Page 48 of Being Bold
Turning away, he wished for some space. His cabin had never felt too small before, but now the walls seemed to be closing in. They had to move this op to a bigger base. Soon.
Romeo appeared at his shoulder with a whine. “You don’t have a dishwasher.”
“Nope.” Bo grunted and set his empty plate in the sink. “And you just volunteered to be dish bitch.”
Instead of protesting, he lowered his voice. “Hey, you don’t have anything to worry about with me. I’ll leave her alone.” Romeo started running water in the sink. “We cool?” he asked.
Bo stared while the liquid started to climb up the sides of the stainless-steel tub. Why did it feel like he was drowning? Pulling air in through a constricted throat, he managed, “Yeah. We’re cool.”
He stepped away from the counter, eyes bouncing around everyone in his space. Suddenly hit with sensory overload, he had a desperate need to get the hell out of the cabin. “I’ve got to . . .” He made it to the living room on shaky legs. “Outside,” he grunted to no one in particular.
None of them said anything as the door shut behind him. When the cold air hit his face, he breathed in deeply. Half stumbling down the steps, he made it to the woodpile before hehit his knees. His stomach roiled, threatening to bring up the breakfast he’d choked down. With a hard swallow, he shoved his hands into the icy snow, letting the cold center him because, fuck, he needed some grounding.
Closing his eyes, he tilted his face toward the early morning sunshine and focused on everything he could hear. The whistling call of a chickadee as it flew into the woods on his right. The slow drip of ice melting under the sun’s rays from the logs not far from his head. The crunch of snow under a set of boots as someone approached from the cabin.
With a sigh, Bo opened his eyes, pulling his numb hands from the snow as he shifted onto his heels. At least his stomach had settled down, and he didn’t feel like the walls were closing in anymore. Turning his head, he waited to see who’d come after him.
Selene.The fact that it was her made him feel both better and worse. There were so many things he’d like to say to her . . . todowith her, but he couldn’t. This was an op, and if he wanted to do it well, he had to stay focused on the mission—protecting her.
She stopped a yard away. Her voice sounded unsure as she asked, “Are you okay?”
Her caring enough to inquire twisted his insides. He’d fucked up with her already. If she had feelings . . . that would be bad, right? Did he have feelings for her? Is that why he’d gone batshit over the idea of her with Romeo? Because he was jealous?
“I’m . . .”—a fucking shitshow—“good,” he managed while his thoughts were in an uproar.
“What are you doing?”
He still hadn’t stood up. She crouched in front of him, worry pinching her features.
He shrugged. “Just needed some air.”
A soft smile flitted across her lips. “It’s freezing out here.”
She’d bundled up from head to toe, and he had on only his jeans and a flannel. It was pretty damn cold, especially as he felt the snow starting to melt and wet through the denim covering his knees and shins.
He stood up, brushing off the material, trying to avoid her gaze. If he kept looking into her eyes, he was liable to do something stupid like kiss her again. “Yeah. Why don’t you head in? I’ll be there in a minute.”
Or ten.Or however the fuck long it took for him to get his head on straight.
She’d gotten to her feet, but her boots didn’t start their retreat. While he watched the ground, they came closer. “Can I stay with you?”
Don’t look at her. Don’t look at her. Don’t look—her palm landed on his arm. He lifted his head and met those gray-green whirlpools. Sadness, hope, attraction. It all swirled in her eyes, making him dizzy.
“Can I kiss you?” Fuck, did he just say that aloud? When she was this close, it was harder to hold everything inside. Things he couldn’t contain anymore sloshed around in his head like a ship in a storm, spilling over the deck.
“Yes,” she answered with zero hesitation, stepping into his space and gripping his other forearm.
He never should’ve opened his mouth. If she knew half the things he wanted from her, she’d probably run screaming. He told himself to step back, but his legs wouldn’t move. He’d frozen to the spot. All he could do was stare.
Her eyes questioned him before she leaned closer. Then, she tilted her face up and murmured, “Kiss me, Bo.”
Aw, fuck.
The way she looked at him made his blood heat until he no longer felt the cold. There was zero chance he’d deny her. Notthat he wanted to. No, he wanted to strip her of her coat, use it as a blanket, and get to work melting the snow underneath it.
As if he needed more encouragement, she hooked her arms around his neck and rocked her hips in a way that had his cock standing at attention. His breath shuddered out as he bent his head and placed his lips on hers.
So soft, and that sound she made in the back of her throat? So fucking sweet. He licked along the seam of her lips, and she opened that tempting mouth. Cupping her head in his palm, he pulled her closer, wanting to feel her curves, only to grunt in disappointment at the bulkiness of her coat. It hid too much. Still, he had her lips.
