“Old enough compared to you,” he points out.
I giggle. “Mmm, but I’m an Aquarius. We’re all old souls.”
Blake lets out another laugh, trailing into a groan. “Don’t even know what that means. Please tell me I ain’t gonna have to like, look up your birth chart to get to know you better or some shit.”
“Nah. I’m not that deep into it.” I grin. “And you don’t need to know astrology to get that deep into me.”
His eyes spark, heating, a rumble vibrating under me and through him. “Truth be told, I wouldn’t mind getting deep into you again,” he purrs in his velvet, taunting voice.
I shiver, even as I laugh, slapping at his chest.
“Don’t be—”
There’s a sudden clatter from downstairs.
We both freeze.
And my heart stops.
Oh, crap.
We exchange a single wide-eyed look before we both breathe it.
“Andrea!”
He goes tumbling out of bed first.
“Stay here,” he gasps. “I don’t know what to tell her, about…” He just waves a hand at me, at the mess of the bed, before diving for his closet. “This.”
Biting my lip, I nod, pulling the covers up against me. I feel ice-cold without him, but I cling to the warm spot in the bed while he yanks his clothes back on and then goes bolting out the door, barely closing it behind him.
I close my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose, too scared to breathe.
I adore Andrea, and I really don’t want to hurt her.
I can’t even guess what his incoherent-hand-gesture-this meant.
Was it just a quick release of pent-up passion and attraction? Or does Blake have feelings and actually wants this to be a thing, but maybe…no, too many maybes.
Either way, finding out that I slept with her dad could upset Andrea.
Wanting Blake is complicated. Delicate. Kind of a minefield.
But worth it, I think.
He’s worth it, and I don’t think he quite sees it.
I frown, though, as voices drift up from downstairs. Blake’s, plus another male voice?
One I think I recognize, even if only vaguely.
Holt Silverton.
Blake’s brother.
Double crap.
This might not end well for a very different reason.
I should probably mind my own business, but I won’t lie.
I’m worried about Blake down there.
And I don’t want to see all the work we’ve done on his leg unraveled when he tenses up again from his brother stressing him out.
So I clamber out of bed and fumble into my clothes, wincing as my panties push up against me. He’s left me so sore and well-loved, well-used, that I feel like my legs have almost realigned. Whoa.
But I manage to keep quiet as I slip into the hall and head downstairs, hovering on the upstairs railing and listening before I decide if I should make my presence known.
Blake hasn’t let Holt through the door, even though there’s a fresh flurry of snow coming down outside, Holt visibly shivering on the doorstep.
Blake’s made himself a wall.
I guess Holt’s still public enemy number one right now. Something he’s clearly not happy about.
“Jesus, Blake,” he growls. “I don’t know what you’re mad at me for now. Is it something new, or the same old shit?”
“You tell me,” Blake snaps back in that calm, crisp way he has when he’s refusing to let his temper get the better of him. Almost the same way he dealt with Clark—asserting his authority but not lashing out when the other person can’t take it.
It tells me Blake still cares for his brother, underneath the venom.
Which is why I’m surprised when he says, “I’d run you out of this fucking town if I could.”
“But you can’t,” Holt answers. “It’s my home too, and I want to help rebuild it. I want to stay. And if I’m going to, we can’t keep circling around each other like angry skunks wonderin’ who’s gonna piss up first.”
There’s a decided twang to Holt’s voice that deepens with every word, a far cry from the smooth, purring voice he’d introduced himself with the other night. Interesting.
Blake actually grins. “So you’ve still got some country boy left in you after all.”
“Much as I’ve tried to beat him out of me,” Holt snarls back. “Now you want to let me in to talk or not? My sack’s about to freeze off out here.”
“Tragic. We don’t dare deprive the good ladies of Heart’s Edge, do we?” Blake mutters.
But he steps back, letting Holt inside.
Holt stomps snow off his boots, shakes out the collar of his jacket, then rubs a hand through his slick black hair. He glances around, starts to take off his jacket, but Blake shakes his head even as he pushes the door closed behind his brother.
“You ain’t staying,” he says. “Don’t get comfy. Start talking.”
Holt just looks at him, rubbing his gloved hands together, then sighs. “Fine. I heard about the arsonist.”
Blake’s jaw twitches. “Nobody keeps secrets in this town anymore.”
“This town is nothing but secrets, brother. It’s like everyone knows but acts like they don’t exist.” Blake snorts. “But look, you’re hunting him down, right?”