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Alec threads his fingers through my hair, my sodden rat’s nest that I gave up trying to straighten. I feel my pulse in my lips, the tip of my chin, my fingertips—a gentle and consistent, rhythmic reminder that this is right and good.
And oh, how it’s good.
Pleasure in its every form cascades through me as his lips become hungrier. It’s the culmination of everything we’ve been through: urgent—painfully urgent and real. Our pasts compared to now are like a puff of a dandelion to a room full of sharply thorned, achingly beautiful roses.
I don’t feel cold anymore. I don’t feel anything except the rollercoasterly sensations, the lilts and twirls inside of me as he coaxes me with his hands and lips. I’m awash in him, in everything that he consists of: the blue of his eyes, the scar that I know gouges his knee, the broad planes of his back, his stubble claiming my skin.
Then, a slosh.
I’m aware of a disturbance in the water against my feet and ankles before I hear someone clearing his throat. It could only be Sebastian, as the throat clearing jars me from my reverie like a wolf’s low growl in the dead of night.
We pull apart.
I take in one sweeping look at Alec who’d, seconds before, irrevocably turned me upside down and inside out. And I’m not talking about the tumble into the water. He did this to me after we stood, and on a level that’s soul deep.
His hair is spiked and wet, blackened from our unexpected swim. His soaked, oatmeal-colored long underwear shirt is plastered to his hard chest. But he’s not wearing long johns for pajamas.
No. Alec is no Pa Ingalls, mind you. He’s wearing what may or may not be boxer briefs. A maroon color. Tight against his thighs.
I’d noticed his clothing before when I woke up to the light and commotion downstairs, but it didn’t occur to me until just now that he was in his…undies.
I shiver again, and swing my gaze to the Tate’s oldest brother, the father figure of the bunch.
He says nothing. There’s just a large, severe line of a brow punctuating his face.
Alec’s expression tells me he’s torn between the two of us, brotherly duty butting up against…whateverweare—whatever we have.
I take a sloshing step back and turn to face Sebastian. He’s stepped to the side to avoid the water rolling from the living room and out the door. “We called a restoration company,” I say, feeling the need to convey how very responsible we were being right before the kissing he was an unfortunate witness to.
I survey the wreckage before me, both brooms now askew in the water near us. “In the meantime, we thought we could sort of—” I make a sweeping motion with my arms, realizing too late that movement causes the oversized neck of my favorite t-shirt to slip off my shoulder. I clutch the neckline and fold my other hand across my belly.
Alec flashes a look of a thousand words in my direction before he wades towards his brother. “What do you think? Could it get any worse?” He opens his arms wide and gives a half laugh.
Sebastian’s one raised brow has settled into more of his signature scowl. Unfairly, it does nothing to affect his European model good looks. “I wouldn’t say that if I were you.” He reaches out with the toe of his brown work boot to kick the water, almost as if he were testing it. Like kicking the tires of a new car. “Did you turn off the water main?”
Alec ignores the fatherly tone. “Yes,” he answers simply, then shunts out a quick breath. “I’m not sure what else can be done until A-Plus Restoration comes.”
“It’s…ah…” Sebastian takes it all in, struggling to find the words.
Tell me about it, El Jefe of the Tate family. I don’t have the words, either. I just have flashes of memories tickling me, teasing me. How I laid on top of Alec for one brief moment. The way he felt in my arms, his broad, steel muscles. How he pulled me to standing, with the ease of Hercules. Then, the way his lips coaxed me along in the best kiss I’ve ever had.
“I brought a couple of big fans from the resort.” Sebastian sticks out a thumb in the direction of the front door and his truck visible behind him. “But we should get rid of more of the water before we plug them in. Wait. Should we turn the electricity off?” He raises his chin and narrows his eyes at both of us. “Come with me. There aren’t any available rooms right now, but you’ll stay in my suite for tonight.”
I take a step towards him and it’s clear in that moment how Sebastian has managed to create such a successful company. He says “jump” and we all, like robotic dogs, bark out a “how high?”
Except not Alec, apparently. “No. I can’t just leave.” He shakes his head and works his jaw, muttering something about his luck. “I need to be here for when they come.” He glances at me. “But Oakley will go with you.”
Oh, will I now?I join Alec near the door, the joints of my frozen toes cracking. “I’m not leaving, either, Alec.” I guess the eldest Tate brother’s magic hypnosis skills didn’t filter on down the line of brothers because I have no problem telling him no. “Besides, what about Jerry?”
“Jerry?” Sebastian asks.
“Our puppy! Well, we’re just fostering,” I add. “He’s an Airedale Terrier mix and he’s very charming.”
“Stella,” was all Alec had to say, a communicative look passing between them.
Sebastian’s mouth turns down in a frown. “Yeah, I can’t have a dog in the resort. Maybe you’ll have to tell Stella you’re unfostering him for a couple of days until this gets cleaned up.”
“Well, we could do that tomorrow.” I hope my voice is diplomatic. Responsible.
