Oath Of Honor

Chapter Twenty

Evyn handed Wes the last slice of pizza. “You finish it.”

“I’m stuffed.” Wes sat on the bed with her back propped against the wall. Some of the shadows around her eyes had faded, but her cheeks were still hollow, and her fingers trembled slightly as she reached for a napkin.

“You need the carbs—eat.” She hated seeing Wes hurt. Wes didn’t complain—she wouldn’t, and her attempt to feign normalcy only made Evyn want to punch something. She had to do something, even something mindless, or she’d do something they’d both regret. She stacked the remains of their meal—crumpled paper napkins, a couple of paper plates, the pizza box. “I’ll take the empty box to the trash. The pizza was great, but I’d rather not smell the aftermath all night.”

The room was generous by motel standards—two slightly larger than single beds separated by a two-drawer nightstand with a peeling brown lacquer finish. A goosenecked reading light, dusty shade askew, sat on the water-stained top. The bathroom had been carved out of the closet area—a small toilet jammed in next to the sink, a two-and-a-half square foot shower stall, and a solitary overhead light. The closet held a few bent wire hangers and nothing else. Neither she nor Wes had taken anything from their go bags other than toiletries.

“Need a hand?” Wes asked.

“I got it,” Evyn said, not looking at Wes. She’d sat on the far end of the bed during their takeout dinner, a meal she’d shared a hundred times in a hundred nondescript rooms just like this one. She’d never been as grateful for the pizza box sitting open between them as she had been tonight, though—every time she looked at Wes and remembered the way she had looked slowly spinning deeper underwater, she wanted to touch her. Just to assure herself Wes was warm and safe.

She gathered the trash and stood. “Need anything?”

“Nope. I’m going to grab another shower.”

“Still cold?”

Wes grinned wryly. “I’m not really sure. Feels that way, but it might just be my imagination.”

Evyn checked the thermostat on the wall above the dresser, a vintage fifties maple affair with wooden knobs on the drawers and a rickety mirror. Seventy degrees. The room was toasty. Wes still wasn’t fully recovered. “Take your time—use all the hot water if you need to. I’m good.”

“Okay.” Wes rose, glanced at the door. A frisson of anxiety shot along her nerve endings. She’d never minded being alone, but she didn’t want Evyn to walk out that door. She’d paced the room during the ten minutes Evyn had been gone getting the pizza and hadn’t been able to relax until Evyn appeared again, a spark of triumph in her eyes as she’d held the pizza box aloft like a trophy. She’d looked vibrant and vital and sexy. Wes clamped down on the surge of heat that tingled down her thighs. “So I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

“Right.” Evyn reached behind her and fumbled for the doorknob, her gaze locked on Wes. “I’ll be here.”

Wes broke eye contact first and disappeared into the bathroom. A second later the water came on in the shower. Evyn imagined Wes sliding out of her clothes and stepping naked into the heat. She’d seen enough of Wes’s body through that thin, damp white towel back in the locker room to have a pretty good idea of exactly what Wes would look like naked. Ordinarily she didn’t have any problem populating her fantasies with women she knew, but she chased the enticing image of Wes’s body from her mind. She didn’t want to fantasize about her. What she wanted to do was kiss her. She almost had—would have, just then, if they’d been any closer. She had quite a lot of practice reading women’s eyes, and she’d read desire in Wes’s. All the same, she hadn’t had such a bad idea in longer than she could remember. Sleeping with Louise when she hadn’t been one hundred percent present didn’t hold a candle to the insanity of kissing Wes.

Wes had had a serious shock just a few hours ago—had almost drowned. She was vulnerable. Physically depleted. Battered and bruised. By her own admission, not really on top of her game. She didn’t need Evyn coming on to her—she needed a solid night’s sleep and probably a talk with someone about what had happened. Evyn wasn’t one of those agents who found psych support to be intrusive or threatening. Her older sister was a psychologist and one of the best listeners she’d ever met. She’d learned when she was struggling with the kinds of identity issues all adolescents face that talking with her sister helped. And when she’d told Chris she was a lesbian, her sister had been cool. Hell, she talked to Gary when things got really hairy—when the stress and the insane schedules and the lack of a personal life started to make her crazy. She wanted Wes to get any help she needed—and making a move on her did not qualify as helping.

Evyn pulled on Wes’s jacket, not so much because she wanted to keep dry in the still-falling snow but because she liked wearing it. An unusual intimacy for her—wearing someone else’s clothes. Silly, but no one needed to know. The jacket was a little big. Wes’s shoulders were a little wider, her arms a little longer, but she wasn’t so much bigger their bodies wouldn’t fit together seamlessly. Wes’s breasts were just the right size for their torsos to meld perfectly, Wes’s thighs just long and tight enough to wrap around hers with no space between them. The fist of want in her belly tightened, and she dashed outside, welcoming the blast of cold wind and icy snow. The storm had picked up. Two inches of wet powder covered the parking lot. No cars passed on the two-lane. The road remained unplowed.

After tossing the detritus into the open maw of the dented blue Dumpster tucked behind the end of the building, she ran back along the row of darkened rooms. She stamped her feet to clear the snow from her boots and jumped inside their room, shutting the cold night outside.

Wes stood in the middle of the room with a towel cinched above her breasts, leaving her upper chest, sculpted shoulders, and a lot of thigh exposed. A sliver of light slanted through the partially open bathroom door behind her, highlighting her strong curves and sinewy planes. The red-green glow of the motel sign flickered through the open slats on the blinds hanging on the single window beside the door, leaving Wes’s face mostly in shadow. Evyn flashed again on the picture of Wes wrapped around her, nothing between them. Her skin tingled and heat flooded her core.

“Better?” Evyn backpedaled until her ass hit the wall. She couldn’t read much in Wes’s face, but she bet hers was easy to decipher. She’d had more control when she was fifteen than she did now.

“Yes,” Wes said. “How is it outside?”

“Snowing pretty heavy.” Evyn couldn’t move. Couldn’t take her eyes from Wes’s face.

“Your hair is wet.” Wes took a step closer, ran her fingers through the hair at Evyn’s temples. “You should’ve put the hood up.”

Evyn laughed shakily and rubbed her hair with a hand. “I thought I could outrun the snowflakes.”

Wes laughed. “Why does that not surprise me? Do all federal agents think they’re capable of superhuman feats?”

“Only the ones who are, like me.” Evyn grinned, watching the smile reach Wes’s eyes. She loved making her smile. Still, she looked strained, as if she’d been pulling doubles for a week. “How are you really feeling?”

Wes shrugged. “Like I had a really long day. Nothing some sleep won’t cure. I’m not that out of practice working twenty-four on—I still cover the ER pretty regularly.”

“Yeah, but you aren’t usually physically accosted in the ER.”

“I wasn’t today either,” Wes said gently. “I took a header off the boat—none too proud of that actually. I should have ducked. I saw it coming.”

“For how long—a second?” Evyn shook her head. “You never had a chance.”

“And neither did you.” Wes brushed a loose curl away from the corner of Evyn’s mouth. “You must have hit the water pretty hard to bruise your face.”

“You hit a lot harder.” A pulse beat rapidly in Wes’s throat, matching the crazy rhythm of Evyn’s heart. Evyn started to sweat. Wes was inches away. She wanted to touch her. “You should get dressed before you get chilled again.”

“You should get undressed before you end up the same way.” Wes reached out and unzipped the windbreaker. “I left a little hot water. You need it?”

“I’m good,” Evyn said, never having made a less true statement in her life. She didn’t know what she was, but it wasn’t good. Turned on, desperate to ease the shadows Wes couldn’t quite hide, aching to hold her. “Wes, I—”

“I want to get one thing clear,” Wes said.

Evyn drew up short. Here it came. The no-fraternization-at-work speech. Her own rule, the one she should have been remembering, and the one she forgot every time Wes was within a mile of her. “You don’t need to say anything. I agree with you.”

Wes’s eyebrows shot up. The corner of her mouth lifted. “Do you? I didn’t realize you were psychic as well as superhuman.”

“Another big bad federal agent skill,” Evyn said as nonchalantly as she could manage. “Always a bad idea to complicate a working relationship. No need to go there.”

“You’re right, we do agree.” Wes’s tone was soft and serious, but her eyes were partly amused. “Although I was going to say that what happened out there this afternoon was an accident. No one could have predicted it. No matter who set up the exercise, no one was at fault for that cable snapping and me going overboard.”

A hot surge of embarrassment flooded Evyn’s belly. Hell, she couldn’t have been more wrong about what Wes had intended to say, and now she’d tipped her hand and probably made a fool of herself. “I won’t argue. Obviously I can’t win.”

“It’s not about winning.” Wes stroked the backs of her fingers over Evyn’s cheek, just beneath the bruise. “How about just believing it?”

Wes’s mouth was so close, all Evyn could do was watch her lips move and struggle to make sense of what she was saying. Her mind heard the words but her body translated them into something else. Want, desire, an unfamiliar need. “Wes. I’m a little off balance here.”

“I know.” Wes’s voice was barely above a whisper. “So am I.”

Evyn went completely still.

“You saved my life today and I’m grateful. I know you were doing your job, and I would’ve done the same.” Wes watched the muscles along Evyn’s jaw tighten. Evyn didn’t like being thanked for doing what came naturally—and for what she saw as her responsibility. Wes got that—she felt the same. But she was grateful—not for being saved from drowning, but for a warm sure hand in the cold dark night, anchoring her when she’d thought she might lose her way. For the silent assurance that she would conquer her demons and come out the other side of the tunnel whole. Evyn had faith in her—and had offered her a shoulder when she’d needed to lean without once making her feel weak. She was much more than grateful—she was soothed in a place she’d never known she was hurt. “And just so you know, this isn’t about that.”

“What?” Evyn’s eyes were huge blue lakes filled with questions.

Wes had only one answer. She leaned forward and kissed her.