Page 113 of Entangled

Lucky chokes, and Beau pats his back as he stops beside him. Adrenaline and relief flood my body, and I hungrily take in every feature. They look good. Clean. There’s healthy color in their cheeks and nothing obviously, critically wrong.

“Lucky, cool it. You gotta ask first,” Beau says, all exasperation. His eyes lift, then run over me, so thoroughly I feel it everywhere.

We stare at one another for a long moment, his gaze pulling me in like a lasso.

“Hey there, darlin’.” His voice is a soft, low croon. “You up for a cuddle?”

That voice from him is like someone bringing a glass of hot, steaming water to the nape of my neck, and then pouring it down my spine.

He takes in my reaction, and a slow, warm smile works its way over his face.

“No!” Lucky coughs, then glares indignantly as he points at Beau. “You are not playing that card. Injured beats Southern.”

Injured. I scan Lucky again, worry nipping at me. He shouldn’t have run over here if he’s hurt.

He sags against Beau, pressing a hand to his chest. “Can you check my stitches, doc?” He groans pitifully. “I think you tore them open.”

Beau shoves Lucky off him. “You don’t have any stitches, you filthy liar; don’t you even try it. Don’t listen to him, Eden.”

Lucky flips him off, a grin breaking through his pouty expression, and relief crowds me again. The two of them are gorgeous in the sunshine, teasing and relaxed and that absurd song is playing for the fifth time, and my throat starts to feel thick and hot again.

We’ve come out a little battered, but they’re really okay.

Lucky must see something of what I’m feeling, because his face softens, and he reaches out for me—then hesitates just before contact. My heart squeezes at the consideration, knowing he’s worried, that both of them are, about what happened to me.

“I’m sorry. I am, I just—” The smile I work up feels agonized, my eyes tortured as I drink them in, and Lucky’s hand drops. “I’m so glad you’re okay. So, so glad.”

Relief avalanches over his face, his eyes lightening to the crisp blue of ice-tipped skies. He cares for me, I know he does, but even that care hurts to see. It’s always been Jasper for him. It always will be, no matter our new, sweet closeness.

Beau’s shoulders come down slowly with his long exhale.

“I’ll take that cuddle now, if it’s still on offer?” I whisper tremulously, suddenly needing it, craving their arms around me more than anything.

Beau beats Lucky to it by a half second, bending down and wrapping his arms around my waist until he’s lifting me in a gentle, enveloping hug. He only has me to himself for a moment before Lucky throws his arms around both of us at a terribly awkward angle.

Beau catches on quickly, turning and lowering me with the practice of someone who has done more than a little sharing so that Lucky can hug me from behind.

Lucky presses his face into my neck, and I realize he’s shaking. “I was so scared,” he whispers into my skin. “I’ve never been so scared. I’m so glad you’re safe.”

I’m enclosed in them, and it’s like being infused with warmth. It sinks into my skin and deep into my core, and I could be buried in them happily. Their familiar sounds and delicious smells and easy kindness.

“Ah, you’ve found one another,” Jasper murmurs behind us, barely audible above the blasting music.

Abruptly, reality comes crashing in. He’ll be wanting Lucky now. He might as well rip him from my arms.

Resentment takes a solid swipe at my joy, and jealous hurt returns to nibble at the rest of it. Stiffening, I pull back, and they let me go reluctantly. I lift my glasses to swipe at my tears, only to have a square of silken cloth pressed into my palm.

I glance up, and Jasper meets my eyes. His face is a careful mask, but his eyes are tentative on mine. Flushing and confused, I look away and use the cloth to dab at my eyes.

Am I jealous that he will take Lucky?

Or that Lucky will have Jasper?

Jaykob strides from the other side of the tree line. I reach out my hand as he nears us, missing him already, though it’s only been a few hours.

“Oh, hey, Jayk. Was Henrietta okay?” Lucky grins. “And thanks for bringing?—”

He shoves past us without stopping, ignoring my outstretched hand.

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