Page 38 of Own

Not that he made a sound as soft as his steps were. No, I’d heard him only because he’d let me hear him. Watching his reflection in the window made me smile.

“Your job?” I twisted to face him.

“You made sandwiches last night.” He raised his brows. “Don’t tell me you’re down here to start prepping breakfast.”

“Okay,” I said, managing to contain my own amusement. “I won’t tell you that.”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re giving me shit, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.” Deadpan took discipline, because I really wanted to laugh. “Though, I try not to cook too much when there are no fire extinguishers around.”

His lips twitched. “You and Alphabet will get along just fine.”

“I actually know that. We had a very similar discussion about not cooking in your kitchen. Though—I did make hot cocoa in it. That I can do.”

Like the others, he’d dressed for sleep. Though instead of sweatpants, he wore shorts and his t-shirt seemed a little tight. His biceps were on full display.

So was the tattoo on his right bicep. He had several others that I’d glimpsed, but this one looked like some kind of chemical compound.

“Hey,” he said, drawing my gaze back up to his.

“Hmm?”

He narrowed the distance between us, bracing his hands on the lip of the sink on either side of me. I had to tilt my head back to meet his gaze.

“You scare the shit out of me, Grace.”

“Why?”

“Because I find myself not wanting to let you out of my sight ever again.”

That didn’t answer my question. Or at least, I didn’t think it did. But he didn’t give me the opportunity to comment, not really as he dropped his hands to my hips and lifted me up even as his mouth came down.

His lips were hot and firm, the kiss searing as he took possession of my mouth. It wasn’t gentle or just a brush. It wasn’t a tease or a taste. It was deep, claiming and tasted like salt, smoke, and all the things that could never be spoken aloud.

When he wrapped his hand around my nape, and tilted my head to the side, he took the kiss even deeper. The strokes of his tongue staked his possession even as his lips branded mine.

The world crumpled up into ash, devoured entirely by the flame he fanned. It lasted forever and not long enough. Then he pulled back, just an inch and stared into my soul.

“Don’t volunteer to be the damn bait,” he said.

“I have to,” I whispered. “This is about me.”

“I don’t want you to risk yourself.”

“But it’s okay for all of you to take the risks?” I licked my lips, savoring the taste of him lingering there. Him. Alphabet. Voodoo.

They were all stealing away pieces of me and it was really hard to care.

“Yes,” he said, almost defiant. “We take the risks because we have the training. We know what we’re doing and if anything happened…you’d still be safe. Because one of us is always going to be with you.”

His words dug in, fisting my heart, and squeezed the tears from my eyes.

“I need you to be okay.Allof you.” I didn’t want any of them to sacrifice themselves for me.

“And I needyouto be okay.”

Blowing out a breath, I pressed my hands to his chest. “Lunchbox…Ineedto do this.”

---