Page 68 of Guarded from Danger

Don’t we all have our own scars, though? Memories that shape who we become? I do. So do all of my teammates. It doesn’t make us weak, but the opposite. I think those scars make us stronger. They let us know we’ve made it through some nasty shit and survived.

And my Lucy…

She’s so damn strong, even though I wish she didn’t have to be.

But now’s not the time for thinking about all that. Not on this beautiful morning, with the sun streaming through the windows and the apartment bursting with color. Not on the heels of such promising news, news that means actual dates and trips and a return to normal life again.

I can take Lucy to that house on the beach this summer. We can spend time with her parents, which is important, since I’m hoping to be their son-in-law one day. And we can head east to visit with my friends out there—the Sleepy Hollow team and some of my old Army buddies living up north in Vermont.

Man. They’re going to fall over from shock. Me, dating. In a committed relationship. And possibly engaged by then?

“Are you planning on starting the coffee, or are you just going to stare at it?”

There’s a hint of laughter in Lucy’s voice as she comes into the kitchen, her gaze on the coffee maker I was admittedlystaring at while lost in my thoughts. She grins, and her whole face lights up with it. “Were you thinking about last night, instead?”

I turn away from the counter and cross the kitchen to meet her, pulling her into my arms. As she tilts her head up to look at me, I capture her lips, first tasting, then taking the kiss deeper. She tastes of sweet mint, she still carries the soft aroma of the vanilla scented shampoo she uses, and her curves feel so right against me I can’t breathe from the rightness of it.

When we finally break apart, I just look at Lucy for a moment, memorizing everything about her. The spray of freckles across her nose. Her kiss-swollen lips. Her eyes, bright and sparkling like topaz. The streaks of gold and honey and bronze in her hair, shining as the sun hits them.

And the way she looks at me. Like I’m the only person in the world who matters.

“I love you, Lucy.” Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, I brush my lips across hers. “So much.”

“Oh, Xavier.” Her features soften. “I love you, too.”

Shit. She looks so gorgeous, I’m tempted to take her back to bed. Forget coffee and the gym. Forget a lazy breakfast after. We could spend all morning in bed instead.

Although, there was all the ravishing last night. It might be better to give Lucy a break.

Lucy’s lips quirk. “What are you thinking about?” But from the glint in her eye, she has a pretty good idea.

“Well.” To avoid further temptation, I head back over to the coffeemaker, adding over my shoulder, “Iwasthinking about ravishing you again. But then I decided it would probably be better to wait. Have our coffee, head to the gym…”

She sidles up next to me and leans against the counter. “I did enjoy all the ravishing. But I guess I’m a little sore. Maybe tonight would be better.”

“Sunshine. I’m sorry.”

“No. Don’t be.” Lucy smiles. “It’s a good sore. It reminds me of last night. And Idefinitelywant to remember that.”

A swell of pride fills my chest, a sort of caveman-esque satisfaction that comes from hearing I pleased her. “And you liked dinner? The flowers? And the?—”

“I loved all of it. It was such a special night, Xavier.” She plays with her new necklace as she adds, “It was wonderful.”

As the aroma of brewing coffee fills the kitchen, my phone buzzes from the counter. Not the official B and A tone this time, but a regular one, which means it could be just about anyone. But when I glance at the screen, I see Niall’s name flash across it, along with a message.

Headed to the gym in thirty. Want to spar for a bit?

Lucy’s brows raise in a silent question, so I explain, “It’s just Niall. He wants to spar during our workout. I’m thinking I’ll head down in about half an hour. Do you want to come? Or would you rather go over to Sarah and Dante’s place?”

She hesitates before answering, and worry spears through me. Did I mess up? Is she more upset about the news from last night than she’s letting on? “Do you want me to stay?” I ask quickly. “I can stay. We can have breakfast, maybe play some cards, watch a movie?—”

“It’s fine.” A pleased smile curves her lips. “Actually, I was thinking… Maybe I’ll just stay here. I… I had an idea for a story. In the shower. So I was thinking I might try getting started on it.”

Oh.

My nose prickles.

Lucy hasn’t been able to write since we rescued her from the cabin. She tried, but all it did was frustrate her to tears. And I know she’s been scared that she wouldn’t be able to write again. That somehow her experience stole her creativity.

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