Lucky seems younger than the other two, closer to me in age than Dom and Beau, who I’d guess to be in their early thirties.
But despite the lightness in his demeanor, that teasing voice still has a bossiness to it I’m not sure I appreciate.
A muscle ticks in Dom’s jaw. “Goddamn it, Lucky. This won’t work. We all pull our weight, that’s the rule. She can’t even take care of herself.”
For the first time, I see discomfort in him. In another man, I’d call it panic.
Beau snorts. “’Course she can. She’ll do her part.”
The confident implication in his voice has my stomach flipping and dropping all at once. Are they arguing over whether to keep me?
One look at Beau’s expression tells me that my suspicions are correct. And Dom . . . well, it’s clear Dom doesn’t want me.
He couldn’t look more disgusted by me if he tried.
Not that it matters, I don’t want to go with them anyway. Of course I don’t. I really, truly don’t. This was a fluke. One slip in four years. I’ll just be more careful next time. I don’t need them at all. I don’t need anyone.
So why does it sting so much? a voice taunts, one I thought I’d banished years ago. The only woman within who knows how many miles and you’re still not good enough.
I cringe.
No. I need to leave. These men might not have thrown me on the ground and ravished me, but to have survived this long, they’re surely not so different from the men I’ve been running from. Right? None of them, not even jaunty-whistling Lucky, have spared more than a glance at the body pieces that splatter the clearing like a Jackson Pollock painting.
But . . .
Beau’s gentle touch as he tended my foot flashes into my mind. The way he cradled me against his chest as I cried.
My emotions are smattered and smeared, my thoughts a jumble.
“She’ll do her part,” Beau repeats.
“This isn’t necessary,” I interject, banishing my internal chaos and forcing librarian sternness into my tone. “I can take it from here. Truly.”
Can I, though? I’ve been running for so long, I don’t even know where I am anymore, let alone how to reach the nearest town to resupply. I keep my face composed, but the thought of starting again, by myself, from scratch, with nothing but the knife at my belt and the clothes on my back, is not a pleasant one.
Lucky seems to sense my doubt and moves closer, slinging an arm around my shoulders conspiratorially and ticking off his fingers one by one. “We have showers and spare beds. Proper cooking equipment. The place is completely hidden, very high-tech, so it’s secure against assho—” He coughs. “Uh, charm-challenged folks like your friends here. There’s also no chance of a drone spotting us, on the off chance one happens to pop up again. We have clothes, food. I could go on.”
He’s so close, and sizzling warm, and all firm and confusing, and even the thought of food is enough to make my whole body clench hungrily. I shrug him off, feeling overwhelmed. By him, by all of it.
As soon as I pull back, Lucky gives me an apologetic wince. “Sorry, sweetheart. Not pushing, I promise.” He hesitates, looking me over, then frowns. “I bet you haven’t eaten much, huh?”
He opens his pack, pulls out a wrapped cloth and hands it to me. After a moment of wavering, I peel back the corner of the fabric . . . to find a large chunk of hard cheese. Cheese! My mouth waters.
“It’s not much, but it should be edible. I made it. Kind of. The goat helped.” He gives me a nervous smile, but I’m still staring at the gorgeous hunk in my hands. Actual cheese. He must mistake my awe for hesitation because he adds, “I mean, I have jerky too, but . . . ”
We both avoid looking at the vile clearing.
Despite my resolve to walk away, it’s his kindness—as much as the cheese—that makes me pause.
“Thank you,” I murmur, my voice husky and thick. “This is wonderful.”
It would be more polite to wait until I was alone to eat, but my stomach has been gnawing on my nerves for days. I break off a piece and pop it in my mouth . . . and only just manage to muffle a soft groan of pleasure. Quickly, I devour two more pieces. It’s incredible. Almost orgasmic.
And the cheese, more than anything, makes me wonder what this home of theirs must be like. It takes resources to make cheese. Time. Security. Patience.
Forcing myself to pause, I give Lucky a small, grateful smile, and his face relaxes in relief.
“Come with us, sweetheart. We’ll keep you safe,” he says, so softly. “You won’t have to worry about this sort of thing”— his head tilts to indicate the corpses decorating the area—“ever again.”
It sounds like a promise.
Swallowing, I take a calming breath. How am I meant to keep my resolve while he’s looking at me like that? I can’t be considering this.
There’s always a catch.
I lift my chin and raise a cool eyebrow. “In exchange for . . . ?”
Lucky awards me a cheeky, dimpled grin. “The best orgasms of your life?”
My breath catches despite myself, and my skin tingles like he’s just kissed his way down my spine.
That smile is deadly.
I know I should stop staring at him, but I can’t seem to work up a suitable response.
Dom snorts, and his voice turns exasperated. “She can’t even do that, Beau. She’s intimidated by Lucky. How do you think she’d go with Jasper?” Beau grimaces, but Dom keeps going. “Jesus. Or Jaykob? There’s. No. Point.”
He looks down at me, and I finally manage to tear my eyes away from Lucky’s dimples.
“Can you hunt? Skin a deer? Can you fix the plumbing?” Dom asks. “Are you a scientist? A doctor? An engineer?”
I purse my lips. “I was a librarian. I have a masters in information science and librarianship.”
The tip of Lucky’s tongue wets his bottom lip. He bites down and lets out a pained groan.
“A librarian? You’re joking, right?” Something hotter, more intent, joins the twinkle in his eye. “That’s . . . Damn it, Dom. I want her. Gimme.”
Beau nods his agreement.
Dom swings his glare between them, then he fixes it on me, seeming to sense an opportunity. “And you, little librarian? You want to come with us?”
Do I? In the last hour, with these men, I’ve felt safer than I have for years. They killed people, yes, but they did so in my defense. If I’m honest, I’m far from feeling judgmental about that.
And a bed? How long has it been since I slept in a real bed?
“Is there hot water in the shower?” I ask hesitantly.
Lucky’s eyes dance at the measly joke, but Dom’s not letting up.
“If they both want you to come, then I won’t say no, but there are rules, Eden. Rules I don’t think you’ll be so quick to agree to.”
I give Dom a sharp look, unsure if I’m more unsettled by this idea of “rules” or that he actually caught my name earlier.
Beau shifts. “Is this really necessary?”
One of Dom’s midnight brows arches. “You going to keep your hands off her?”
My eyes widen. Beau’s Adam’s apple works as he swallows. He says nothing. When he looks at me, his gaze is considering. Wait. Hold on. He actually wants to . . .