A vision of chocolate morsels going everywhere has me diving to catch it, which I do, but not before smashing my hand on the edge of the counter in the process.
“Shit!” I toss the chocolate on the counter and clutch my throbbing hand. I’m not usually one to curse, but crap. Thathurt.
With a narrowed glare at the offending chocolate, I decide against the brownies. After all, I have enough food to feed Indyandhis friends for weeks.
Just as I’m about to inspect my hand, my phone chimes again.
Then it rings.
“I’m coming,” I tell it sternly. “Just give me a second.”
“Bea?What’s going on in there?” Indy’s worried voice comes through the door. “Bea?” he repeats, more loudly this time. “Are you okay?”
My heart leaps.
Indy!
All thoughts of brownies and sore hands disappear as I hurry to the front door. “I’m coming,” I call out. “One second.”
“Are you okay?” he calls back. “I heard you—shit. Are you hurt? Did something happen?”
“I’m fine,” I reply. “I’m just… these locks…”
“I’m coming in,” he announces. Tension strains his voice. “I have the code.”
“No, I’ve got”—I get the final lock unbolted and yank open the door—“this.”
The moment I see Indy, my gaze devours him.
I knew he was okay. He told me when he called. Tyler and Ace reassured me of it. So did Rafe and Eden, when we got backto HQ last night. Still, there was a niggling splinter of worry I couldn’t get out.
But he looks okay. Unharmed. Safe.
Without warning, tears spring to my eyes. “You’re here.”
“Bea.” He looks me up and down, his attention lingering on my face. His brow pinches with worry. “What happened?”
“Nothing.” I wrap my arms around him and hug him hard. “Nothing happened.”
“Bea.” His voice gentles, but it’s still tense with concern. He hugs me back, then releases me slightly so he can look at my face. “You cursed. And you’recrying.”
“I’m fine,” I insist. “I’m just happy to see you.”
Indy brushes his thumb across my cheek. He frowns. “It doesn’tlooklike you’re happy.”
“No, I am. Really.” I stretch up on my toes and press my mouth to his. “I’m just so glad you’re okay.”
“Ah, Bea.” Indy picks me up, kicks the door shut, and carries me over to the couch. Then he sits down and settles me onto his lap. “Were you that worried? I thought you were okay.”
“Just a little worried,” I lie.
Guilt shadows his gaze. “Shit. I knew I should have stayed with you. I’m really sorry, Bea.”
“It’s fine. You needed to go. I’m okay?—”
“Bea!” He spots the reddening mark on the back of my hand. As he inspects my skin with the intensity of a plastic surgeon, he asks, “Whathappened?”
“It’s nothing. I just bumped my hand on the counter while I was trying to catch the chocolate. I didn’t want a chocolate morsel disaster, so I lunged?—”
