“You’ve gone crazy,” Luke muttered to himself, rubbing his forehead.
He’d gone by the mall Monday before his shift started and found himself loitering in front of a jewelry store, staring at the rings, and now he was eying a jewelry catalog. “Pathetic.”
Hell, he hadn’t even told Devon he was in love with her. Luke wasn’t really sure why he hadn’t said it yet; it wasn’t exactly that he was waiting to hear it from her first. If he waited for Devon to say it first, he suspected he’d be waiting a damn long time. Although she wasn’t as shy as she first came off to be, she was guarded—very much so. He could even understand that. Devon would be the kind to take her time on damn near everything in life, and that was just how she was.
“Well, maybe not all the time,” he said to himself. A grin curled his lips, and he shook his head.
She took her time, though. Anything important, she moved slow, weighed her options—sometimes for a little too long. That caution was a part of her, and Luke had a feeling it had something to do with why he hadn’t told her how he felt yet.
He didn’t want to spook her, scare her off. It wasn’t something he wanted to risk, not considering how gone he was about her. Blowing out a breath, he flipped the catalog open, turning past the displays of engagement rings and wedding sets.
When he came to a picture of a single strand of pearls, he paused.
Luke wasn’t much for gift giving. But he realized he did want to give her something. Just to do it. Just to see the look in her eyes and see that slow smile light up her face.
Mind made up, he flipped the catalog closed and tossed it in the trash along with the empty bottle of water. The rest of the junk mail ended up in the garbage can, too, and he finished cleaning the condo in record time. If he was lucky, he could avoid traffic, get to the mall, get back to Devon’s, and be ready before she got home.
The phone at his belt started to vibrate as he locked up the condo behind him, a garment bag slung over his shoulder. He tugged it off the clip and read the display. He recognized the number, and under normal circumstances, he would not have felt a little irritated.
Opening the phone as he jogged down the steps, he said, “Hey, Jeb.”
Jeb’s raspy voice drawled back, “Long time, no hear, stranger. Thought you were going to keep in contact.”
“Sorry,” Luke said, although it wasn’t exactly true. “Just been busy.”
“Poking and prodding people take up that much time?”
“Nah, but having a life does.” He unlocked the Jeep, tossing the garment bag over the passenger seat as he slid behind the wheel. “You remember a life, right? Football games, movies, women.”
Jeb laughed. “I can get a woman when I need one. Movies are a waste of time, and I’d rather watch paint dry than sit and watch a football game, Rafferty.”
Luke shifted the phone to handless, plugging it into the charger. “Yeah, my life’s gotten so mundane it would probably put you to sleep.”
“No doubt. Can’t see how you put up with it.”
Starting the car with a glance in the rearview mirror, Luke backed out of his parking spot. A smile spread across his face as he pictured Devon as she’d looked that morning when he’d joined her in the shower. Naked, wet, and so damn sexy—so damn his. “I muddle through somehow, Jeb.”
Leaving the condo’s parking lot, he joined the heavy flow of traffic on Nicholasville Road, heading toward the mall. The silence on the phone stretched out but he didn’t do anything to lighten it. Jeb had called for a reason. Just like Devon, that guy moved about as slow as an ice age at times. He’d say whatever it was when he was good and ready.
“So . . . you talk to Quinn much?”
Something shifted in his Luke’s gut. An odd undercurrent was there in Jeb’s voice, something heavy, something not quite right. “Couple times a month. He’s moving around a lot right now. At loose ends, I guess.”
“Everything okay with him? He ain’t answering when I call him.”
Frowning, Luke said, “You know how Quinn is, Jeb. He talks when he wants to, and screw it the rest of the time.”
Jeb’s only response was a noncommittal grunt. A few more seconds ticked by, and then Jeb asked, “He ever tell you why he got out?”
“No, but he doesn’t need to. Adam, the woman who died. He’d had enough. If he needs to tell me more, then he can do it when he’s ready to. But I’m not holding my breath about that happening,” Luke answered honestly. A little irritated, he said, “What’s going on, Jeb? And don’t tell me you called just to say hey. You’ve got some kind of agenda; I know you too well to believe otherwise.”
On the other end of the line, Jeb sighed. “Look, I’m just kind of worried about Quinn, that’s all. You had a reason to get out; you got hurt, and you were ready to leave. I get that. Losing Adam screwed Quinn up some. It hit all of us hard, always does. And the woman . . . Yeah, I know she had something to do with it, but still . . .” His voice trailed off, and when he spoke again, his voice was soft, worried. “Quinn just got it in his head one day he was done. Damn near a month since we buried Adam, there we were in the middle of a fucking war zone, and he decides, That’s it. I’m through. I thought for a minute he was just going to bail right then and there.”
“Quinn wouldn’t do that.”
“I wouldn’t have thought so, bud. But you didn’t see his face. I did. The rest of the team did. He hung in throughout that mission, and then he was just gone.”
“You make it sound like he went AWOL or something. Chances are he’d been thinking this through for a while and just hadn’t told anybody.”
“Maybe.” But there was a world of doubt in Jeb’s voice. “I can’t help but think the timing was sheer coincidence, sheer luck. If he’d gotten the idea in his head a few months earlier, I got a feeling he wouldn’t have served out the rest of his time. He would have just left.”
“No. He wouldn’t.”
“If you say so. Look . . . I’m just worried, okay? You know how it can get. All this shit, it gets damn heavy after a while, and I’d hate to think it got to Quinn.”
“It got to all of us, Jeb. No way it couldn’t.”
The traffic was lighter than he’d expected, and he got to the mall in near record time, but instead of climbing out and heading inside, he sat there in his Jeep, brooding. A knot of worry formed in his gut as he thought back to his last conversation with Quinn—and all the ones before that.
“You know that ain’t what I’m talking about, Luke,” Jeb said, his voice soft, almost gentle.
Something ugly and hot moved through him, chased closely by denial. Quinn had some bad shit in his head, but he wasn’t a bad guy. He was too strong for what Jeb was insinuating. He wouldn’t break.
But . . . it was an insidious whisper inside his head and one Luke hated with a passion. In that moment, he hated Jeb, too, for putting it inside Luke. “He being watched?”
“Since the day he pulled out.”
“And?”
“No and. Hell, if I had gotten answers that way, you think I’d be here yammering with you?” Jeb broke off, swore. “Look, I just want you aware, okay?”
Then Jeb disconnected, and Luke sat in the car, staring off into the distance without seeing a damn thing. Aware of what . . . ?
But the ugliest thing of all was that part of him already knew that answer.
No.
Shaking his head, he muttered it aloud. Quinn wasn’t the easiest guy around, kept too much hidden inside; that was nothing new.
But he was a good man. Solid. Decent. Nothing Jeb said, nothing that had happened to Quinn was going to change the core of the guy. Jeb might seem to think Quinn had reached some breaking point, but Luke knew better. He knew his twin.
Still, he needed to hear his twin’s voice. Needed to talk to him.
It took three rings for Quinn to answer, and when he did, his voice was soft, drowsy. “ ’Sup?”
“Nothing much. Just hadn’t talked to you in
a while . . .”
“WHAT’S wrong?”
It seemed to Devon that Luke had to force himself to look at her. The smile on his face seemed just as forced, and when he leaned across the table and took her hand, she couldn’t brush aside the feeling he wasn’t really there with her.
Not completely.
“Just some things on my mind,” Luke said, linking their fingers.
“Is it work?”
He shook his head. “Nah.” The thick fringe of his lashes drooped low over his eyes, shielding that soft, dove gray gaze. He took a deep breath, and she watched as he tipped his head back, rolled his shoulders, kind of like a prizefighter, getting ready to step into the ring. Then, bit by bit, the weird tension inside him seemed to fade away, and when he looked back at her, the smile on his face seemed a little more real, a little more natural. “I’m putting it away. I’ve got better things planned for tonight than brooding.”
Devon squeezed his hand. “But you make such a sexy brooder,” she teased.
His lids drooped low, giving him a sleepy look that only added to his appeal. “Really?”
The waiter appeared out of nowhere and left the bill, tucked inside a simple black leather folder. Luke slid a card out of his wallet and laid it with the bill, and as the waiter appeared once more to carry it off, he looked back at Devon. There was a grin on his face again, a secretive-looking one.
“I’ve got something for you,” he said softly.
She jolted. A ridiculous pleasure spread through her, and she felt a foolish grin curling her lips. “Really?”
In response, he reached inside the black suit coat. He looked damned nice in a suit, Devon had noticed earlier, the simple lines following the long, lean muscles of his body. Very damned nice.
Her mouth went dry as he laid a burgundy velvet box on the table between them. It was long and slender, the kind that usually held jewelry. Her heart skipped a beat. Looking from the box up to his face, she reached out and took it. Her fingers shook a little as she picked it up, shook even more as she flipped it open.
Candlelight gleamed off the soft, creamy white pearls as she lifted the strand and stared at it.
“I know you don’t wear much jewelry,” Luke said softly. “But I wanted to give this to you anyway.”
She rapidly blinked back tears. She was not going to cry. So what if it was the first gift she’d ever gotten from a guy? It wouldn’t matter if a hundred men had given her gifts, either. Because this was from Luke. Her heart clenched, and her voice shook as she said quietly, “It’s beautiful.”
Luke slid out of his chair and moved around the table, taking the necklace from her. Reaching back, she pulled her hair aside so he could slip the pearls around her neck. They were cool against her skin at first, warming slowly. She flushed hot as Luke bent over the chair and whispered softly in her ear, “I want to see you wearing just that when we get home.”
So that was why, less than an hour later, she stood in front of the fireplace, the crackling flames warming her skin as Luke slowly stripped her naked. Her knees went weak as he eased down the zipper at her back. The dress parted, cool air kissing her flesh. When he laid his hands on the shoulders of the dress and slid it off, Devon shivered.
As the dress drifted down to her feet, so did Luke, slowly kneeling in front of her and pressing his lips to her belly. Luke slid his hands around her back, unhooking her bra and tossing it to the floor. “I love the way you feel,” he whispered. Nuzzling the skin of her belly, he added, “The way you smell. The way you taste.”
Settling back on his heels, he stared up at her, laid his hands on her hips, hooking his thumbs in the low-slung waistband of her panties. “I really love the way you look wearing nothing but those pearls.” He stripped her panties away and tossed them off to the side.
Devon blushed hotly. The look in his eyes was one of sheer want, sheer adoration. Having all that hot male scrutiny focused on her made her self-conscious. She started to lift her arm, having half a mind to cover herself, but then she forced her hands back down, made herself meet his eyes. “I’m too skinny, too short,” she said.
Shaking his head, Luke leaned in, pressed a kiss to the soft skin between her breasts. “You’re perfect. Delicate.”
Snorting, she glanced down at her pale, slender body. Her breasts were too small, her hips as narrow as a boy’s. “Delicate, yeah. I guess that describes me well enough.”
He reached up, caught her breasts, plumped them in his hands. “Delicate . . . soft, sweet . . .” He breathed the last word against her flesh as he took one swollen nipple into his mouth. “I like delicate, Devon.”
Skimming his calloused hands down her sides, he tugged her down until she straddled him. He stared at her through heavy-lidded eyes, rocking against her. “This is what you do to me, Devon. I look at you, and I hurt.”
Arching back, she rubbed against him. His black trousers were too thick, too much a barrier. She could feel his heat, feel his hunger, but it wasn’t enough. “I’m hurting, too. Stop teasing and make love to me,” she demanded, and then she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close, slanting her mouth across his.
Luke laughed against her lips. “Greedy and demanding, too. I love a demanding woman,” he teased. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he rolled forward, pressing her back against the smooth stone floor, already warmed from the blazing fire. “The first time I saw this fireplace, I thought about doing this, making love to you here, seeing you in the firelight.” Shoving up, he knelt between her thighs and said, “Only thing missing is a bearskin rug.”
A startled giggle escaped her lips. “Bearskin rug? I’m hardly bearskin-rug-sex-fantasy material, Luke.”
“Hmmm. Speak for yourself,” he muttered, shifting down so he could sprawl between her legs. “I’ve had all sorts of sex fantasies about you, so I can guarantee the material is just fine.” Dipping his head, he kissed her between her thighs and added hoarsely, “Damn fine.”
Devon moaned as he nuzzled and licked the sensitive flesh. Fisting her hands in his hair, Devon rocked up to meet him. He pushed and teased, licked and nuzzled, until she was keening out his name and begging. When she hovered on the edge, he pulled away and stood up. Staring down at her, he started to undress. Slow, methodical movements, and all the while, his gaze bored into hers.
When he was naked, he came to her, kneeling between her thighs, sliding the flats of his hands up over her thighs, her hips, curving over her waist. “I need you,” he whispered. “I need you so much it hurts.”
His voice was hoarse, rough with emotion. It sent shivers down her spine and closed a fist around her heart. Lifting her arms, she waited wordlessly. Words were useless at that point; they couldn’t describe her own painful need for him or the way he managed to soothe her and excite her at the same time. Words couldn’t describe the way he eased the ache in her soul even as he created a whole different kind of ache.
And words couldn’t describe the pleasure as he pushed inside, slowly, teasingly. Hooking his arms under hers, he cradled her head in his hands and angled her face up to meet his, their gazes locked.
Slowly, with an almost lazy grace, he made love to her. His lips brushed over her brow, along one cheekbone, down the curve of her neck, each gentle caress lasting only a few seconds before he’d lift his head so he could see her eyes once more, almost as if he couldn’t stand not being able to see her as their bodies moved against each other. With the firelight flickering over them, turning their skin gold, their gazes remained locked.
As the climax started to break over her, Devon cried out, her lashes fluttering closed, and Luke slid a hand up, curved it over her neck, and angled her face toward his. “Look at me, Devon. Don’t close your eyes.”
Forcing her heavy lids to lift, she stared up at Luke, let him watch her as she came—and she watched him, watched as his face contorted in a sexy grimace, watched as he planted his hands on the ground by her head, arching into her and rasping out her name.
Even when it ended, and he rolled them onto their sides, they continued to gaze at each other’s faces.
“DAMN it, I don’t know how I can still be hungry, but I am,” Luke muttered, sliding the bag in Devon’s lap a dirty look. Her mother had stuffed the two of them so full, Luke thought he just might pop. But the delicious smells coming from the bag of leftovers had his mouth watering. “She put any of the pumpkin pie in there?”
A smile on her lips, Devon said, “What little was left after you ate half the thing at dinner.”
Luke grinned. “Hey, it was good.”
“Mom’s a good cook.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw her rest her head back against the headrest. “Yeah, I noticed. They seem like pretty decent folks.”
“They aren’t decent. They’re the best,” Devon said softly, closing her eyes. She fell silent for a moment and then rolled her head on the headrest to look at him when he came to a stop at a red light. “They adopted me a few months before I turned fourteen.”
He glanced at her.
She smiled. “Go ahead and ask, Luke.”
“Ask what?”
“Whatever in the world it is that you want to ask,” she answered. “Don’t tell me there’s nothing you’re curious about.”
The light turned green. As he pressed on the gas, he reached over and stroked her forearm. Through the thin silk of her shirt, he could just barely feel the faint, faded scars. “What led up to these? What happened to your real parents?”
“They are my real parents . . . just not my only ones,” Devon said, her voice soft, a little sad. “I don’t remember my birth parents much. They were killed when I was little. My mom’s sister was appointed my guardian.”
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