Not that he seemed happy with that in the car.
Kas gave me a look.
It wasn’t sexual or demanding, but it still sent my pulse skipping and core clenching. He was so handsome, so rugged, and untamed. His long hair needed a brush, his beard needed a trim, and his body—even dressed in cheap Walmart clothes—still bristled with power that came from fighting the elements and existing with nothing and no one.
He awed me as well as aroused me.
“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice rich and deep in the night.
I swallowed hard, picturing my bedroom and the super king bed I’d never shared with anyone. I imagined my small but perfectly usable bathroom with Kas in it. His large frame in my shower. His naked body lathered in my elderberry and olive soap, his hands touching me as I grabbed hold of the taps for balance as he—
“Gem?” Kas came forward, his forehead furrowing. “What’s wrong?”
I shook my head, dispelling the fantasy.
It’d only been a few days since I’d slept with this man, but the way my body hummed for him proved it was already too long. I needed him. And soon.
“Nothing.” I beamed a smile and brushed past him. “I’m fine.”
His hand reached out and caressed my arm as I went past, sending shivers down my spine.
Aching for him, I inserted the key. The lock turned easily, and I sucked in a breath as Kas moved closer behind me.
I became hyperaware of him.
Too aware.
The boots I’d bought him from Walmart scuffed on my weed-covered stoop. His intense gaze swept over my jungle of a front garden. His lips twitched as I looked back over my shoulder, his eyes curious and shrewd in the night. “Your brother was right to mock your gardening skills on the video when you squabbled.”
I shrugged, trying to calm my jumpy heart rate. “I’ve never been one for plants.”
“Maybe that’s a way I can pay you back while I have no money.” His savage, scarred face lit up. “I’ll start another veggie patch. Get your garden producing as well as looking pretty.”
He looked positively relieved to have found an area of my life that he could contribute to. And who was I kidding? The thought of Kas shirtless and covered in mud while digging in my garden? Holy hell, the desire in my blood intensified.
He seemed oblivious as he drank in my messy section, and his hands balled as if he was about to start work immediately, even though it was almost one in the morning and we were both bedraggled from driving cross country.
His gaze caught mine again, and the eagerness there, instead of the usual wariness, made my heart thump, sending yet more tingles through my blood.
God, why did I feel so jumpy and high? My system acted as if I was about to scale a boulder that might make me fall and break something.
Well, this is kind of like that...
Having Kas in my space set me on edge and excited me at the same time. I wanted him to be happy here. I wanted him to feel welcome and free to go wherever he wanted. But I was also afraid he wouldn’t like it.
That he’d find my place small after the huge decadence of Fables.
I had money, but I was wise in my investments. I owned this small house outright and had another two rentals that returned good yields, but the rest of my savings were scattered in term deposits, growth funds with Wall Street, and a couple of start-up companies that I believed in.
I’d never been one for expensive cars or massive houses even though I could afford it.
The idea that Kas would find me lacking in some way? That he’d regret allowing me to drive him so far from his valley made me sick.
God, had he felt all these emotions when I’d trespassed?
Had he struggled with wanting me in his space versus not wanting me near the things he valued?
I’d entered his sanctuary. I’d infiltrated somewhere he felt safe.
I’d never stopped to see it from his point of view—to understand how soul-shattering it would’ve been to have someone unwelcome step inside without an invitation.
To have to share after a decade of being alone.
If he’d been this strung out, no wonder he’d had such an adverse reaction to me. It still didn’t excuse him strangling me or throwing me in the basement, but I could see how terrifying it would’ve been for him.
I’d signaled a change he hadn’t been ready for.
I’d brought forth a life he’d done his best to turn his back on.
And now?
He’s doing the same to me.
Just having him on my doorstep ensured this house would never feel the same again. I would never forget him prowling through my rooms, looking at my stuff, becoming part of my world. How could I ever forget him when the entire vibe of my home had changed just with him standing on the stoop?