“Lasagna or soup?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Not really hungry.”
His brows pulled together. That quiet worry again. The kind that weighed heavier than words.
She sighed and gave him a tired smile. “You pick. Your choice. Since you’re eating with me.”
That seemed to settle something in him. He nodded once and put the lasagna into themicrowave. The quiet hum filled the room.
He turned back to her then. The light from the microwave screen played across his face, highlighting the tension there. He didn’t say anything at first. Just stared at her like he needed to memorize every detail.
Then, on a quiet groan, he stepped forward and gently wrapped his arms around her.
Delaney didn’t resist.
Her face pressed against his shoulder, the steady beat of his heart grounding her. His hand cradled the back of her head, fingers threading into her hair. She let herself melt into the warmth of him, into the safety of that hold. The fear, the adrenaline, the pain—all of it slid into the background for a moment.
Neither of them spoke. They didn’t have to.
Delaney tilted her head, her cheek brushing the soft cotton of his t-shirt. She could feel the strength in him, the steadiness she leaned on more than she should.
When she looked up, her eyes met his, and everything else fell away.
She rose slightly onto her toes and kissed him.
It was instinct, impulse, emotion. The rush of everything they had just survived crashing through her. As soon as her lips touched his, she knew it was a mistake.
She tried to pull back, but Eli kept his arms around her. Not gripping, not trapping. Just holding.
Their gazes locked.
And just like that, the heat flared again.
Delaney didn’t think. She kissed him a second time. Slower. Deeper. Her fingers slid up his chest, curling into the fabric at his shoulders.
Eli responded with a low, almost broken sound, and he angled his head, careful, always careful, not to jostle her injured arm. His hand cradled her waist, then her back, drawing her closer.
Their bodies pressed together, the warmth of him seeping through her skin, through every guarded piece of her. His lips moved against hers with maddening patience, gentle at first, like he was memorizing the shape of her mouth, the way she tasted.
But the kiss deepened. Her pulse kicked, her breath caught, and still she didn’t stop. Didn’t want to.
The kiss raged on, slow and consuming, and Delaney found herself holding on tighter. Eli’s hand slid up her back, his touch grounding and electric all at once.
Then the microwave beeped.
The sharp sound jolted them. They eased apart, breathless, gazes still locked.
“I’m not sorry that happened,” he said, his voice low and still filled with massive amounts of heat.
Delaney’s heart was still pounding. “Neither am I,” she admitted. “But I want to be. We’repartners,” she added, trying to find the steady ground again.
“Only for this assignment,” he said. “Teams are formed based on the mission.”
She smiled despite herself. “Then for this mission, we’re partners.”
Before he could respond, his phone buzzed.
Eli pulled it out, saw the screen, and muttered, “It’s Noah.” He answered and put it on speaker.
