Page 75 of Hold Your Breath
She pivoted away from the stove, and the whiteboard caught her attention. “Can we talk about HDG? I just need to do…something.”
“I can think of something to do.”
It took her a moment of staring at him to realize he was flirting. “Oh! Um, better not right now. That’s not very calming.”
He stalked—actually stalked!—around the breakfast bar toward her. “We don’t have to be calm.”
“I…uh.” Her mouth was suddenly dry, making it hard to swallow. She backed up as he advanced, and the image of an antelope being hunted by a mountain lion popped into her head. When her legs bumped into the back of the couch, she jumped, startled. He was just inches away from her, and he put both hands on the top of the couch, trapping her and reminding her of their kiss in her kitchen the night before. The memory brought back the reason that kiss was interrupted, and her hand flew to his chest, stopping him as he leaned closer.
When he went still, looking at her with an unreadable expression, she studied him, taking in the hard planes of his face and the concern in his eyes. Despite his predatory advance, it’d taken only the smallest amount of pressure against his chest for him to stop. It made her feel powerful and safe and so incredibly turned-on that she closed her hands, grabbing two fistfuls of his shirt so she could yank him toward her.
A rare look of surprise crossed his face before her lips crashed into his. It didn’t take him long before Callum’s stunned moment passed and he took over the kiss. There was no teasing this time, and little finesse. Their embrace was sheer raw need that had been building since their first real kiss in her kitchen.
She fumbled for the buttons on his flannel shirt, wanting to skip the fastenings and just rip and tear until he was naked. Her teeth closed on his lip, and he jolted. For a second, she felt guilty, worried that she’d been too rough, when his fingers threaded through her hair, and he yanked her closer.
Groaning against his mouth, she sank into him. She needed him, needed this, needed the sensations crashing through her body to prove that she was still alive. Even as she fell deeper into the kiss, however, Cal eased back, his hands slipping to her shoulders and gently holding her away from him.
“What’s wrong?” Her voice was still husky from smoke and want. “Is your phone ringing again?”
“No.” He moved his hands to cup her cheeks. “But I don’t want to take advantage. You’ve had a rough few days. Are you sure you want this?”
“Yes.” Biting the inside of her cheek, she dropped her gaze to his chin. “Maybe?”
Leaning closer, he pressed a kiss to her temple and then stepped back, his hands dropping to his sides. “We’ll wait until you’re sure.”
Now that her desire for him was settling back to its usual simmer, Lou knew he was right. It was too soon. She shifted awkwardly, looking anywhere but at Cal, much too aware that she’d just jumped the poor guy. “So…what would you like to do instead?”
His exhaled sigh was resigned. “Want to talk about the dead guy?”
“Can we?” she asked hopefully, her gaze returning to him.
He gestured toward the whiteboard, creating an opening for her to escape his too-tempting nearness. She took the out gratefully, hurrying over to the board and focusing much too intently on choosing a marker color. Magenta pen in hand, she looked over at Callum, who was still standing where she’d left him by the back of the couch.
“So,” she said, underlining Ian Walsh’s name. “Should we tell him about the evidence that might implicate his motorcycle club?”
Callum looked at her for a long second before circling to the front of the couch and sitting. “What do you think?”
Tapping the end of the marker against her pursed lips, she considered the question. “I want to tell him,” she finally said, “especially after last night. My reasons are more emotional than logical, though. I mean, he braved a burning building for us. It just strikes me as wrong that we’re keeping this vital information from him, you know?”
Leaning back against the sofa cushion, Callum looked thoughtful. “What are the cons of telling him?”
She turned toward the whiteboard, picking an empty corner and writing “pros” on the left and “cons” on the right. Under pros, she putNeed to look out for fellow rescuer.After a short hesitation, she added,Ian risked life for us—should treat him with equal respect.
“Okay,” she said. “Cons.” She scribbled,Sheriff warned Lou to keep her big mouth shut.andDo we want to give MC this info (especially if they did it)?
Taking a step back, she eyed what she wrote before turning to Callum. “I care more about the second con than the first. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not very good at following orders.”
His lips twitched. “I’ve noticed.”
She grinned at him. “So, we’re basically looking at whether we want to risk indirectly sharing this information with the club, then.”
With a nod, he leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees. “What could they do, if they did know?”
“You’re being very Socratic-Methody tonight with all these questions,” she observed, tilting her head to the side as she eyed him.
The lip twitch turned into a small grin. “Just trying to help organize your brain.”
After considering this for a moment, she gave him a nod. “Actually, it is helping. Thank you.” She paused. “What was the question again?”
