waist. It was grounding, and settled some of the rioting emotions inside me.
I reached up and framed his face gently with my hands, turning his head this way and that. I just had to see it, see his temple, the place where the gun had been. I pulled him down and kissed the red mark there, where the barrel had pressed, and then the bruise on his cheek, too.
“I’m fine,” he protested weakly. His hand flattened on my waist and then slid around to my back, pulling me closer.
“I know,” I said. “Just confirming.”
Tex slid his hand up the line of my spine before releasing me just long enough to shift his grip to the back of my neck. I sighed at the contact and tipped our foreheads together.
“I’d kiss you, but I bit my cheek when he pistol-whipped me.”
“Kiss me anyway.”
“No. That’s gross.”
“Shut up.” I kissed him softly. It wasn’t a deep, searching kiss—it was just his lips against mine, his mouth open just enough to fit my lower lip in between his, and I tasted a sharp edge of copper. I wrapped my arms around his waist and pressed my fingers into the hard muscle of his back.
He was okay.
We broke apart, barely, and with my eyes still closed, the words came out as easy and naturally as a breath. “I love you.”
Tex kissed me again sweetly, and squeezed the back of my neck so hard it sent a shudder down my spine. He didn’t say it back, but to my surprise, I wasn’t bothered by it. I’d had a lot of time to come to terms with the way I loved Tex. But I thought of what Logan said earlier on the back porch. Even if his brain couldn’t formulate the words yet, his touch on my neck, his lips on mine, made it clear what he felt in his heart.
Coop hauled Rebel onto the porch and toward the front door. Rebel was leaning heavily against him, like his legs couldn’t quite hold him up, but there was a dazed expression on his face, somehow halfway between a smile and a grimace. As they approached Blade and Logan, Logan reached out for his brother and squeezed his hand. “Luke.”
“Yeah,” Coop said, low and steady. “It’s over, Luke. Come on, let’s let the guys take care of this part.”
“Clean-up crew’s here,” Siren called as she came around from behind the house. “Jesus, Blade, really? You’re gonna have to pull that knife out yourself. Disgusting.”
“Oh, so I’m the clean-up crew?” Blade asked as he helped Logan to his feet, ready to follow Coop and Rebel inside.
“Well, yeah, since our favorite prospect’s in the hospital,” Siren said. She kicked at Crave’s body. “Good riddance, fuckhead.”
“Goddamned right,” Tex said as he slung his arm around my shoulder and tugged me close to his body. “Good fucking riddance.”
21
Tex/Jaz
Tex
I sprawled lazily in the clean sheets, stretching from my fingertips to my toes. I’d spent the day recovering from the morning’s ordeal with Crave, and I’d spent the afternoon in Jazz’s bed, alternating between napping and scrolling through my phone. I was still a little sore, and the bruise on my cheek was getting pretty gross, but I wasn’t any worse for the wear. It was dark now, and I was loose and lazy and comfortable in his bed.
Maybe it was a little bold for me to be waiting for Jazz like this, naked in his bed, but I didn’t think he’d mind a little boldness. I liked his bed more than mine, anyway. I liked being surrounded by all the details of his life: the clothes on the floor, the abandoned coffee cups, the riding boots tossed carelessly in the closet. His sheets were soft, and well-worn, and still held the warm scent of his body.
Jazz was still on enforcer duty, but he was due to return anytime now.
And he’d said he loved me.
I always knew he did—we were closer than family. Even if we didn’t say it, we didn’t need to.
But that declaration was different. I knew it wasn’t the same love I’d felt for him in the years I’d known him. And at the same time, I knew what I felt was transforming into the same thing.
The way he’d said it, it wasn’t like it was a revelation. It was like he was simply stating a fact. Sky is blue. Water is wet. I love you.