Page 65 of Wildflower and Whiskey
She was already guiding me, the blunt press of me against slick heat, the both of us swearing softly at the same time when I pushed inside. We didn’t rush. We couldn’t have if we tried. Everything tonight felt like it needed to be learned and savored, like going fast would mean we’d miss a step and fall. I set my hands at her hips and let her ride me, slow, deep, controlled.
“I’ve never had sex without a condom,” I confessed.
“Me neither, it feels so good. So raw.” She rolled her hips.
The world was narrowing to the slide and pull of her around me and the way her eyes held mine when she started to tremble.
“I’ve got you,” I said, because I needed her to have that in her head when she closed her eyes.
“Don’t. . .” she gasped, clutching my shoulders. “Don’t stop talking.”
“You’re so damn beautiful,” I said, and it felt like truth and prayer. “So strong, Wildflower. I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”
She broke with a sound that hit me like lightning, shuddering in my hands, and I followed, groaning into her mouth, holding her through it so we fell together. We sat there after, breathing like we’d run, foreheads tipped, sweat cooling, the cameras a quiet, watchful hum around us. Her heartbeat slowed under my palms.
When she finally rolled to the side, I went with her, pulling the throw over both of us, letting the futon be a bed because we’d decided it was and that was enough.
“Stay,” she whispered, eyes half-closed, cheek on my shoulder.
“I’m not going anywhere.” I kissed her hair.
“Thanks, Phoenix,” she said.
“No, thank you, Elyna,” I replied. “I told you I wouldn’t leave you and Braden alone as long as Riley is a threat.”
“And after, when he’s no longer a threat?” she asked. I watched how hard it was for her to ask that question, her vulnerability was bleeding from her and it made me want her more.
“Even after, I’ll still be here,” I assured.
She blinked. I smiled into the dark and held her tighter.
The deck light flashed once and clicked off. My phone purred with the motion alert. I didn’t look. I waited for Elyna’s breaths to even out, felt the last of the tension leave her spine as her weight settled into me like trust. After a while, I eased out from under her and tucked the blanket up to her shoulder. She made a small sound but didn’t wake.
I checked my phone. Another motion alert. A moth, big as a coin, fluttering near the light. I exhaled. Somewhere out in the rows a coyote barked, quick and high.
I set the phone where I could see it without it glowing in her face and folded an arm under my head. People thought protectors are made. Maybe some were. Me? I think life circumstance brought me to this point. I wasn’t like Dad or Becket. I didn’t want to be a cop. Business was more my jam but the cold part of me, the part I kept off-limits, met a woman who was all warmth. She was warm enough to thaw bone. Then there was her baby and the sounds of her voice saying please like a prayer. Now I found myself in the loft I didn’t design for anyone that fits them like they were meant to be here. Like I was meant to be here with them.
No one would touch what had come under my roof. Not a fake delivery. Not a message typed in the dark. Not a man who played at danger until it bit him back.
“Tu n’es plus seule,” I whispered into the dim.
You’re not alone anymore.
This time the words just didn’t feel like a promise to Elyna and her son, but they felt like a promise to me too. And for the first time since this started, the night felt like it belonged to us.
CHAPTER 29
Elyna
The sun was setting over the trees in Val-Du-Lys. The Thorne property was always so well loved. The trees mature, providing just the right amount of shade on a warm day. It had been an unusually warm October, which meant we could take advantage of all the activities the property had to offer, and my boy loved to be outdoors. At a year old, Braden was taking a few steps by himself but he still needed his stroller to get around the large property. Phoenix pushed the stroller up to the front steps of the main house. Then we lifted the stroller together, Phoenix grabbing the front end so we could lift it up the stairs and into the house. That way if Braden got tired during dinner, I could put him to sleep in his stroller.
The house itself was glowing with lamplight spilling through the big windows, and firelight flickering from the stone hearth. Laughter carried out through the door, warm and unruly. This wasn’t my family. It wasn’t my home. And yet, with Phoenix’s hand wrapped firmly around mine, I wanted so badly for it to feel like both.
Pierre opened the door before Phoenix had the chance, his tall frame filling the entryway, eyes crinkling in a smile that waspart command, part welcome. “There you are,” he said. “Come in. We’ve been waiting on you.”
Behind him, the house smelled like roasted turkey and sage, like pies cooling on counters, like everything I’d missed and longed for without even knowing it.
Pierre leaned down to press a kiss to Braden’s cheek. “Bonsoir, petit homme. You’re growing too fast. Happy Birthday. We have special treats waiting on you.” Then he looked at me, and softer, added, “We’re glad you’re here, Elyna.”
