sandwich and cut it in half.
“For what?”
“For keeping you in the dark. I didn’t know what to do or how to manage this, so I figured it was better to keep you out of it.”
“I understand.” Her relief was almost physical. Not relief at him being hurt, but at there being a reason he had avoided her. Especially since that reason was to protect her.
She started with her own sandwich, but a glance in his direction stopped her. “You okay?” she asked when he winced as he rubbed his neck.
“Stiff, you know? Nothing I can’t manage.”
“So stoic.” She went to him. “Eat your sandwich. I’ll rub your neck.”
“As long as you can manage not to strangle me.”
“Don’t tempt me.”
She was already massaging his neck before the realization that she was touching him registered on her awareness. It was innocent, of course, but still. He was shirtless and she was very close to him, and her heart didn’t know what to do with that.
“This is a great sandwich,” he grunted around a mouthful of food. “Just what I needed.”
“I’m glad.”
He looked up at her, touching one hand to hers. “I needed this too.”
“I’m not very good at it.”
“You’re just fine.” He pulled her around and into his lap before she could think to stop him.
Not that she would’ve wanted to stop him. Not for anything.
Even so, she had to know. “You told me a few nights ago you didn’t want us to go anywhere until all these problems were worked out.”
“I did say that.” His arms locked around her, pulling her close to his bare chest.
She touched a gentle hand to his bruised shoulder. “This doesn’t look like things are worked out.”
“Sometimes I wish I’d keep my mouth shut,” he grumbled.
There was no way to fight it. Not that she tried very hard or wanted to try.
Not when she was so close to him, and he was so warm and firm and strong.
His face filled her awareness an instant before his lips met hers and pulled her down, down into a sweet, soft kiss. Maybe it was two days spent thinking he hated her that made it so sweet. So special.
Soreness didn’t seem to slow him down. His arms tightened as the kiss deepened. She was careful not to hurt him but couldn’t possibly resist the urge to touch him. To feel for herself his smooth skin, the muscles warm underneath.
She was hungry for more than a sandwich. The sort of hunger he stirred in her couldn’t be satisfied by anything but him.
Her hunger deepened. The way he kissed her. The way he held her. The way his hand burned a trail down her back. Would she ever be able to get enough of him? Or would every touch and kiss leave her wanting more? The way they did now.
There was nothing in the world that could’ve stopped them.
Except for somebody who couldn’t speak, but could certainly make his presence known.
Tessa giggled when Walker’s cries came through the monitor. “He has a sixth sense, I swear.”
Brax blew out a sigh, then laughed. “His timing is impeccable.”
“He’s probably hungry. It’s almost three. I could heat up a bottle.”
There wasn’t much she felt less like doing than working her way off Brax’s lap, but it had to be done. What was she going to do otherwise? Their first time couldn’t be on the kitchen floor.
By the time she had water simmering on the stove and the bottle warming up in the pan, Brax brought Walker down to the kitchen.
She tried not to care that Brax now wore a T-shirt, but it wasn’t easy.
“Hey, buddy. You hungry?” Tessa stroked Walker’s smooth, soft cheek before kissing the top of his head.
“Yeah, he was telling me upstairs he had a craving for a turkey sandwich, but I reminded him about the whole teeth thing. They help when it comes to chewing.” The way Brax smiled at the baby melted her heart.
The three of them jumped when one of the living room windows shattered.
Brax handed a screaming Walker to her and positioned himself between her and the living room. Tessa might’ve screamed a little, too, out of surprise, but it was all a blur.
She followed a step behind Brax as they moved toward the sound. Her heart raced, and her stomach churned as she clutched Walker to her chest, cupping his tiny head and tucking it under her chin.
His arm shot out, stopping her before they reached the living room.
The smell of gasoline and burning carpet filled her nose. A dancing, flickering light reflected off the walls.
Fire.