Page 64 of Evening Shadows

He shook his head. Already he hated leaving her to watch for a threat without a weapon. Any threat attempting to surprise them from outside wouldn’t succeed. They’d have ample warning for him to return to her. But, finding something deadly in the cave without carrying a weapon would be suicide.

The animal-free cave measured to nearly a good-sized living room. Plenty of space for their needs.

After clearing the area, he called Sam in to wait until the team arrived.

She stepped inside and toward the side wall where sunlight hadn’t penetrated the area. Rubbing her hands up and down her arms, he wished they could start a fire. He reached into the pack and pulled out the small blanket that had been vacuum-sealed to save space. Although chilled himself from the temperature drop in their enclosure, he handed her the olive-green blanket.

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine until the men come. Then I’ll swipe theirs.” He could also grab a mylar emergency blanket, but he’d survive without it.

With a nod, she reached for the one in his hand and wrapped it around her shoulders like a shawl.

“How long do you think they’ll be?”

Looking at the—thank God—waterproof watch on his wrist like it held the answer, nothing but honesty could exist on an op. Touching his earpiece to activate the mic, he requested, “Status report.” After nothing but an unreadable reply, he shook his head. “Don’t know, but I hope soon. We need to get out of these wet clothes.” He kept his eyes forward and nonchalance in his voice.

Even being cold, they removed their wet shirts and T-shirts, although she left her sports bra in place. Sam wrapped the blanket back around herself.

In only a few moments, his body temperature warmed. Not completely because his pants still clung to him, but better.

After that and without thought, she reached back and released her messy hair from its holder. Turning to watch her, he stepped closer as she ran her fingers through the wet strands now flowing over her shoulders and framing her exquisite face.

He needed to taste her mouth, to feel the softness of her breasts up against his chest both with and without a clothing barrier between them.

Seeing her shiver, he closed the space between them. “Sam.” He had no idea what he’d planned to say.

She turned to look at him and he was floored by the passion, flaming desire, and maybe love that flared in her eyes.

He knew his focus should be on the cave entrance, but this woman enthralled him. They’d only just begun what could be—would be if he could convince her—between them.

“Do you remember our first kiss?” They’d never spoken of the moment since it occurred.

She nodded and her eyes gleamed. “You were drunk.”

That he’d been, but he’d not forgotten the feel of her soft lips on his or her unique taste along with a hint of the strawberry margarita she’d been sipping. He hadn’t forgotten the heat when he’d slid his hands over her lovely ass, pulling her tight against him and how their bodies had molded together. If he hadn’t had morals, he’d have taken her to his bed that night.

It’d been a warm Thursday evening with the rain doing that annoying misting thing and the clouds covering the normally bright evening sky.

“You wore an incredible red dress because you and Beverly had been at some event before you two stopped in at the sports bar.”

Surprise lit her features. While he couldn’t remember what the women he dated before had worn, he couldn’t forget the image of her. A small fire flamed in her eyes. A fire he planned to have blazing before the night ended. “What else do you remember?” Her tone moved to suggestive.

He took a step closer, then stopped when the tips of her breasts and hard nipples—from probably cold and desire—touched his chest. “Actually,” he smiled slyly, “I remember when you entered, what you drank, and how long it took Adam to get you and Beverly to our table.” He reached and lovingly touched her cheek, his thumb rubbing across her lips. “And, with your shiny hair reaching the middle of your back, and your lips begging to be kissed with a clear gloss, you made a pretty picture.”

Yep, he remembered every single detail and hadn’t let it go after he’d turned her away. Sadly, but ironically, he’d worried about making Sam a widow when in fact, he’d survived and the man she’d married had died while he’d survived.

Ken closed his eyes to fight back the pain of losing his best friend while he coveted the man’s wife. Then to kiss her again a year after Lance’s death. She’d been right to push him away since she hadn’t been ready.

“Ken?”

He opened his eyelids and saw tenderness behind the heat in hers. “I’m going to kiss you now.” If she wanted him to stop whether by words, expression, or movement, he would, although he’d prefer she didn’t.

Sam tilted her head back so she could reach his mouth with her own. Even with only about a half of foot difference in their height, kissing involved his leaning over and her rising on her tiptoes.

He gently nibbled on her lower lip until he sensed the combined passion in them mounting. Claiming her as his own, he kissed her with a possessiveness through which his love flowed.

As their lips moved over each other and their tongues fought for dominance, his anticipation ramped up to an almost intolerable level. He needed her body next to his, skin on skin.

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