Legacy Lost

by Jillian David

  She unbuckled as well and faced him, her Capilene-clad arms braced between the back of her seat and the dashboard, her eyes flashing. The only sound in the car was that of the heater and her light wheezes.

  Before she could say a word, he jumped in first. “You think you’re invincible? Think you’re better than other people? Because of your special . . . whatever . . . going on in your head?” He pointed toward her skull. “You’re not invincible. You’re stupid.”

  Her mouth gaped open. With an improper flash, he wanted to fill that mouth with his cock. Right up to the balls. Wow. This woman turned him inside out. Parts of his anatomy tightened up in instant reaction. He was mad. He was aroused. Hell of a combination.

  Shit. Quit thinking about it, or she’ll figure it out.

  He was in trouble. Years of suppressed feelings had bubbled up to the surface this morning. Too much stress, too tired. He couldn’t shove it all down like he usually did.

  The tiny whisper trailed across him like nails on bare skin. “My power helped to save a guy’s life tonight.”

  “What? You want a medal or something?”

  “No, I— We all saved him.” Swallowing, she stared at him, her orange hair wild and curly as she pushed it away from her cheek. “Seriously, why are you being so mean?” She coughed and he cursed himself for upsetting her. But she needed to understand. The woman had almost died last night.

  “I can’t have you going out there and getting hurt.”

  “Because of the team?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “No other reason?”

  He blew out a deep gulp of air. “Look, Shelby. I’m tired of watching you destroy yourself. Like you’ve got this penance to pay or something.” He crossed his arms. “What? Don’t you have a god complex with this power of yours?”

  “What? Is that what you think?” she sputtered.

  He wanted to see that same heaving chest action but with her naked. And with him on top of her. He was screwed. This conversation, this closeness . . . his head was fried in ways he couldn’t compute. And damn it, but he couldn’t stop thinking about what he wanted to do with her. To her. With another huge effort, he suppressed the thoughts. She didn’t need to know where his mind went when he looked at her.

  “Not completely.” He forced himself to focus on the conversation. “But I do think you are overcompensating.”

  “Like you do with your guilt over Kerr?”

  “What?” His hands went numb as a nasty jolt blasted through him. Screw hiding his feelings to protect her head. The level of pissed-off had exceeded the upper limit of his scale.

  After a flinch, she continued. “You think I can’t tell what you’re doing? Kerr never told me the whole story of how he got hurt, and you, Mr. Tight-Lipped, have said very little. But I picked up enough signals to piece together your own guilt about Kerr’s injury in Afghanistan.”

  “That’s hitting below the belt, Shel. And I believe we were talking about you and your ability and how you are using it to overcompensate.” There. Back to the real problem.

  “Fine. But wouldn’t you use this power if it meant saving someone?”

  Air escaped him in a huff. Yeah. He would use it to save a person.

  “Some days I really hate this stupid ‘gift.’” She made air quotes. “Even when I use it the right way, people still die, don’t they?”

  “What?”

  “We’ve found victims on Search and Rescue, but it was too late for them. Do you know how that makes me feel?” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Well, now I have this bonus ‘booster’ power. How’s that for an ethical dilemma, huh? Use the extra ability and stroke out half of my brain, but find out if the person is still alive and what their condition is. Or don’t use it and put our team at risk, only to turn up dead victims. Or abandon search targets who might not have been dead, had we known they were still living a few hours prior.”

  He grabbed the inert steering wheel. Anything to give his hands something to choke.

  “So what? You have the corner on dilemmas? On sadness and loss? On failure?” He paused. “Are you kidding me? Every team member hurts, deep down inside, when we can’t save a victim. I struggle with decisions to pull a team out, knowing that we could be leaving someone out there to die. We all struggle with life and death. We all deal with guilt. You’re no different.”

  Irritation, fury, and helpless worry for her safety blasted through him, and he no longer held it back. Let her feel all of it.

  Red bloomed on her neck and cheeks. Her nostrils flared. “Just. Whatever, Eric. You don’t get it. You wouldn’t understand. We’re both exhausted. Let’s get back to the ranch and put this day behind us. We both have work to do, thanks to whoever is trying to destroy my family’s ranch.”

  My family. Subtle, but the phrase hurt. Throw that slight in the pot of his insecurities. Damn bucket was near to overflowing at this rate.

  My family. Why did that phrase piss him off so much?

  Because he could never use that phrase. Not with any pride.

  Because his dad had divorced Mom and then left town. Then Mom found herself a real catch on Cougar World dot com or some other reputable dating site. Off she went to Florida, leaving Eric, in his senior year, with nothing else but his wits to try to make it to graduation. So yeah, he resented the family thing. And yeah, he needed to control as much around him as possible, a skill he learned on the fly in twelfth grade.

  He almost gave in and reached for the ignition, but then he caught himself, stopped, and pivoted back toward her. “No.” Letting go of the keys, he shoved his hand through his hair instead. “I’m tired of you throwing up walls all the time, Shelby. You don’t get to be in control all the time.”

  She made a fist of her hand on the dashboard. “What’s controlling things to you anyway?”

  Good question. Everything. Being able to steer his own life rather than being steered by it. “Damn you.”

  Since high school, he had made damn sure he had every aspect of a job or his life locked down tight. A few years of college, army, the hunting guide service—he had made deliberate decisions and executed them with success. Good old Eric, all point A to point B. Solid as a rock, with everything contained, all contingencies accounted for, and always managing the situation.

  “What? You’re the most controlled guy I know. Rock solid, day in and day out. And that’s good.”

  “But?” he seethed.

  That pointed finger indicted him. “Wouldn’t kill you to lose control once in a while. Take a risk.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Get out of your comfort zone, Eric. Try something that scares you. Life doesn’t have to be rigid management of all variables.”

  “Damn you, Shelby.” A bubble pushed up and outward from his chest and she winced and threw up a hand, like she wanted to shield herself from his emotions. Fine. She wanted risk? Wanted scary?

  Try this risk on for size.

  He sat forward, grabbed her arms, and yanked her over the console and onto his lap. With a flick of a button, he scooted the entire seat back and pulled her to straddle him. He locked his hands down hard on her thighs.

  Damn it, how long had he wanted her like this?

  Her eyes flashed. “What are you doing?”

  “Taking a risk,” he growled.

  The way her body pressed against him? So right.

  Hooking a hand around the back of her neck, he pulled her to him and kissed her hard enough to scrape teeth. With his other hand splayed over her lower back, he molded her body to his, trapping her hands between them. Her softness bent against his hard edges.

  He held her in place as he covered her mouth with his. The first time he kissed her should be tender and gentle. Should start slow and build. Begin with gentle, feathered touches, move toward the deeper embrace, junk like that. But damn it, he needed her in his arms. Wanted her to respond to him, to prove to her that he could make decisions, too, even without a secret power. He wa
nted to create pleasure for both of them.

  In the early dawn light, in the warm truck, with Shelby’s lean body curved into his, he took what he craved, drank from her lips, reveled in her hips pressed to his.

  Then she sighed, a tiny whisper of sound, and relaxed into him. At that moment, every inappropriate thought of how he could bring out more sighs and noises from her sent jolts of extreme interest to his cock. The damned thing had hardened into goddamned stone the second Eric got her on his lap. And for good reason, too. Shelby’s curves might be subtle, but they sure powered his ski lift. He wanted to explore every inch of her with his hands, his mouth, everything.

  As her hands fisted in the thermal fabric of his shirt, he groaned and clenched his hand in her hair, tugging her head back and opening her sweet mouth. He needed no second invitation when she parted her lips. He surged forward, thrusting his tongue inside, exploring the textures of her mouth. Damn it, the mountain air and apple pie scent that was uniquely Shelby short-circuited his brain and made him rock his greedy pelvis against hers. Way too many clothes between them. Damned thick alpine pants.

  He kissed her so hard that when she breathed, it was from the air he gave her, and damn it, he got off on that reality. Over the past few weeks, his fantasies had shifted big time. How much had he wanted her to give him complete control, let him provide for every bit of her pleasure, magnify it, and give it back to her over and over again? He had brought out those thoughts in the dark of lonely nights to fire his imagination while he lay in his bed. But this reality? So much better.

  He dug his fingers into her scalp and smiled when she moaned and rocked her hips against his.

  Contain the emotion. Don’t let her see all that you really want to do. It’ll scare her. Too much. Too soon.

  His vision had dimmed at the edges, so badly did he want her. But not here. Not in a truck on the side of the road. Damn it, Shelby deserved so much better than this.

  He had only so much to give. A small part of the man he was. Anything more risked losing control. Which meant losing himself.

  Pulling away for a second, he ran a thumb over her damp and swollen lips, taking in the view of her eyelids at half-mast, her head bent back on his hand. At this moment in time, there was literally nothing else he wanted in the entire universe than Shelby. Preferably naked and screaming his name.

  He’d lost his damn mind.

  Snap out of it, man.

  This was Shelby. His best friend’s twin. Now she sat on top of him, her long, sexy legs spread on either side of him, her body curved into his.

  If she knew how intensely he craved, she’d run for the hills. Damn her weird radar. He clamped down again on the stronger impulses so she wouldn’t pick up on them.

  Maybe if he opened the door to a relationship a tiny bit, one day she would walk through it. Would he have the courage to crack open his entire self and be completely involved with someone else? If that happened, he would need to cede some control over his life. Could he be with her the way he’d always wanted? Because he couldn’t do halfway with Shelby. And that risk of complete failure made him want to hit the fetal position every single time. He had to have her completely, without barrier or reservation. Would she ever want that, too?

  He kissed her again and set her away from his throbbing erection, giving the fella a break.

  “What the hell happened here?” she panted.

  “What needed to happen.” Stroking her pink cheeks until her eyes fluttered shut, he guided her mouth to his. The connection was tender, soft. Exactly what he should have done in the first place. Good ol’ Eric, always getting things backward.

  Feathering kisses over her sweet lips, he tasted and licked his way over the bow of her upper lip and the pillow of her lower one.

  “Eric?” she whispered against his mouth.

  He kissed her lips again. Couldn’t help himself. “Yes.”

  “You’ve really wanted this for a while?”

  He rested his forehead against hers. A sharp wave of embarrassment came and went. It wasn’t as if he could ever lie to her. “Yes.”

  “That’s a hell of a way to make up for lost time. Go big or go home, huh?”

  Chapter 8

  Eric had turned into an animal of the best kind. Ok, fair enough, she’d sensed a simmering . . . something under his calm surface for weeks. Possibly years, if she were honest with herself. But that was before her filters were nuked when her power jumped up ten levels. Even if she had guessed, she had no idea of the depth of his passion, his strength, his—she shifted her pelvis—yeah, his everything.

  Hello, he was a family friend.

  How had she missed the signals? Her brain was like a big satellite dish, picking up all the emotions around her. Did she have a blind spot for him?

  Yes and no. She studied his shuttered deep blue eyes and half-smile. Truth? She’d kept her filters turned up around him, almost by instinct. But for his part, there was a wariness beneath his gaze. Had he hidden his true feelings from her?

  That was like lying, right?

  Uh, no. Not exactly. Eric keeping typical human emotions to himself was normal.

  What she did, rooting around in people’s brain, eavesdropping, was not normal. Invasion of privacy, when it came down to it.

  He kissed her again until her head swam. God, she loved how he held onto her.

  Could she be with someone who wouldn’t let her in? Who held back his deepest self?

  Like normal people, you mean? No one was ever 100 percent honest. No one ever shared all the pieces of themselves.

  Could she handle a relationship if someone did share everything?

  Oh, God. That would be even worse, wouldn’t it?

  Prior attempts at long-term relationships had crashed and burned. As things had deepened to intimacy, her filters dropped. Let it be said that honesty was not the best policy. The last experience went straight to hell when she read an impression of the guy’s disgust for her scrawny frame and take-charge attitude. To be rejected on that basic of a level?

  She’d sworn off intimate relationships after that disaster.

  So, no. She couldn’t handle rejection, and her abnormal brain function made it impossible to ignore what people thought of her. If she were with Eric and he shot her down, she’d know it on every single level.

  Those wounds would never, ever heal.

  Could she trust someone like Eric to see her vulnerable?

  What if it didn’t work out? Then what? He wasn’t going anywhere. He was part of her family’s life with the business he shared with Kerr. She’d have to see him every day at the ranch and be reminded of her epic failure.

  Or even worse, he might leave for good.

  Life without Eric around? The possibility cut her to the quick.

  Damn. She had a choice to make. Open herself up to someone and risk eventual rejection. Or go on with life as usual where she would be safe and secure behind the walls she had constructed. She couldn’t hurt anyone, and more importantly, no one could hurt her.

  Sucky decision. She lifted her head.

  When he leaned forward for another kiss, she pulled away.

  “Ah, we’ve both had a really stressful twenty-four hours . . . ” she began.

  He blinked, his midnight irises ringing dark, intense pupils. “What?” Shaking his head, like he woke up from a deep sleep, he gave a curt nod. “Okay.”

  The flash of his pea-green disappointment coated and ruined every tingle of pleasure.

  His walls slammed down with the angry press of his mouth into a disappointed line. The warmth bled from his blue eyes until they became cold as the night sky.

  She plowed ahead, trying to ignore the fact that she conducted this conversation while perched on his muscled thighs. “And sometimes when people are stressed out, they do things they shouldn’t do. They think that something might be there that really . . . isn’t.” It hurt, saying the words she only half-believed. But cutting him loose early was the only way to pres
erve what friendship they still had left.

  A muscle popped in his jaw. “Damn it, you’re really doing this, aren’t you, Shel?”

  He shouldn’t call her Shel. That was unfair advantage. Although she was one to talk, holding all the cards with her mental powers. “I think it’s for the best,” she managed.

  When she shifted to get off his lap, his hands tightened around her hips. Then he lifted his hands and held them up, like touching her disgusted him. Figured. Better to find out now than beyond the point of no return.

  “Mistake. Got it,” he gritted out the words.

  Awkward in the truck cab, she bumped the console and his chest and legs as she scooted back across to her seat. Each contact of her body with his was torture. Not being close to him? Emptiness. But he wouldn’t be hurt in the long run, and neither would she. That was what mattered most.

  Thank God his cell phone’s ring interrupted the horrible silence.

  He glared at it for a minute then answered. “Yeah.”

  Shelby got a tingle on the back of her neck. Kerr. Her twin. The tingle wasn’t bad, though. She’d know if he were in trouble. Maybe he knew she was in emotional distress and called. Wouldn’t be the first time they’d picked up on each other’s personal issues. Embarrassing.

  Eric scrambled for a piece of paper and jotted down notes with a carpenter’s pencil and pad of paper stashed in the center console. “Okay. Will do. Be there in a bit.”

  “Everything okay?” she asked.

  He looked at her like she’d grown a third eyeball. Great.

  “Kerr wants me to pick up some items from the supply store before heading back to the ranch. Uh, I can drop you off at the ranch first, if you’d prefer.”

  “No need to go all the way out to the ranch and back to town again. Besides, I need some stuff for decorations.”

  A line formed between his light brown eyebrows. “Decorations?”

  “As in, for Christmas coming up? Crafts and wreaths. To decorate for family.” God, so snarky. She caught the flash of unhappiness and longing before he shoved it away. That was a low blow on her part.