Page 10 of Let it Burn
Chapter 5
Lena
I wake to the faint snap of a tape measure and the rich scent of coffee curling through the air. For a second, my body stiffens, heart thudding—until memory slips back in. The storm. The couch. Zeke sleeping on my couch. My body’s still warm from where I curled against him. I wrap the blanket around me and get up. I find him crouched near the door, tool belt strapped around his hips, shirt tight over that broad chest, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. He looks good. Too good. And dangerously domestic. Like he belongs here. My pulse skitters at the thought.
He glances up when he hears me, and that grin—low and slow—blooms across his face. “Morning.”
“Morning,” I murmur, pulling the blanket tighter around me. My gaze dips before I can stop it. That stupid tool belt. The way it sits low, hugging his hips. He should come with a warning label.
“You sleep okay?” he asks, standing and wiping his hands on a rag. I nod.
“Figured I’d get started early. Got Maddox to drop everything off. Didn’t want to leave you alone.”
“You didn’t have to do all this,” I say quietly, my heart stupidly fluttering at the care in his voice.
“I wanted to,” he says simply, and something about the way he says it makes my stomach flip.
He heads to the little table by the kitchen, starts unboxing the smart camera and sensors. I follow him, fingers brushing the edge of the counter for support, trying not to be obvious about how much I’m watching him. But it’s hard not to. He moves with this calm, capable energy—like no matter what happens, he’s already got a plan. That kind of confidence is rare. And stupidly hot.
“You always this handy?” I ask, trying to keep my voice light.
He glances up, his brow raised. “You saying you’re impressed?”
I shrug, but there’s a smile tugging at my lips. “A little.”
He steps closer, holding up the smart lock and flipping it around to show me the app interface. “This one’s good. Easy to use. You’ll get alerts on your phone anytime it senses movement or someone rings the doorbell.”
“Fancy,” I tease, leaning in.
“So are you,” he murmurs before he can stop himself.
My heart stutters. “What?”
He clears his throat, smirking. “I said it’s fancy. But you are, too.”
That blush again. God. I haven’t blushed in years. But here I am, pushing hair behind my ear, red as a tomato like a shy teenager. “You’re trouble, you know that?”
His grin turns cocky. “Only if you want me to be.”
I laugh. I actually laugh. And it feels foreign and a little dangerous. But damn if I care.
“Check this.”
He passes me his phone so I can see the app up close. Our fingers brush. Again. It’s electric, that tiny flicker of skin against skin. I look up, and his eyes are already on me—dark, intense, warm.
“Zeke,” I whisper, suddenly breathless.
“Yeah?”
“Why are you really doing this?”
He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he steps back, gives me room to breathe. “Because you shouldn’t have to handle this alone. Because I want you safe. Because I... like being around you, Lena. A lot.”
My pulse hammers in my throat. I don’t know what to say. So instead, I just nod and look back down at the phone, pretending to study the app even though my hands are shaking.
He leans in again, his shoulder brushing mine, voice low and teasing in my ear. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”
“I’m not flustered.”
