Still Waters (Greenstone Security 1)

On reflex, I immediately went to my bag and retrieved them, placing them in his large palm.

He gave me another lingering look before turning to unlock the door, my hand still in his.

The locks clicked and he opened the door, walking us into the hallway in silence, flicking on the lights and leading me into my living room.

The lights illuminated my small but cozy space. The blinds were open so the shadows of the sea in the distance were showing through the darkness. There was a white domed chair next to a bookcase that sat next to that wide window. Perfect for reading and being still.

That was the idea.

I never sat there.

Or read most of the books in that case.

Still wasn’t something I excelled at.

Keltan led me to the sofa I’d been on with Polly earlier in the day.

“Sit,” he commanded.

Like someone had come in and snatched my body when I was too busy drinking cocktails, I obeyed.

He let go of my hand. Then he stood there, in the middle of my black-and-white room, my black-and-white life, and leaked color all over the place. With one simple stare that was far from it.

“What?” I blurted, unable to take the stare. I instinctively rubbed the side of my mouth for errant lipstick. That must have been the reason for the stare, something on my face. How embarrassing. Then again, it was his fault. He was the one who had just kissed the sense out of me. It was his fault for smudging my lipstick.

I frowned at him, despite the look. The one that dampened my panties to an even higher degree.

“Just thinkin’ how fuckin’ insane it is that you look even more goddamn beautiful in real life than how I imagined you every single night of my last deployment,” he said, voice thick. He rubbed his hand over his mouth. “Taste better too. Didn’t think that shit was possible, but it is. Then I was thinkin’ what a lucky bastard I am for not getting killed or blown to bits so I could come back here and realize it.”

I blinked at him.

“Wow,” was all my drunk mind conjured up.

He grinned. “You say less than I remember. But I’m thinkin’ that’s on account of the martinis. Those are your favorites, if I recall correctly?”

He winked before turning on his heel and leaving the room, in the direction of the kitchen.

I nearly fell off the sofa, craning my head to watch his ass move in his jeans.

I continued to sit while he was gone, hearing cupboards opening and closing. I probably shouldn’t have done that, just sat still, frowning at my unused bookcase while trying to figure out if that all actually just happened.

A dinging from my purse gave me something to do.

I fumbled for the phone and squinted at the screen.

Rosie: What did you do to Dwayne? The alpha biker life-sized doll is malfunctioning. You break it you buy it, remember?

Me: Talk morning. With more coffee and less drunkenness.

Xoxox

Rosie: With all the coffee.

Me: Just replace his batteries or hit him on the side of the head. That should do the trick.

I decided telling her about Keltan at this juncture would not be good. Also, the man himself was striding back into the room with that walk he had.

It was a great walk.

I moved my head up to him, where he had a glass in one hand and a closed fist in the other.

“You have a great walk,” I told him when his legs came to rest in front of mine.

I craned my neck so as not to focus at the crotch in my face and try to make out the bulge. He was grinning from that angle. Didn’t even have a double chin.

Figures.

I’d have about twelve chins if our positions were reversed.

“Thanks. It has been somethin’ I’ve been working hard on,” he replied dryly. He held out the glass for me to take.

I did so, holding it uncertainly, not sure whether I should drink it or try and bathe myself with it to sober up.

It would ruin the sofa, I decided.

“Hand,” Keltan requested.

I immediately gave it to him to hold, since it had been so nice earlier. His chuckle filtered through the air as he enclosed my hand in his for a short moment, turning it so my palm faced up and he could drop two white pills in it.

“Take those,” he instructed.

I frowned at the pills. “You don’t need to roofie me, you know. I’m a sure thing. Pair that walk with the jeans and the….” I focused on the belt buckle and what was below it. “Sure thing,” I repeated on a whisper.

Keltan stepped back, his breath hissing through his teeth as he rounded the coffee table so it lay between us.

His eyes were hard, jaw tight. “It’s painkillers, babe. Proactive treatment for the hangover you’ll no doubt have in the morning.”