Out of This World

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Out of This World Page 11

by Jill Shalvis


  I’d have let her head hit the table. “Oh, Axel,” I said sweetly but loudly, aiming for the front door. “How lovely to see you this morning.”

  Marilee bolted upright in Kellan’s arms, her gaze darting to the front door.

  Which was open, and empty.

  My eyebrows shot straight up as I sent Marilee a top-that-beeyotch look.

  She lifted a shoulder as if to say she’d had to try, then she slid down Kellan’s body. With a touch to his jaw, she smiled once more. “I’m okay now, thanks. I feel all better.”

  Uh-huh. I’ll bet.

  “You sure?” Kel asked, clearly still concerned.

  Unbelievable.

  “Oh yes. Really.” Marilee smiled. “I’ll be in the big house making breakfast.”

  “Uh…” Kel said, clearly remembering her sauce. “Yes.”

  “Give me about half an hour.”

  And then she was gone.

  “Huh.” He scratched his head and turned back to face me, looking like that rumpled, bemused professor again. A rumpled, bemused professor with no shirt and loose sweats slipping down his narrow hips, a gap between the string tie and his flat, firm stomach wide enough to dip a hand in—

  My brain was out of control. “That was a fake faint.”

  “Rach, she was shaking.”

  “I’m shaking.”

  “You are not.”

  “Well, I could be.”

  When he shot me an even, patient look, I lifted my fingers and made then tremor. “See? And oh…” With dramatic flair courtesy of freshman high school drama class, I laid the back of my hand across my forehead. “I feel funny…”

  Kellan’s eyes narrowed. “Stop it.”

  “No, I mean it.”

  “Rach.”

  “I’m going to faint, Kel. You’d better catch me.” I staggered backwards.

  He crossed his arms. “That’s not funny.”

  Damn it, why couldn’t he look at me with all worry, catching me up against himself, as he had last night?

  I wanted more of last night!

  Trying for it, I let my momentum take me backwards, confident that he’d catch me.

  Only I went down like a ton of bricks, smacking my head on the corner of the coffee table and seeing stars.

  Kellan swore sharply and dove for me, firmly scooping me up against his deliriously warm chest, stroking a hand over my face to scoop back my hair, and everything was as I’d wanted before I’d found out that exactly nothing was as I’d thought.

  Now he’d say how sorry he was. How much more beautiful and smart and wonderful than Marilee I was. And then he’d kiss me…

  “You idiot,” he murmured, and kissed my jaw.

  You’d think I’d be happy with one out of three, but no. “You lied to me, Kel.”

  He didn’t pretend not to know what I was talking about. “Didn’t lie.”

  “You omitted.”

  “Okay, yes. I omitted. How’s the head?” He slipped his fingers into my hair, cradling my head in the palm of his hand. “Hurt?”

  “A lot. And for the record, omitting is as bad as lying.”

  He sighed and pulled back, denying me those arms. His hair was all over the place, and now he wore an unreadable expression, one that made me want to turn the clock back to last night, when he’d held me and made everything okay.

  He rose to his feet and went straight to the window. He put his hands on the ledge, the muscles in his back and arms going taut as he pulled.

  The paint gluing the window to the ledge cracked, and the window opened with ease.

  Kellan stood there, utterly still, hands on the window, which was now lifted above his head. With the early morning sun slanting in over his gilded body, he made quite the picture, but that wasn’t what had me walking towards him, gently putting my hands on his back.

  “Kel.”

  Head bowed, he was breathing hard, as if he’d run a five-mile race uphill. Beneath my fingers, his body felt overheated and damp from exertion. I examined his hand.

  “How bad is it? Are you hurt?”

  “It was just a door.”

  “I meant from yesterday.”

  “I’m as okay as you are, I suppose.”

  “When did you figure it out?”

  “Last night.” He shook his head. “I’m just not quite used to it.”

  “Which begs the next question,” I managed shakily. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  He held still for another beat, then turned to face me. “You were a little wigged-out last night.”

  “So you were what? Trying to protect the little lady?”

  “Rach—”

  “No, you listen to me. You want me to freak out? Keep stuff like this to yourself. I mean, I can see through stuff, Kel.” I let out a disbelieving laugh. “And you…you’ve gone from some mild-mannered and easygoing guy to…to Superman, for God’s sake. I mean, what the hell?”

  He winced at the Superman comment, as I knew he would.

  And I could have added that his new strength came with an animalistic sexiness the likes of which I’d never seen before, but that seemed a little too revealing, so I kept that part to myself.

  As if he could read my thoughts, he narrowed his eyes and said, “You know, I’m the same guy.”

  “Are you?”

  “Yes! The same Kellan McInty. Nothing inside has changed.”

  “Okay.” I went into the bedroom and grabbed my duffle bag.

  Kellan followed me. “I haven’t.”

  I pulled out fresh clothes and headed into the bathroom.

  “We need to talk about this,” he said to me as I shut the door.

  In his face. Childish, I know, but how could he have kept this from me?

  He knocked. “Rach?”

  I turned away, and cranked on the shower. There. Could hardly hear a thing now, which suited me.

  “Rach?” he called through the door. “I know you can hear me.”

  When I didn’t answer, he turned the door handle.

  Crap.

  Leaping toward the door, I quickly locked it, not that that would stop Superman.

  Satisfied at his silence, I eyed myself in the mirror. Huh. I looked the same as I had before coming into the Twilight Zone. Same brown wavy hair that always vaguely resembled a squirrel’s tail when the air was dry, and it was very dry at the moment. Same eyes that needed mascara to look halfway good, but the mascara right now was somewhere in one of my two bags and not on my eyes.

  I’d been told I had an okay mouth, but I didn’t see it, mostly because it was down-turned at the moment.

  Finally I gave up trying to see anything different, and I dropped both Kel’s shirt and my towel to the floor and, naked, stepped toward the steaming shower—

  Just as Kellan broke the lock on the door.

  I put my hands on my hips. “Hey!”

  “Oh, that’s right,” he said, sporting a new and oddly arousing bad attitude as he eyed me up and down, reminding me that I stood there in my birthday suit and all its glory. “Voyeurism is your specialty.”

  Oh boy.

  Apparently, this was going to be a hell of a long few days.

  Chapter 10

  W ith some dramatic flair, I whipped the shower curtain closed. There. Now I could see him standing there, projecting a toughness that I had to admit was giving me a vicarious thrill, but he couldn’t see me.

  Fix that, Superman.

  I did my business with the soap, enjoying the fact that Kellan was on the other side of the curtain imagining what I was doing.

  Which didn’t make any sense, because I was mad at him.

  Wasn’t I?

  Hell, I didn’t really know anything anymore except that I’d never been more exhausted, confused or frightened in all my life. Fact was, even though I was an artist, I still enjoyed logic.

  And there was nothing logical about anything that had happened since the moment I had stepped onto that plane heading out of L.A.

&nbs
p; Probably the worst part of all of it was that for as long as I could remember, Kellan had always been a rock. All the way back in kindergarten, he’d been dependable. Reliable. There for me to count on.

  And now…now he was keeping secrets, which made me wary and…sad. I was sad.

  How could he have kept it from me?

  And that he’d managed to do so scared me most of all. And when I got scared, I tended to get pissy. Not particularly proud of that fact, but there it was.

  P-I-S-S-Y.

  I heard the bathroom door shut, and I knew he’d left.

  Good.

  Fine.

  Damn it. How typical of a man, running from conflict. Never mind that I’d run first.

  I turned off the shower and rung as much water from my hair as possible. I wished for a deep conditioner, but decided the hell with it. I’d just have squirrel-tail hair for the duration. Finally I opened the curtain, and let out a surprised squeak.

  Kellan hadn’t left.

  Nope, he was leaning against the door, arms and legs crossed in a casual pose that did not come close to matching the extremely uncasual look on his face.

  A part of me tightened. The part with all the erogenous zones. The part that I didn’t want to acknowledge, because I really wanted to hold on to my pissiness for a bit longer.

  His hair was sticking up, probably courtesy of frustrated fingers. His jaw was tight, scruffy. His long, rangy body practically shimmered with tension.

  Or maybe that was a lingering effect from the nice bolt of lightning he’d taken on, a fact that made me mad all over again.

  “I was going to tell you, damn it,” he said.

  “Oh my God. Can you read my mind, too?” I asked in horror.

  “No, it’s just all over your face.” His face grim, he tossed me a towel. “Hurry.”

  “Why? Do you have another revelation for me?”

  “Jesus, let it go. No, no more revelations. But whatever you seem to think, I’m a regular guy, Rach, and you’re standing there naked and gorgeous and oblivious. And if you aren’t more careful, I’m going to—” At that, he clamped his mouth shut. A muscle twitched in his jaw.

  “You’re going to what?” I wrapped the towel around myself and lifted my head, inexplicably breathless for his answer.

  He still hadn’t put on a shirt. His sweats were no barrier to my new eyesight. He was aroused—hugely so—and it made me tingle. A lot.

  He muttered something as he pushed away from the door, something that sounded like “You’re a fucking fool, McInty.” And then he was in front of me, yanking on my towel, tossing it over his shoulder, pushing me back into the shower and cranking the water on again, so that like last night, it rained down over us.

  The bathroom was still steamy, and with his hot body pressing me back against the wall, all I could see was his eyes, glittering with intent. I blinked through the water and stared at him, mesmerized by his strength, by his intensity, by the utter alpha-ness he’d never possessed before yesterday’s lightning bolt.

  “What did you just say?” he asked hoarsely.

  Had I spoken out loud? I hated when that happened. Shaking my head, I slid my arms around his neck, hitching myself up so that my legs could wrap around his hips and—

  But breathing raggedly, he pulled away.

  I tried not to cry from the loss. “I thought you were going to—”

  “Say it again.”

  “That I thought you were going to—”

  “The other part,” he grated out. “You said you’re mesmerized by my strength, my intensity, my—” He broke off, then winced, looking a little embarrassed. “My alpha-ness.”

  I crossed my arms. He looked at my breasts, plumped up by my stance, which elicited a darkly erotic sound from his throat, which in turn caused an answering tug deep in my womb.

  “You said I’d never possessed any of that before the lightning bolt,” he said thickly. He hadn’t moved toward me again, though the water was hitting him at chest level, running down his body, soaking into the sweats, which had to be damned uncomfortable now.

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “Yes, you did.” Shaking his head, he stayed just out of reach. “This…this heat between us.” He shoved his fingers through his hair, and turned away. “It’s because of what happened here. The lightning, or whatever it was.”

  “You are not walking away from me in this shower for the second time.”

  But he didn’t come back. The water sluiced over his broad shoulders and back, down all that sleek sinew, and then he stepped out of the shower, dripping bad attitude and water everywhere as he went.

  “You are,” I said in shock. “You’re walking away from me in the shower for the second time.”

  But I was talking to myself. I dried off and dressed, then with no small amount of bad attitude myself, I entered the living room. Kellan was dressed in his beloved old Levi’s and a T-shirt, and was pacing by the broken front door.

  “Finally,” he groused. “Let’s get a move on.” Then he walked out the door.

  Gee, sorry, Rach. Sorry that I didn’t trust you. Sorry that I hurt your feelings. Sorry I left you hot and bothered.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “What, you can’t see the thoughts in my brain?”

  Okay, he was definitely still attitude-ridden. “No. But actually…” I forced him to a stop, and pulled him around to face me, having to tip my head way up to look into his eyes, because he was trying to avoid me. “We should talk about this.”

  “Which part? The weird tendency you have for X-ray vision, mine to put my hands through things or your temporarily lusting after me?”

  I swallowed. “That last one. You’re…lusting, too.”

  “But my lusting isn’t anything new, Rach.”

  Oh boy. I had no idea what to say to that.

  Kellan waited, one hundred eighty pounds of edgy, unhappy, sexy-as-hell male.

  “Kel—”

  “You know what?” he interrupted. “Let’s not talk.” Turning, he headed toward the big house, where lo and behold, the back door wasn’t locked. “Of course not,” he muttered, and glanced back at me. “Stay close.”

  Oh yeah, I planned on staying close.

  We entered the kitchen. Axel was sitting on the counter in the same pose we’d found him in yesterday, chanting “ohhhmmm” and occasionally stopping to reach for a steaming mug near his hip.

  We hadn’t been particularly quiet when entering, so he had to know we were there, but he didn’t stop his chant.

  “Dude,” Kellan finally said.

  Axel turned, the tassels from his hat smacking him in the face as he smiled broadly. “Dudes.”

  The normal Kellan would have smiled back, patient and easygoing, but this Kellan had run out of patience. “What’s going on?”

  Axel blinked. “Well, I was just about to come and get the two of you to take you fly-fishing. You can’t come to Alaska and not go fly-fishing.”

  Fly-fishing? I pictured guts on a hook, and shuddered. “I really don’t think—”

  “Go with that.” Axel hopped off the counter. “That’s the beauty of fly-fishing. You don’t think; you clear your mind. It brings you peace, and all that.”

  “What we want is answers,” Kellan said.

  Axel nodded. “Yep. And answers. Fishing can get you all kinds of answers, trust me. Stay there. I’ll be right back.”

  And he walked off.

  I looked at Kellan.

  He looked at me.

  “This is crazy,” I said. “I don’t know how to fish. Do you?”

  “You wanted to learn new things.”

  “Yes, but I was thinking spa-treatment new things.”

  “He said there are answers out there. I intend to get them,” Kel said grimly. “And I’d really like it if you were with me so I wouldn’t have to worry about what you were getting into while I was gone.”

  Before I could retort to that, Axel came back into
the kitchen, now sporting a khaki vest with a ton of pockets and carrying three fishing rods and a small case.

  Thanks to my super vision, I could see all sorts of things in that case, including hooks and, ick, something that looked like it might be…flies.

  Double-ick.

  “Let’s go.” Axel pulled open the back door. We followed him, right up to the woods, and stopped.

  Axel looked back at us. “It’s not far. Just back where Jack left you off.”

  That quarter-mile trek had seemed like at least two hundred miles. And then there was the lightning problem. I looked up. No clouds.

  Marilee stuck her head out the back door. “Where are you guys going?”

  “Fly-fishing,” Axel said.

  A long glance was exchanged between Axel and Marilee.

  “Stay on the trail,” Marilee said firmly, mostly to Axel. “You have your map?”

  Axel slapped his hip pocket, frowned, then slapped his back pockets and frowned some more.

  With a sigh, Marilee came down the steps and walked up to him. She barely came to his shoulder. She tapped a finger over his left pec.

  Paper crinkled.

  Axel grinned.

  Marilee rolled her eyes and started to turn away, but Axel grabbed her hand, still smiling down into her face. “I knew it was there.”

  “Sure you did.”

  “Maybe,” he said, leaning in just a little, his gaze roaming over her face as if he wanted to memorize it, “maybe I just wanted you to touch me.”

  Marilee laughed as she planted her hand on his chest and shoved, sending him staggering back a few feet. She whirled away to hide her smile, hair flying around her head like a halo of silk as her hips swayed with her graceful, feminine walk.

  I wondered if my hips swayed like that, but I had to doubt it. When I was at work usually I wore a tool belt with paintbrushes hanging down, slapping against my butt and thighs. Hard to sway gracefully under those conditions.

  “Stay safe,” Marilee called out.

  “Yeah.” Axel rubbed his chest and watched her go. “You, too.”

  “Why wouldn’t she be safe here at the inn?” I asked.

  “Because it’s the in-between. Never all the way safe in the in-between.”

  Kellan and I looked at each other. “Um, what?” I asked.

 

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