Page 10 of Protected By the SEAL
This is what the guys meant. This thing between us that’s way past friendship. The way she turns to me first. The way I can’t imagine my life without her. The way holding her feels like home.
She fits against me like she was made to be here. Her breath evens out, warm against my chest. I press a kiss to the top of her head, allowing myself this one small thing.
She sighs in her sleep, burrowing closer. And I lie there wide awake.
The Ghost Security group text buzzes again on the nightstand. I ignore it.
Right now, all I want is to hold her.
CHAPTER 4
MORGANA
My eyes flutter open. Golden morning light streams through the windows, painting everything in soft focus. I’m in Kane’s room. In Kane’s bed. Wrapped around Kane like he’s actually my boyfriend.
Oh God.
I should move, but I don’t. My body feels too content, too right. We didn’t have sex, but the feeling of him pressing against my ribs is new and terrifyingly bright.
Kane’s breathing shifts, the rhythm changing as he wakes. His arm tightens around me reflexively before his whole body goes still. He’s awake. We’re both awake. And neither of us is moving.
“Morgana,” he says, voice rough with sleep.
“Yeah?” I whisper back.
“We should probably get up.”
Neither of us moves. I tilt my head back to look at him, finding his eyes already on me. They’re dark, intense, searching myface for something. The morning light catches the gold flecks in them, and I forget how to breathe.
There’s a sharp knock at the door, and I freeze.
“Shit,” Kane mutters. “That’ll be breakfast.”
The spell breaks. We separate reluctantly, and I feel the loss of his warmth like a physical ache. He climbs out of bed to answer the door, and I try not to stare at the way his sweatpants hang low on his hips, the way his back muscles flex as he moves.
“I should go get ready,” I say, standing unsteadily.
Kane says my name, but I’m already heading for the door, suddenly desperate for space to think. To process. To figure out what the hell is happening between us.
“See you in an hour?” I ask, hand on the doorknob.
An hour later,Kane knocks on my door. He’s in slacks and a dress shirt that clings to his chest, looking unfairly good.
“Ready for whatever fresh hell your family has planned?” he asks.
I laugh despite myself. “God, no. I honestly blocked it out.”
“What do you need?”
The question is so Kane. He’s always been straight to the point, focused on looking out for me. I look at the wedding itinerary in my hand, then at the window with its postcard-pretty view of the hills, then back at him.
“I can’t,” I hear myself say. “I can’t do another group activity where they pick me apart. I need anything but that.”
He doesn’t hesitate. “Let’s get out of here then.”
“Kane, we can’t just leave like that.”
“Why not? It’s not the actual wedding. No one will miss us for a few hours.”
