She lay on her side, facing away from the door. She was covered head to toe with blankets. He’d gotten them for her himself and tucked them around her shivering body. Although he knew Deb and the nurses would have taken them off for the physical exam, they’d replaced them, making sure every inch of her body from below the neck was covered.
But still, she shook. He could see the trembling of her body from here. He couldn’t go to her, though. It was like he was rooted in place, frozen. “Why in the hell would she want me with her?” he asked, his voice quiet, lips stiff, hardly able to form words.
“Because she loves you. You love her. Any blind idiot could see that. And trust me, Luke, being alone sucks.” On the last word, his voice wobbled. Without saying another word, he reached up and placed a hand between Luke’s shoulder blades and shoved, hard.
Luke stumbled into the room, thrown off balance by both Quinn and his own fucked-up mental state. He shot Quinn a glare over his shoulder as Devon jumped. She fought free of the blankets to sit up, her face as white as the bed linens that now lay piled around her waist.
For a moment, they both were still, Luke once more frozen in place, and Devon staring at him with wide, turbulent eyes. His heart sank down to about the level of his feet; he could feel it sinking down out of the protective barrier of his rib cage, his gut, all the way down until it hit the floor. That look on her face, that fear, he was going to see it every day for the rest of his life; he’d see it every time he slept, every time he thought about her.
But he’d be damned if he gave her reason to keep looking so damned afraid. He’d brought this mess into her life.
“You’re a complication I don’t need.” She’d said that to him, and he’d argued, told her he was exactly the kind of complication she did need.
Devon had been right.
He’d brought complication, heartbreak, and fear to her life, and it wasn’t like she hadn’t already had more fear than any one woman should know.
Yet as he tried to tell his body to move, tried to tell his feet to take him out of the room, Devon cocked her head to the side. A slow smile bowed her lips upward.
Then she held out a hand, reaching for him.
Behind him, voice pitched low and quiet, Quinn said, “Stop being such a chickenshit.”
Reluctantly, Luke grinned. And then he did just that, crossing the room to settle down beside her. Nervous . . . hell, screw nervous, he was terrified as he laid his hand in hers, squeezed. She wiggled around in the narrow bed, climbing into his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck. “What took you so long?” she asked, rubbing her cheek against the front of his shirt.
“Sorry.” His voice was hoarse, and he had to clear his throat before he could say anything else. “Just needed a few minutes to get my head on straight.”
“Hmmm. Trust me, that’s an idea that’s overrated.” She yawned, reaching up to rub her eyes. “I’m tired. Kept waiting for you to get in here. I . . . I don’t think I want to sleep unless you’ll be here when I wake up.”
She tipped her head back, and Luke lowered his eyes, meeting her gaze. “Got your messages.”
Luke felt blood rush to his cheeks. “Ah . . . yeah. I couldn’t come by Tuesday. Figured . . .”
His voice trailed off, and she grinned, dimples appearing in her cheeks. “You said you’d just wait until you heard from me before you did anything. Does that include coming back?”
Everything in the world faded into the background as he stared at her. Come back . . . ? Threading a hand through her tangled hair, he asked, “Should I come back? Is that what you want?”
“Yes.” Her eyes skittered away, and in a softer voice she said, “Unless that’s not what you want.”
Relief crashed into him, and he lowered his head, pressing his forehead to hers. “If I had what I wanted, I never would have left.”
“Hmmm. Then you’ll come back?”
Pressing his lips to hers, he said, “I was just waiting to hear from you before I did anything.”
NINETEEN
“YOU sure you want to come back here already?”
Devon held Luke’s hand as she climbed out of the car. He wasn’t looking at her, though. He was staring at the house with grim eyes. The cops had given them the okay to come back, and although Luke had tried to talk her into staying at his condo for a little while longer, Devon knew that wasn’t the way to handle it.
Only three days had passed, and she still jumped at every strange sound, still flinched when somebody got too close. Well, somebody besides Luke. It was as though her bizarre fear of him had never existed.
“If I don’t come back now, it may never happen.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” Luke said.
“Yes, there is. This is my home, Luke. I love . . . I loved this house. I want to love it again. I want it to feel like home again.”
He blew out a breath, ran a hand through his hair.
She’d been right, she decided. She remembered thinking back in the summer if his hair grew out enough, it would curl. It did, just a little, the thick strands winding around her fingers when she played with it.
“Okay.”
Once inside, she had to remind herself to breathe. Her chest ached from holding her breath. Behind her, Luke shut the door. “You okay?”
“It’s just a house . . . It’s my house, and I’m not going to be afraid of it.” Still, apprehension had her body tense as she left the hallway and went into the living room.
“Just take it slow,” he said softly.
“No.” Turning to face him, Devon held out a hand. “I want you to take me upstairs, Luke.”
Brows dropped low over his eyes, Luke shook his head. “Not a good idea. Let’s just do it a little at a time.”
“No.” Just do it. One step at a time. So, doing just that, placing one foot in front of the other, she went to Luke. She had more ghosts to face than just the house itself, besides her bedroom. And there was only one way she could think of handling it: all at once, with him.
Rising on her toes, she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into him. “I don’t want to do it a little at a time. I want to go upstairs with you, and I want you to make love to me.”
His breath hissed out of his lungs in a rush. “Devon . . .”
“Luke,” she mimicked. Rubbing her lips against his, she said, “Stop worrying, Luke. I know what I want. I know what I need.”
His eyes burned into hers, and then he stooped, sliding an arm behind her knees. He lifted her, and cradled in his arms. Devon traced the outline of his lips with her fingers and watched his face. “I love you.”
Luke didn’t even remember the trip up the stairs. He didn’t remember carrying her into the room or putting her on the bed. He couldn’t think of anything beyond the sight of her face and the soft, gentle touch of her fingers on his mouth.
Cupping her face in his hands, he dipped his head and kissed her. She felt almost too fragile under him, and Luke went to roll off of her, but she slid her arms around his neck and muttered, “Uh-uh. Like this. Touch me, Luke. I need it.”
She didn’t have to ask him twice. Curving one hand over the slight flare of her hip, he stroked up, taking the hem of her shirt up, baring her belly, her torso, stopping only when her shirt was tangled under her arms. Levering up, he settled back on his heels and reached for the hem, watching her face closely as he stripped it off. Her hair floated down around her shoulders, curving over her breasts and spilling out over the white sheets in a russet banner.
“Too slow,” Devon muttered, and she sat up, reaching for his shirt. It soon joined hers on the floor, and then she reached behind her, unhooking her bra. She tossed it to the floor, but as she went to work on the snap of her jeans, Luke brushed her hands aside.
“I’m supposed to be touching you,” he reminded her, and he did just that, unsnapping, unzipping her jeans, easing them down and brushing kisses against her navel, her hip bone, the silk-covered mound of her sex, as he mo
ved. They hadn’t taken their shoes off, and he had to leave her jeans tangled around her ankles as he tugged hers off.
She sat on the bed, covered by the heavy veil of her hair, watching him as he climbed off the bed. His body, all golden skin and sleek muscles, made her mouth go dry. He reached for the button of his jeans but paused. Devon tore her eyes away from his hands to look at his face. “You sure about this?”
In response, she slid off the bed and dealt with his jeans herself, crouching down in front of him to push them all the way off. On her knees, she looked up at him as she reached up and wrapped her fingers around him, dragging them up and down in a slow, teasing caress. “Moving slow isn’t always the answer,” Devon whispered. “I don’t want slow, and I don’t want to think.”
Then, as he continued to stare at her, she eased forward and pressed her lips to the silky hard length in her hand. He groaned and bucked against her. Opening her mouth, she took him inside.
His hands shot up, fisted in her hair, tugging her back. Wild-eyed, he stared down at her. “Damn it, Devon.”
She grinned up at him. “It’s more fun when we aren’t thinking.” But then something dark and ugly entered her mind. “Unless . . . well, maybe you don’t want . . .” She hadn’t thought of that. Maybe he wasn’t ready. Hell, the doctors and nurses had been very clear about why they were doing a physical on her, why they were drawing all the blood work, every last humiliating thing they’d pushed on her.
Although Devon knew their precautions were unnecessary, maybe Luke wasn’t so sure. Or maybe it had nothing to do with that. Maybe he was mad at her for not believing in him. For telling him to leave. For a hundred little things.
Suddenly chilled, she brought her arms up, wrapping them around herself in an effort to warm up.
“Stop.” Luke sank to his knees in front of her and caught her wrists, easing them back down to her sides. “Stop. There’s no unless. There’s no maybe. I want you. I love you.” He dipped his head and pressed his lips to hers.
Opening for him with a moan, she arched against him. Big, hard hands wrapped around her waist and lifted her, holding her. “Wrap your legs around me,” he said, his voice guttural and harsh.
She did, and it brought her lower body in direct, close contact with his. Between her thighs, he throbbed, hard, hot, and silky. Wiggling, she rubbed herself back and forth against him, desperate. He reached between them, wrapped a steadying hand around his length.
“Look at me.”
The sound of his voice sent shivers down her spine, and when she lifted her gaze to his and saw the naked emotion, the desire burning there, everything inside her went all hot and liquid.
As he entered her, they stared at each other. Luke’s lids drooped down, and he muttered, “You’re so damn hot. Melt for me, Devon.”
She was already doing that—had already done it. She felt like a hot, drippy pool of wax, hardly able to move. Looping her arms around his neck, she rocked against him.
Pressing her brow to his, she stared into his eyes. Nothing else existed. Not for her. Not for him. Just the pulse and slide of flesh, the soft whimpers and harsh groans drifting, the stroke of a hand, the brush of lips.
It was hot, sweet, and perfect—and it ended entirely too soon. Luke worked a hand between them and touched her, whispering dark, erotic words into her ear, teasing and stroking and working her closer and closer, until the climax exploded through her. As she came, his arms went tight around her, and beneath her body, he bucked and arched.
He buried his face in her neck, growling out her name as he lost himself inside her.
“Much better when you don’t think,” Devon mumbled, dropping her head down and resting it on his shoulder.
His chest moved against hers as his breath sawed raggedly in and out of his lungs. “Definitely.”
Then he tightened his arms around her and shoved to his feet with a groan. “On the bed next time, though. Then we can just go to sleep.”
Still holding her in his arms, he flopped down on the bed and rolled to his side. He reached out and snagged a blanket. It was a bright, vivid blue, new. Tears burned her eyes as she realized that even the comforter they lay on was new. Luke had seen to that, she knew, doing whatever he could to make coming home easier, even when he hadn’t wanted her to do it so soon.
The shattered glass in the window had already been replaced. The curtains were also new, made of the same silky, vivid blue as the decorative blanket Luke had pulled over them. Sniffling, she snuggled against him and told herself she wasn’t going to get all weepy.
At least not yet.
It was easy, almost too easy, to drift into sleep, Luke’s weight pressed close to hers, his hands stroking up and down her back, his lips pressed to her temple. She was almost there when a harsh, shrill sound jolted her back into wakefulness.
She jolted, and then blood stained her cheeks as she realized it was just the phone. Luke pressed a kiss to her brow in wordless understanding and then rolled away, grabbing the phone by the third ring.
Rolling onto her belly, she pushed up on her elbows and stared at him. Listening to the one-sided conversation, she watched Luke. His long, nude body was a work of art, she decided. Too scarred to be considered perfect, she knew some people would probably see the myriad scars on his body as a flaw.
Devon didn’t, though. She loved everything about him.
“She’s doing okay.” Luke’s eyes met hers, and he smiled.
“I’m better than okay,” she drawled. “Who is it?”
He mouthed, My brother.
“Where is he?”
Luke rolled his eyes and then said into the mouthpiece, “Where are you?” Then he shifted the phone away from his mouth and said, “Getting gas.”
“Here?”
Luke nodded.
Rolling to a sitting position, she grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around her. “Tell him to come over.”
Luke frowned and then said into the phone, “Hold on.” He lowered it, his hand over the mouthpiece. “Why?”
Devon smiled at him. “The two of you saved my life . . . and he saved your life. It wouldn’t matter if he was a stranger neither of us knew. I’d want to meet him for that alone. But he’s also your brother. I think it’s time I meet him.”
Luke didn’t say anything right away, and when he did, his words were slow, almost reluctant. “Quinn’s not the easiest person to know, Devon. He can be an ass.”
Devon’s eyes dropped to the phone, and instinctively she flinched, although she knew the man on the other end of the line hadn’t heard.
Luke, knowing exactly what she was thinking, laughed. “He can be an ass, and he knows it. Devon, Quinn is . . . complicated.”
Grinning at him, she said, “Hey, not all complications are bad. Didn’t you tell me that?”
At first, he didn’t respond. And when he did, it was just a slow smile. Then he lifted the phone up and said to Quinn, “Why don’t you come over here?” He paused, shook his head. “Doesn’t matter if it won’t take long. Devon wants you to come over.”
Another pause. A short, “Yeah,” and then Luke disconnected. “He’ll be here in a little while.” His gaze dropped to her naked body. Her blanket had fallen off one shoulder and gaped in the front, exposing most of her lower half. “Maybe you should get dressed.”
“Hmmm. Yeah. Didn’t think about that.”
After a rushed shower, Devon dried off and grabbed a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Weaving her wet hair into a braid, she tossed it over her shoulder and dragged her clothes on over her damp body.
Luke was standing in the doorway, watching her and smiling. Caught off balance, she stopped in the act of zipping her jeans and said, “What?”
He just shook his head and said, “I was just thinking about calling Quinn and telling him to take a little more time getting here.”
The doorbell rang, and Devon finished zipping her jeans. “Too late.”
She started to go by him, but he reach
ed out an arm, blocking her. “Nah. He’d understand.”
“Understand you calling him while he’s on the front porch and telling him to take more time?”
He hooked a hand in the front of her royal blue sweatshirt and tugged her closer. He glanced down the neckline, eying her naked breasts, and then grinned at her. “Yeah. He’d understand.” He dipped his head and kissed her before letting go.
She was nervous, she realized, walking down the steps and down the hall. Her palms were sweating, and her heart was racing. Hell, she was more nervous now about meeting some guy than she had been about coming back to the house where she’d almost died.
But it wasn’t just some guy. It was Luke’s brother. His twin. And a man who had saved Luke’s life, helped save hers. No, definitely not some guy.
She opened the door with Luke standing at her back, a hand resting on her shoulder.
Quinn stood on the other side, his face unsmiling and his eyes unreadable. Unable to stop herself, she glanced back at Luke and then at Quinn.
Physically, the resemblance was staggering.
But Quinn’s features were colder. He wouldn’t smile often. That coldness was echoed in his eyes, but it wasn’t an expression Devon hadn’t seen before.
That kind of ice was almost always a shield. A barrier built out of self-defense, the kind erected by people who had way too much bad shit happen. It was a look Devon had seen on her own face a time or two.
Slowly, a smile curled her lips, and she held out her hand. Quinn dropped his eyes, staring at her outstretched hand for a minute. Something weird flickered in his eyes, and then a small smile appeared on his lips, softening the harshness of his features. He reached out, closed his larger hand around hers. He squeezed and then let go.
“Come on in,” she said, stepping back. As Quinn passed by her, Luke slid an arm around her waist and dipped his head, kissing her shoulder.
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