Skin Heat

by Ava Gray

“He needs some blankets and food and water. Will he let me check him out?”

  Zeke sent the question. Would he? The coyote shivered, but didn’t move. He took that as a yes. She raced for the house, and if he knew her at all, she was glad of the chance to think about something besides her loss.

  After she examined him, she said, “Looks like broken ribs, but I don’t think he’s got any internal bleeding. I’d need an X-ray or CT to be sure, but I can’t imagine he wants to go to the clinic.”

  “Did what we can.”

  They left the coyote with food and water and a nest of old blankets. He could wiggle out of the barn the same way he came in, but Zeke hoped he would rest first. In his condition, he couldn’t hunt for himself too easily.

  He led the way back to the house and took her coat. As usual he didn’t have one. Didn’t need one, either. The house felt warm and welcoming with its bright new paint, but it was only half done. He needed her to help him brighten up that bedroom where his father had died in his sleep, and then the upstairs, too. If he let her, Neva could change everything. Without waiting for her to speak, he swung her up in his arms and carried her to the couch. He wanted her in his lap and right now he didn’t much care how she felt about it.

  Zeke rested his cheek against her hair and whispered, “Didn’t think I was gonna make it in time. Thought I’d lost you.”

  “I felt the same way when I found you in the woods.” A shiver went through her.

  He tightened his arms. “Got some things to say. Want you to listen and not talk ’til I’m done. Okay?”

  “Go on,” she said, resting her head against his chest.

  Because it mattered so much, he called up all his words. He’d never be as eloquent as he could’ve been before, casually, but he had to try. Feelings fought with the right way to get them out into the world, and he tensed. Make it right.

  “Know you said you loved me, ’fore I fucked it all up. Dunno if that’s still true, but . . . I do love you. Ain’t even the right word ’cos it’s like breathing, not something you stop unless you die.”

  When it seemed she would speak, he held up a hand. “What they done changed me.” He closed his eyes and the shame didn’t seem so heavy as long as he could feel her heart thudding against his. “Can’t read. Not even a little. Or figure out complicated stuff. Sometimes when you’re talking, I lose the meaning. Not ’cos I don’t wanna listen but ’cos there’s just too many words. May get worse. Can’t promise I won’t be worthless to you someday, just a strong back and no more. And . . . sometimes I roam in the night and I’m like an animal when I do. Partly s’why I ran. ’Cos I don’t wanna hurt you. Not you. But it don’t happen so much when you’re close. Think maybe I did it ’cos I was lookin’ for what I’d lost.”

  “Are you done?” she asked quietly.

  He let out an anguished breath. If she laughed at him, or walked away, he didn’t think he could survive it. “Yeah.”

  “Then it’s my turn.” She framed his face with her hands, brown eyes intent. “I don’t care. Loving you means I embrace everything you are. I understand you’re not like other men, and that’s fine. I love what you can do. If you hadn’t noticed, I like animals more than people most days anyhow. And if that affinity means you had to give up some things, then I’ll just have to love you more, so you won’t miss them. Do you understand now, Zeke? I’m not afraid of who you are—and I wouldn’t have you any other way. I’m in this, if you’re done running.”

  “Can help you at the clinic,” he said slowly, testing her.

  “Of course. You’re great with the animals. I’d be sorry to lose you.”

  “And can probably get some work doing repair work. Good with my hands.”

  She grinned. “You are. But do you really think money’s an issue for us?”

  “Used to be.”

  “One benefit of leaving you . . . I made up with my family. My dad will be unfreezing my trust fund, and I don’t feel like I have anything to prove anymore. I intend to pour money into this place and make it beautiful again.”

  Male pride gave him a flicker of discomfort. He wanted to take care of her, not the other way around. But maybe he could do that in other ways. If she didn’t mind, he wouldn’t let it sour the joy of knowing she loved him, however unlikely it seemed. He was still Zeke Noble with that terrible old truck and a rundown farm; he still came from a family laden with sorrow. And it all seemed pretty unimportant now. He stepped out of those memories like an ox slipping its yoke.

  “Parents won’t mind you settling?”

  She smiled. “I’m not. But they know you played a part in saving Luke and me. You have nothing to worry about, trust me.”

  “Guess there’s only one thing left, then.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Makeup sex.”

  Neva’s heart ached; there was no escaping from reality, but if he could make it go away for even a little while, then she was on board. Afterward, all the details would still be waiting: respects to pay and services to plan. Julie’s mother would need her. But for now, she wanted the sweetness of his mouth and the solace of his body. She could have so easily lost him last night, too.

  In answer she wrapped her arms around his neck and he pushed off the couch in a graceful motion. She’d never get over how strong he was, despite his lean frame. It sent a fresh thrill through her. Running her hand down his chest, she felt even more of his ribs. He hadn’t been eating much since she’d gone. Well, her, either—she’d lost eight pounds in a short time.

  The sun warmed the wood floors, gilding them in light as he carried her across the front room and up the stairs. In that moment, Neva felt oddly like a bride being borne to her marriage bed for the first time. He had that tenderness about him, and it melded so beautifully with the wildness that sang beneath his skin.

  She ate him with her eyes, drinking in his masculine allure, from the golden bristles on his jaw to the smooth bunch and pull of his muscles. But he lacked the ferocity of their first few encounters, as if he managed the beast inside him instead of the other way around. Something had changed for him out there in the woods; he had come out of that gauntlet in a manner refined, still himself, but at peace with it instead of forever fighting.

  Outside the bathroom door, Zeke set her on her feet and then pulled her shirt over her head. It was like he read her mind. She’d cleaned up a bit at the hospital, but after her ordeal, she wanted a shower before anything else. His storm blue eyes darkened as he peeled away her clothing. Now the intensity kindled, longing limned in adoration. How he’d ever thought she could want anyone else, after this, after him . . . well, thinking clearly wasn’t his strong suit.

  “Like a fresh start,” he said softly.

  Neva nodded. “Symbolic.”

  When he stepped back, she saw what he’d done. Though she had left before the renovations were complete, he had put her ideas into practice. The walls had been painted pristine white and he’d hung the ivy border around the top of the room. But he hadn’t stopped there. One night, she had been chattering about what else she’d do in there—and suspected he hadn’t been listening. Apparently she had been wrong, because he’d hung tiny Victorian portraits, the frames ornately and artfully tarnished, along with wicker baskets of ivy. He had even found a white lace shower curtain with a liner.

  Every item she’d mentioned, he had acquired, making her dream come true, and maybe it would seem trivial to someone else. Her throat thickened. It was just a bathroom. Just paint, time, and a few knickknacks . . . and it wasn’t. This room offered a promise from him to her, and by God, she would hold him to it.

  Zeke tilted his head, indicating the fuzzy green rug and the green marbled soap dish. “For you. Just like you wanted.”

  “I love it,” she breathed. “But . . . you knew I’d be back?”

  “Hoped. Someday. If I ever proved myself worthy.”

  “You always were.” Neva became aware she was standing in her bra and panties, gawking at
the bathroom. “Did you want to wait outside while I—”

  “No.” He’d never be a talker, but as he stripped his shirt off with measured intent, she didn’t mind. Zeke started the water running and shucked his jeans.

  My God, he’s so gorgeous. She ought to be used to the sight of him by now, but it had been awhile. Neva knew he’d never believe her if she said it out loud, but her eyes didn’t lie; he had a runner’s body, taut and lean and well defined. Her gaze wandered down his chest to his ridged abdomen over the concavity of his pelvis. He was already hard, and she hadn’t even touched him. No kissing. But the promise appeared to be enough.

  He stood, serious and still, as she studied him. “Water’s warm.”

  In reply she swept the fancy curtain back and stepped into the tub. Zeke followed close behind, and when he touched her, she felt the tremors in his hands. He wasn’t remotely in control, but he’d been trying to pretend. For her. So their makeup sex would be sweeter than the way they’d fucked on the kitchen floor.

  “It’s all right,” she whispered. “I just want you.”

  The words seemed to break something in him, and he gathered her close on a little growl as the water cascaded over them in a silver spray. It patterned his skin and she drew damp fingers down his side, reveling in his heat and power. He found her throat with his mouth, and then his teeth, nuzzling in the way that she remembered.

  Zeke drew her hard up against him, and she went boneless at the rasp of his chest against her breasts. His cock jabbed against her belly, and he circled his hips, a creature of instinct now.

  “Meant to go slow,” he growled. “Take my time.”

  “Too late for that.”

  “Mmm. Always is, with you.”

  But she had in mind to tease, so she slipped away. With wet skin it was easy. She put a bar of soap between them and lathered her hands. “Let’s finish the shower first. You can wait, right?”

  He hissed as her foamy hands slid over his chest. Lower. “Gonna kill me.”

  Neva watched his face avidly as she washed him, fingers playing over each muscle group. He stood like a beautiful statue, so hard she feared he might break, and she almost hoped he did. Except that would be frustrating.

  At last she finished rinsing him and he turned the tables on her. She’d expected him to push her against the wall, but instead he plucked the soap and went to work on her breasts, by now achingly sensitive; each touch sent pleasure careening through her. Neva arched, wanting his mouth, but instead he merely went on. He caressed everywhere: breasts, belly, hips, thighs. When he parted them to tenderly soap between, she almost came. But he didn’t give her enough stimulation, not quite enough, and then he splashed water, rinsing her. And he still wasn’t finished. The bastard washed her hair in soft, seductive swirls.

  Her whole body felt flushed and hungry. “Now? Please, now.”

  His reply came when he hitched her up and sank into her. Neva locked her ankles behind his back, gloriously full. He made her feel soft and small and so cherished. She rolled her hips, tightening her muscles on his cock. Zeke moaned. He gripped her hips and thrust in long, deep strokes.

  “Oh. More.”

  “Mine,” he whispered.

  “Always.”

  He bent his head and ran his mouth against her throat, biting a path to her shoulders. She wrapped her arms around him and held on, reveling in being taken. The water rained down, and she felt dimly amazed it didn’t evaporate on her skin. He held her with one arm and slid the other between them, fiercely focused.

  She clenched and came, quaking in his arms. An answering growl rumbled from his chest, and then he pinned her to the shower wall, each push a little harder than the last. His shocks mingled with hers, leaving her sweet and fluid with satiation.

  Thankfully he still had some coordination, or she would’ve collapsed in the tub. Zeke maneuvered them out and guided her, still dripping, down the hall to his bedroom. It was a little chilly, so they scrambled wet into the sheets and drew up his grandmother’s quilt. As she snuggled up to him, she realized—oops.

  But he shook his head, apparently reading her look. “Didn’t forget. Never wearing one again. Want you to mother my children.”

  The feminist in her considered bristling at his peremptory statement. But at base, she wanted children, too . . . and she was fine with the pregnancy happening when it would. Maybe if her father lived long enough, he’d even get to see his first grandchild. That possibility roused a warm glow.

  “No telling how long it will take. Sometimes people have trouble.”

  “Willing to keep at it.”

  “That’s selfless of you.”

  She felt him smiling against the top of her head. His fingers sifted through her hair, finger-combing the tangles. “Isn’t it, though?”

  “But there’s a price.”

  “Shit. No free lunch?”

  “Afraid not.”

  Zeke sighed. “Tell me.”

  “Dinner with my parents this weekend.”

  “Reckon that’s not too steep, given I aim to marry their daughter.”

  “Really?” She threw an arm across his waist. “I don’t remember being asked.”

  A wickedly delightful smile curled his mouth. “Think this is the right time? Figure you’re too weak to get away.”

  “Try me.” Scooting up in bed, she tucked the sheet beneath her arms and then folded her hands primly in her lap.

  To her astonishment, he bounded off the bed, allowing her to admire the tight curve of his backside, and padded over to the dresser. Surely he hadn’t—but yes. When he came back, he held a blue velvet box. Eyes on hers, he offered it to her.

  With trembling fingers, she flipped the lid, and nestled in ivory satin, she found two matching rings: white gold, art deco style. The wedding band had diamonds inset, and the engagement ring had several smaller stones instead of one big one.

  “Belonged to my grandmother,” he said softly. “Found those when I was cleaning the place. Had ’em polished for you.”

  “When?”

  Zeke ducked his head, adorably bashful. “’Fore you came to stay. I been wanting you so long, I can’t remember nobody else.” He came to his knees on the bed beside her and put out his hand. “Will you, then? Be with me always?”

  Other women might get more lavish proposals or more eloquent ones. But they didn’t come with Zeke Noble, and his wild, beautiful soul. Her heart sang like the meadowlark and whippoorwill outside in the trees, who didn’t have the sense to know it was winter, and they should be elsewhere. Or maybe, just maybe, knowing Zeke, they had come just for this reason, for this moment. She could expect such marvels in a life with him.

  “I will,” she whispered.

  CHAPTER 24

  It was not a glamorous party. For one thing, kittens frolicked underfoot. Each wiggle of the shoe brought out pouncing instincts. They were all litter trained now and eating dry kitten food, content in their new home.

  Neva’s mother had invited none of the crème de la crème, nobody who could boost their social status. Instead it was a relatively small gathering. The guest list consisted of herself, Zeke, Sheriff Raleigh, Luke, her parents, Ben Reed, and unexpectedly, Agent Hebert.

  She’d thought he would’ve been glad to see the last of this town, but he’d agreed to come to please Lillian Harper. Maybe his supervisor, Hal Birch, had something to say about it. For whatever reason, he was here sipping his wine and making small talk with the sheriff.

  It had been six weeks since Julie’s funeral. They’d hired a new tech to replace her, but she’d never be Neva’s best friend. That ache would never go away. She had helped the Fish family make arrangements; she’d bought flowers and made sure they had food in the house, and she still felt it wasn’t enough. Like she should’ve known somehow and saved her. But outwardly there hadn’t been any warning signs or clues about Travis’s secret life. Not until the end.

  Agent Hebert made his way to her side, moving gingerly; he w
as on leave from the ABI. From what she’d heard, it was his second medical absence that year. If she were him, she’d take it as a sign maybe he should consider a change of career.

  “It’s not your fault,” he said quietly.

  He wasn’t one for small talk, no more than Zeke, and she liked him for it, more than she’d expected the first time he turned up out at the farm, quietly annoyed at the sheriff’s warnings to handle her with kid gloves. Sometimes you found friends in unlikely places.

  “No?”

  “You’ll drive yourself crazy unless you accept that you can’t save everyone. Maybe that means I’m a bad cop, I don’t know. But I’ve realized loss is inevitable.”

  “It doesn’t. It means you’ve taken some knocks. We all have.”

  Despite the brightness of the chandelier overhead and the luxury of maids circulating with trays of hors d’oeuvres, none of this felt like home to her. She nursed no bitterness any longer, but she belonged at the farm now. Neva watched Zeke, but in this smaller crowd he seemed to be more at ease. It probably helped that everyone here accepted him without question.

  “As you probably guessed, I didn’t come over to talk philosophy.”

  “No?”

  “Zeke invited me to stay with y’all for a few weeks. He said he wants to take me fishing and make up for the fact he almost got me killed.”

  That surprised her. But she didn’t object. Her man didn’t take to people readily, so if he liked Hebert, she wouldn’t argue. The farmhouse had three bedrooms, and they only needed one. Hebert could stay downstairs in the newly renovated room. Zeke still didn’t like to go in there, despite the fresh paint, and last night, he’d confided in her as to why. But death didn’t linger; you could sweep away memories with fresh air and laughter. Everything went in its own time.

  “You’re welcome. I appreciate what you did for us. If you hadn’t shot him, if he’d been stronger . . .” Well, things might have turned out differently for everyone.

  The events of that night gave her the sense the universe might be connected in grand and mysterious ways. If not for Zeke’s abilities, if not for that coyote, if not for a cautious man choosing to take a risk instead—and the list went on. Because it all aligned, she’d saved her brother and come out stronger on the other side. Because she’d offered Zeke a job, she had her family back. This year she had much for which to be grateful.