Page 8 of Finding Forever

I feel his regard like a touch as I leave the room.

There’s a hum under my skin when I’m near him, like my nerves are tuned to a different frequency. It started when he carried me inside, when he lifted me as if I weighed nothing at all. For a moment I thought I’d been dreaming.

How often does that happen? Being swept off your feet by a ruggedly handsome man who looks like he’d walk through fire for you.

I set his boots by the woodstove to dry and take his clothes to the service porch. I rinse blood from the coat in the utility sink, watching the red swirl down the drain in the glow of the flashlight. Inches over and the bullet would have hit a major organ. Luke could have been killed. The realization disturbs me more than the idea of a stranger dying should, even more than the thought of being left to protect myself from Briggs on my own.

Hurriedly, I put everything into the washer. With a bullet hole in it, the coat’s ruined, but he’ll need it.

The bread goes in the oven, and I set the timer on my phone. Penny’s low growl from the mudroom is a reminder of the danger lurking outside. I snap off the flashlight and edge to the door window. Outside is blackness. Then the security light on the shed flashes on, illuminating the falling snow. I scan, looking for whatever set off the motion detector.

I feel Luke behind me.

“You shouldn’t be out of bed,” I say quietly.

“I heard the dog,” he says. “See anything?”

I shake my head, then realize he can’t see me. His warmth presses close, and my traitorous mind wonders what it would feel like if he wrapped his arms around me. If I leaned back against that strong body and let myself be held.

It’s not sex I’m imagining, though, don’t get me wrong, those bulges in his underwear had been…meaty.

It’s comfort. Belonging. The quiet certainty of being wanted.

Which is ridiculous. I met him an hour ago.

“The motion light came on,” I say, focusing hard on the darkness outside. “I don’t see anything.”

“Shed locked?”

“Yes,” I glance back. “That’s where I store fuel for the generator. If we lose power and Briggs is out there, I don’t see how we can risk going outside to run it.”

“Agreed,” he murmurs.

We stand in the quiet, close but not touching. The silence is heavy with things neither of us is saying.

“You can’t take the dog out,” he says. “What’s the plan?” His voice sounds strained.

“Puppy pads on the service porch.”

“Good,” he grunts behind me. “I want to make a circuit of the windows, get a look at the perimeter.”

I turn to face him. “Luke, you’re in your underwear.”

“And?”

“You’ll freeze. The kitchen’s warm with the woodstove. The rest of the inn isn’t.”

“I’m fine,” he says gruffly. “Where are my pants?”

“In the washer.” I huff out a breath. “You need to be back in bed. You were unconscious not that long ago. I’ll look through the windows and report back.”

“Not happening, Katarina.”

“Kit,” I correct automatically.

“I like Katarina.”

His simple admission makes my heart thump stupidly. We’re standing close, the dark making everything feel more intimate. I cannot fall for him.