Four hoursafter Eli andEmmett left, the Hummer pulls up in the drive. Eli gets out and walks around to the passenger side of the vehicle. I press my nose to the glass, and then run to the front door, throwing it wide. A gust a cool air blasts my hair all around my face, and my skin turns to gooseflesh. Eli trails behind Van as they slowly walk up the path. He has two butterfly bandages over his left brow, his eye and cheek are puffy from the fight, and his arm rests in a sling. He grins down at me, and all my breath leaves me in a rush. It’s been a really long day, and banged up as he is, he’s a sight for soreeyes.
“Hey,” hesays.
“Hi,” I saybreathlessly.
“Honey, we’re home,” Eli singsongs with a smirk, and Van turns and uses his free hand to give him thefinger.
“You’reokay?”
“Yeah, I’m okay.” He nods. “Did you miss me,country?”
“Oh my god, I thought you were going to die,” I blurt, and wrap my arms around him. Van hisses. His whole body tenses up and I shrink back. “Sorry. Where does ithurt?”
“Everywhere,” he mumbles, but he gives a halfhearted chuckle and tucks my hair behind my ear. “Can we come in? I’m freezing my balls off outhere.”
“Oh, shit . . . sorry.” I step back and allow them to enter. Van’s a little wobbly on his feet as he heads for the den and eases his big body onto the couch closest to thefire.
Eli throws his arm around my shoulder. “So, wifey, what’s fordinner?”
“Shut up, Boucher,” Van says, wincing as he positions his legs on the ottoman and rests his head against the butteryleather.
“Hey, I’ve been running my ass all over town for you. I don’t think it’s too much to ask that your little housewife cooks me a nice hotmeal.”
“I can’t cook,” I admit, shirking out of hisgrasp.
“She really can’t,” Van says. “She’s fucking shocking. Tried to make eggs and almost burned the goddamn house to theground.”
I frown and decide a subject change is in order. “Where’sEmmett?”
“Mymom’s.”
“Oh, so it’s just you and me again,huh?”
“And me.” Eligrins.
Van’s smile disappears. “Yeah, but you’releaving.”
“And if I leave now how are you gonna get up the stairs tobed?”
“I’ll just sleep here.” Van stretches. His face screws up in agrimace.
“Are you okay? Can I get anything foryou?”
Van smiles, and I think there’s a good chance he’s hopped up on pain meds because he leers at me with no attempt to hide it. I’m used to his cheeky grin, his lips curling up in the corners or an out-and-out smirk of irritation, but I’ve never quite seen this look in his eyes as his gaze rolls over me, drinking me in as if I’m a tall glass of water and he’s suddenlyparched.
“No, Stella,” he says, gently shaking his head. He glances at the guitar in the corner. “Will you sing forme?”
“Now?”
“Yeah.”
I glance nervously between him and Eli, who flops down on the sofa opposite Van. “But I’m not warmed up. And I think we should definitely eat first, don’tyou?”
“Eli can get usdinner.”
“What? I’m not getting youshit.”
“Orderin.”