Jill Shalvis: Storm Watch

“Married with kids?” he asked.

“No.”

He smiled. “Not feeling that big three-oh breathing down your neck?”

“No.” For most of the time they’d ever spent together, she’d either wanted to kill him or have his babies. Apparently that was still the case. God, she’d been so young, and very naive, and she hated that reminder. If he’d so much as quirked a smile in her direction, she’d have done anything he wanted. Luckily, he’d never known the power he’d held, and she was no longer that girl. Nope, she was a twenty-nine-year-old woman, who absolutely did not want to think about his smile, and the way it still activated all her good parts.

It’d taken a long time, but painful experience by painful experience, she’d toughened up, learned to speak up for what she wanted. Mostly, she’d also learned that things worked out much better when both parties were enamored.

Not that that had happened in a while. After a series of missteps in the man department, mostly due to her own inability to fully connect to someone because when she was so busy with Cece, she’d decided to try something new and had gone off men altogether. Cristina had joined her for a while, but then she’d done the unthinkable and fallen in love with Dustin.

Leaving Lizzy alone on her penis embargo.

Well, not completely alone. Her sister had far more reasons than anyone to give up on men, as she’d just about tried the entire male species, at least all the wild ones anyway. She looked at Jason. “Definitely not feeling the big three-oh breathing down my neck.” Her life was just beginning, actually. “Do you know where Dustin is?”

“I don’t.” He stepped toward her, the light from the lamp bathing him in a soft glow that only emphasized the gorgeousness up close and personal. She tried not to stare at him and failed.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

The closer he got, the harder it was for her to breathe, so no. No, she wasn’t okay.

Not by a long shot.

Her legs had turned to overcooked noodles at first sight of him and, despite her resolve, her brain had gone to mush. She could tell herself she’d gotten over him a damn long time ago, but the truth was, if he so much as crooked his pinkie finger in her direction, she was going to regress to that pathetic teenager she’d once been, and melt in a little puddle of longing at his feet.

Lord, this would be so much easier if he’d put some clothes on-

The wind cracked, and with it came an ear splitting thunk that shook the house and removed her from her lustful reverie, causing her to jump nearly right out of her skin.

“Just the trees along the side of the house,” he murmured, turning his head to look out the window. “Which should have been trimmed.” He turned on another light, and…and her brain stuttered to a halt as her eyes ate him up. It was like an opened bag of chips, she couldn’t stop herself.

“It’s getting bad out there,” he said, shifting back to her, his gaze searching her face. “Are you okay?” he repeated.

Oh, man. Man, oh, man. He’d changed, too. He was far quieter, far more intense.

And the most devastating- kind. When had that happened?

She came up to his shoulder. Which meant that her face was right at pec level, and now there was so much light… Don’t look, she ordered herself. Don’t-

She looked. And when her gaze dropped, so did her IQ. She couldn’t help it, he was just so perfectly made.

He put a finger under her chin and lifted it up. Right. He’d asked her a question. Was she okay? A question that brought her firmly back to the present. And the present was looking tricky. No Dustin meant no SUV, and no SUV meant she’d have to go it alone, and that wasn’t going to be easy. “I’m fine. I’m just worried about Cece. It’s probably nothing but I just want to go check on her.”

“Cece,” he said. “Your sister? Troublemaker Cece?”

He remembered. Damn. He was hot and sharp, which just didn’t seem like a fair distribution of gifts. “She called me last night at work. She said she was fine, no contractions or anything, but now I can’t get a hold of her, and-”

His eyes widened. “She’s pregnant?”

“Yes. And her cell phone is off. I’m thinking she evacuated, that it’s okay, I just need to get a damn life,” she said with a self-conscious laugh. “She’s growing up and moving on, and I need to do the same, but I just can’t go to higher ground and relax until I’m sure.” Because a very small part of her couldn’t trust her sister to do it, even though she should be able to.

It was asinine. “I can’t get to Eastside in my car. I was hoping to borrow Dustin’s SUV.”

“Okay.” Jason shoved his fingers through his hair and let out a breath, the movement of his arms stretching and flexing all sorts of muscles that pretty much made her mouth dry up. “Where’s her husband?”

“There is no husband. The father of her baby ran so fast her head is still spinning. I’d really hoped to find Dustin here.”

“I’ll have to do.”

In truth, he looked a lot like his much kinder, gentler brother. He had dark hair, cut military short. Like Dustin, he had light gray steely eyes that she knew could be warm and playful, or cut like steel.

But unlike Dustin, Jason had an edge, which had only sharpened over time, from his intense gaze to his physique, honed by the military.

“I have a Jeep,” he said. “I’ll take you to her.”

“You?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

He considered her a moment, bemused as he ran a hand down his stubbled jaw. “Because you need a ride?” At her obvious surprise he shook his head. “Jesus, was I that big of an ass?”

She didn’t want to go there. No way. “All I need is to borrow your Jeep.”

“Ah. So you don’t need me. Duly noted. But the Jeep and I are a package deal. Take it or leave it.” His smile was tight, and went tighter when her cell phone rang and she pounced on it rather than respond to him.

“Hey,” Cristina said. “How goes it?”

“I’m going to go check on Cece.”

“Not in this. We were all called in on emergency shifts it’s so bad out there.”

“I just want to make sure she got out.”

“Not by yourself.”

“Not exactly.” Lizzy glanced at Jason, who was standing where she’d left him, still gloriously half-naked, watching her. “I’ve got Jason.”

He smiled grimly, and nodded his approval of her choice.

“Dustin’s Jason?” Cristina asked, letting out a low whistle. “Nice. The guy’s a virtual search and rescue team all on his own. But…”

“But what?”

“He’s…had a rough few months.”

“He looks okay.”

He arched a brow in her direction.

More than okay…

“Honey, he looks hot,” Cristina corrected with characteristic bluntness and a laugh.

Feeling her face heat, Lizzy turned away from Jason’s probing eyes. “I don’t see how that’s pertinent.”

“Then you must have failed Chem 101. It’s too bad you have that whole penis embargo going. You going to be able to resist?”

Lizzy risked a look over her shoulder. Jason had leaned back against the wall, arms crossed. Calm and steady.

Look at him, so absolutely at ease in his own skin. She grounded her back teeth together. “Not a problem.”

Cristina laughed softly. “Yeah, good luck with that. Call me.”

“I will.” She slipped her phone into her pocket.

Jason remained silent, his feelings carefully shielded. She had no doubt that he’d be an incredible asset to her out there in the storm, but unfortunately, he was far too dangerous to her mental health. “I want to thank you for offering to help. I appreciate it, but I can do this alone.”