Page 84 of An Indecent Longing

Ben wanted to breathe a huge sigh of relief. “Yeah, you did. So what are we going to do about Dorrie?”

Good question.

And one Ian didn’t have an answer to. At least, not one that would satisfy everyone.

If Ian had his way, he’d lock her in their home until he and Ben figured out what the hell was going on. But even he knew that wouldn’t work.

He’d admired the woman he’d met at that fund-raiser six months ago because he’d seen her strength. She had a backbone, wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, and had a tender heart she wasn’t afraid to show occasionally. But he’d bet only a very few people saw that tenderness.

She’d shown him. And then he’d treated her like a leper. He had a lot to make up for. But this wasn’t only about penance.

“Let me send out some feelers to some people I know, find out if there’s a contract on Dorrie. I’ll talk to Max. You talk to Adam.” Ian sighed. “Shit. I’m too keyed up to sleep. You get a few hours. Sleep in my bed. I’ll wake you in three. Okay?”

Ben wanted to argue; Ian could see it on his face. But he kept his mouth shut and Ian would take that as a win for now.

“All right.” Ben pushed himself out of the chair and headed for the door. But he turned before he left. “You gonna be okay?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“No, you’re not. But I’ll make sure you are.”

Ben turned and walked away.

In some ways, they were closer than brothers. Their upbringing had forced them to be not just brothers but survivors, fighters back to back. Hell, Ian had deliberately flunked his senior year of high school so he could stay behind to watch after Ben for another year. Of course, his grandmother had kicked his ass over that, although he was pretty sure she’d known why he’d done it. The next year, though, he’d graduated and joined the Army, knowing Ben would join him soon.

But where Ben had been a decorated soldier whose record spoke for itself, Ian’s record was camouflaged in redacted documents and classified stamps.

Ben was right. He needed to deal with that part of his life. But it wasn’t going to happen tonight. Not while Dorrie was in danger.

Since he couldn’t do anything constructive for another few hours, he decided to watch TV, taking the laptop with him so he could monitor the outside security cameras for anything suspicious.

He’d just finished his second episode of Law & Order when he heard footsteps on the third floor. Probably Dorrie headed for the bathroom.

But then he heard them on the stairs. They stopped on the second floor for at least a minute and he held his breath so he could hear better.

Would she join Ben in bed? Could he stand to listen to them in his bed? And would they welcome him if he joined them?

But then he heard her footsteps again, heading down the stairs. He turned and nearly swallowed his tongue.

Sleep-rumpled, her legs bare from her upper thighs down. She wore only a pair of plaid men’s boxers and a black tank that clung to every slight curve.

Christ, he thought he might hyperventilate.

The only light came from the TV but it was enough to see her swallow hard and her chest rise as she took a deep breath.

“Do you mind if I sit with you for a while? I can’t sleep.”

He wanted to send her back upstairs but he knew that wasn’t going to happen.

He didn’t speak, just held out his hand and waited for her to walk around the couch and take it. Without a word, she sat next to him, close enough that he could feel the heat of her body despite the few inches between them.

He could live with that. For now. But he knew those few inches didn’t stand a chance for long.

The silence held for longer than he would’ve expected. He didn’t sit and stare at her, didn’t want her to be uncomfortable.

Then, about halfway through the next episode, she shifted and laid her head on his shoulder.

“How did you—”

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