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He just wanted coffee.
With a silent promise to get some at their first stop, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He wished he were into video games or something, because the hours in the vehicles were getting on his nerves. If he had a tablet, he could at least try to get interested in a game. He could have brought a book, but he hadn’t been thinking straight in their race to prepare for this trip. He’d been too focused on practicing his powers.
He opened his eyes and glanced over to find Baer’s eyes closed, his mouth hanging partially open. He didn’t seem concerned about the storms at all, but Hale was. Grey had said there’d been no mention of storms on the news, so he couldn’t help but worry because any anomaly on this trip could mean something bad.
So, with nothing to do but worry, Hale forced himself to try and relax and his mind inevitably went to Harrison. He not only wanted to get naked with the man, he just plain liked him. Liked everything about him from his fancy clothes to his thick, dark hair that was never out of place. He liked his personality and his fierce dedication even though he knew he could very well die in this like his father had.
Well, there was a worse thought than never getting to date Harrison.
The Keeper of the Heart of the Earth dying in Sedona.
Nope, that wasn’t going to happen. There was no way in fucking hell Hale was going to let Harrison die in this battle. He was keeping that man safe even if it meant destroying every pestilent he saw.
Chapter
Seventeen
The steady beat of the windshield wipers swishing back and forth lulled Harrison’s brain into relaxing and letting down carefully constructed barriers. His thoughts ambled into dark corners where they shouldn’t have been and before he could stop it, he was watching a vibrant replay of last night’s surprising hand job.
Even now, hours later, he could still taste Hale’s skin on his tongue, hear the broken whimper of need lifting from Hale’s throat. Oh God, and the feel of Hale’s hard, silken cock in the palm of his hand as he stroked the man. His skin had been so hot, it was as if he’d been scorched by the sun. And then the sticky splash of cum.
But none of it compared to the expression of open need and trust in Hale’s stark blue eyes as they met Harrison’s.
That…that…had been pent-up frustration and a need for release. Yet when Hale looked at him like that, it tore him completely apart. Every instinct demanded he pull Hale close and protect him from all threats.
Nonsense. Hale was the powerful Weaver. He was the one with all the magical powers. The man would never need Harrison’s protection. At least not for much longer. He was already showing great progress in his handling of his powers, and he was sparring more with the other Weavers. He was going to be ready for Sedona.
So why the hell did he feel so useless?
He was the Keeper of the Heart. He was a fucking Guardian. He wasn’t useless. He protected the Heart and was prepared to give his life to protect the Weavers, but even as the thought crossed his mind, there was an answering plea from his own heart. It was only interested in protecting one Weaver in particular.
Hale. Hale. Hale.
He could hear in the beat of his heart, in the steady thump of the windshield wipers as they pushed back the rain. His entire world was becoming the strange man with the intoxicating grin.
“Goddamn! Why won’t this rain let up? I feel like it’s been following us all day,” Clay cursed from where he sat behind the wheel.
Harrison looked up to find that the dark gray sky blended with the pooling water on the ground so that he could barely tell where the two met on the horizon. The rain had started within minutes of him climbing into the SUV that held Clay, Dane, and Wiley. He’d made the excuse that he needed to work with Wiley on the final spell, but the cold, betrayed glare Hale had shot in his direction made it clear that he wasn’t buying a word of it. He knew the truth—Harrison was running from last night.
He didn’t know what to do with all the feelings. They didn’t make sense. He wasn’t gay. Or at least, he’d been sure of that little fact until he met Hale. But now whenever he looked at the man—no, whenever he simply thought of him, all these protective, possessive, needy emotions came bubbling out and he didn’t know how to process them.
Sadly, he’d been so fucking preoccupied with his personal crisis that he hadn’t taken a moment to even talk to Wiley about the final spell or what he thought of it. Harrison had glanced at it, but he’d not studied it or the other journals to the same extent that Wiley had.
