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Before she knew it, she was in his arms, held tight against him. Burying her face in the soft cotton jersey of his shirt, Layla breathed him in—the warm, clean scent of virile male. Brian wasn’t a cologne kind of guy; just soap, antiperspirant, and natural pheromones, which did a number on her every time. Her reaction to him was instinctual and primal, as if she’d been hardwired to seek out this one man, the only one who made her feel as if she was right where she was supposed to be.
Layla dropped the towel in her hand. Her hands fisted at his waist, gripping both his shirt and belt loops. As always, she felt like she was hanging on to him with a death grip, trying to stave off the inevitable separation. Even when he’d been hers, she’d never really felt like she had all of him. His job owned him first and foremost, and eventually she’d realized that if she made him leave it behind, the loss would alter him in a fundamental way. She couldn’t ask that of him. He had to make that decision for himself.
And he had.
The job won.
Exhaling in a rush, she released him and stepped back. His arms fell away reluctantly, loosening the towel she’d secured around her torso with a tuck between her breasts. She barely caught it before it parted and fell. Brian sucked in a sharp breath and turned away, displaying a restraint she wouldn’t have expected from the Brian of old.
“You need to eat.” He dug into a large bag and pulled out a foam container. He peeked inside it, then grabbed a napkin and some plastic utensils.
Layla watched as he set a rudimentary place setting for her at a small round table by the window. The blackout drapes were drawn tightly together, shielding them from view of any passersby. She grabbed a fresh change of clothes and donned them in the steamy bathroom before sitting down to eat.
“What did you get?” she asked.
“Burger. Same as you.”
She chewed a fry thoughtfully, her gaze moving to the bed and the condom box.
“They were near the razors,” he muttered. “I didn’t go out of my way looking for them.”
Layla managed to repress the smile wanting to escape. His surly moods always brought her amusement. He was the type of guy for whom most everything just rolled off his back. The only thing capable of knocking him off his game was her. “God bless stores with convenient layouts.”
He growled and ripped off a bite from a burger that was easily twice the size of the one she had. Brian wasn’t a fan of breakfast, but he more than made up for it with the amount of food he ate the rest of the day.
“Aren’t you going to join me?” she asked sweetly.
His gaze narrowed suspiciously, but he snatched up his food and came over, pulling out the chair opposite her and sinking into it with movements that were inherently graceful. She’d always loved to watch him in motion, loved to watch the way his muscles bunched and lengthened with sleek fluidity.
“You look great, Bri.” Her voice was low and warm, prompting her to take a quick drink of her soda to cover the slip. Letting him know she still loved him would be a mistake. They had even less of a future now than they’d had before.
He stilled midchew. Swallowing, he said, “Thanks. So do you.”
She offered a shy smile and resumed eating.
“So . . .” he began. “What have you been doing the last few years? Have you been in Maryland the whole time?”
“Pretty much.”
“Do you like it?”
She shrugged. “It’s all right. Nothing like SoCal.”
“No,” he agreed. “Are you still studying interior design?”
She shook her head. She hesitated, then took a deep breath before elaborating. “Criminal justice.”
His brows rose and he studied her over the lip of his cup. She knew he was thinking of how big a change that was. He might even be wondering if it might tie into his and Jacob’s former plans to start their own private security firm. Their dream wasn’t one she had shared beyond her anticipation of having the guys home more often, but she’d grown to love it since joining WITSEC. In a way, it kept her connected to Brian and her brother.
“Are you happy, Layla?” he asked softly.
“I’m not unhappy.”
“Are you seeing anyone?”
Layla washed her food down with a leisurely draw on her straw. “Shouldn’t you have asked that before you bought the condoms?”
“Damn it.” Brian dropped his half-eaten burger onto his fries. “You’re not going to let it go, are you?”
“Sure. I’ll drop it.”
“Thank you.” He shoved three fries into a pile of ketchup, then pushed them into his mouth.
“But about the lube—” She blinked innocently when he erupted into coughing. “You gotta admit, that’s pretty personal. And ambitious. It’s one thing to rekindle a little fun in the sack, but anal sex, Bri? I’m sure you’ve known women who serve that on the main menu, but that’s a chef ’s table item for me.”
“Layla.” He pushed back and stood.
“You really should eat,” she admonished. “You’ve got to keep up your strength. We’re on the run after all, and you’ve got some serious mattress gymnastics planned.”
“Fuck it.”
>
“Yeah, I got that from the lube—”
“Shut up.” He walked to the bed, grabbed the box of condoms, and tossed them across the room into the trash can. Digging into the suitcase carrying the toiletries, he searched for the personal lubricant.
She watched him. She ate her burger and fries. And she got hotter by the minute. He was seething, so damn passionate in his aggravation and embarrassment. She’d rarely seen him like this out of bed.
“Where is it?” he barked.
“If I promise to be a good girl and stop picking at you, will you come back and eat?”
“Don’t patronize me!”
“I’m sorry.”
He held up a hand to ward off any further words.
“Really,” she pressed. “Can I help it if I want to see if I can still get under your skin?”
“As if you ever got out from under it.” He pointed an accusing finger at her. “Don’t look so damned shocked! I’m not the one who split us up.”
“Aren’t you?”
“No, damn it. I’m not. I was in it for the long haul.”
Layla shook her head, her own ire rising. “’Til death do us part doesn’t add up to much when you can be dead any minute.”
“Don’t.” He stalked closer, vibrating with all the emotions he was usually so adept at leashing. “It’s five years later, baby. I’m still breathing.”
“Only because we’re not together. If you haven’t noticed, men don’t live long around me.”
Brian stopped two steps away. “You can’t be serious.”
She shrugged and closed the lid of her box, her appetite gone. “Your food’s getting cold.”
“If you’re a death sentence, that meal on the table isn’t the last thing I want to eat.”
