Page 35 of Crossroads of Love

“Inside,” I demand, grabbing her arm to guide her back into the house. But she yanks herself free, turning on me with that same fiery defiance.

“Stop telling me what to do, Gavin! You don’t get to make decisions for me!” Her voice shakes, not from fear but anger.

“Quit being stubborn!”

Her eyes narrow, a flash of heat in them. “I’mstubborn? You havea lotof room to talk.”

The wind picks up, howling now, bending the trees so far that I half expect them to snap. The sky is churning. I can see another funnel forming in the distance, dark and menacing, dipping low and threatening to touch the ground. It’s not a matter of if anymore. It’swhen.

I stare back at her. She’s breathtaking. The irony isn’t lost on me that the storm raging around us is exactly the same as the storm churning within us.

She’s always been the woman I would give my life for. She’s always had this way about her that makes me love her and want to own her at the same time. A woman like Lena is a breathtaking contradiction of fire and softness.

“Dammit, Lena!” I yell over the wind, stepping closer to her again. “You’re always so worried about what other people think, whattheyneed, what’s best for everyone else. You put everyone else’s safety and well-being above your own, and that’snotokay! I don’t know who told you that you didn’t deserve to be your own priority, but they were wrong.”

She stiffens, her eyes wide for a moment, but then her expression hardens. “Not all of us can afford to be as selfish as you.”

I let out a short, sad chuckle. I can see the tornado in the distance now, closer than it has any right to be, barreling toward us. We don’t have time for this.

“I wasn’t trying to be selfish. I thought I was doing what was best for you.”

“Maybe you should’ve asked for my opinion instead of being a douche and making the choice for me,” she shoots back, stepping up to me, her finger jabbing into my chest.

That bratty fire in her is frustrating and sexy all in one.

I look down at her, my heart pounding. God, she has always been like this. Strong. Frustrating. She was never one to back down easily. And it’s driving me crazy. She looks exactly thesame, just a little older. I can see the sadness in those blue eyes, though, and that breaks my heart.

“Lena,” I start.

“You always…” she hisses.

I grab her wrist, pulling her against me hard. Her breath hitches as I pin her to the wall, the porch creaking beneath us as the wind whips around us.

“Dammit, woman, you’re going to be the death of me.”

For a moment, neither of us moves. Her chest presses against mine, and her wrist is caught in my grip.

She’s leaning into me like she wants this just as much as I do.Her eyes are wide, but not with fear. No, she isn’t scared of the storm. And she sure as hell isn’t scared of me.

I crush my lips against hers, kissing her with all the pent-up frustration and anger that have been simmering between us our entire lives.

God, she still feels the same after all these years.

She doesn’t resist. Not even for a second. Her free hand fists into my shirt, pulling me closer and kissing me back just as hungrily. I can taste the adrenaline on her lips, the desperation and need, and it matches my own.

The wind roars around us, the sky swirling into chaos, but all I can focus on is her. The low, ominous roar of the tornado reminds me of the danger we’re still in. I pull away and grab her hand, tugging her toward the door.

“We have to get inside.Now.”

She pulls back, not wanting to move.

“I will not let you put your life in danger,” I hiss as I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder.

I stumble into the house, slamming the door shut behind us just as the first real gust of wind hits, rattling the windows. I can hear the storm bearing down on us, the pressure shifting in the air, making my ears pop.

We barely make it to the small room off the kitchen when the world outside explodes into chaos. The sound is deafening, a freight train tearing through everything in its path. I shut the door behind us, plunging us into darkness.

I set her down on the floor, but I hold her tight, my back against the wall, her body pressed against mine. Her breathing is fast and shallow, and I can feel her trembling, but she doesn’t pull away. She doesn’t try to argue or fight me this time.

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