“It’s the sacrifice I chose to keep the alarms operational.”
“Great.”
They ended up in the living room, candlelight dancing softly between them while rain battered the windows outside.
The power had been out for nearly an hour. The house had grown steadily warmer, their skin damp and sticky. Leland dug a small battery-powered fan out of a closet. It did little more than stir the same hot air in slow, useless circles, but they sat on opposite ends of the couch and angled toward it, anyway.
At some point, the distance disappeared. Julia wasn’t entirely sure when.
One minute, they were talking about practical things—how long outages usually lasted in Miami, whether the stove would work, or if they’d be stuck eating cold cereal for dinner. Then somehow, she was laughing at the absurd quantity of batteries Leland kept stockpiled in a kitchen drawer, an entire civilizational reserve of AAs and Ds, like a man methodically preparing for societal collapse.
“You mock me now,” he said. “But when civilization falls, and I’m the only man in Miami with functioning flashlights and a useless fan, don’t come begging.”
Julia laughed. It came out easier than it should have, considering their predicament. “You have an emergency bunker somewhere. Admit it.”
He shifted, folding his ankle over the opposite knee, and she made the mistake of glancing down. His hand dangled over his shin, relaxed, and she could see the corded muscles in his forearm, the ink dark against his tanned skin. She quickly looked away before her thoughts got her into trouble.
“I do not have a bunker,” he said.
“That hesitation says otherwise.”
“There was no hesitation.”
“You hesitated.”
A slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, a subtle hint of a smile that sent her heart racing. She averted her gaze, focusing on the whirring fan as the last echoes of her laughter faded.
“I haven’t heard that in a while.”
She looked back at him. His expression was softer, more open.
“Heard what?” Julia asked.
“Your laughter.”
Before she could respond, Leland brushed his thumb over her lower lip. The gesture was unexpectedly tender in a way that almost hurt.
Heat, which had nothing to do with the weather, coiled through her stomach instantly. She stopped breathing for a second.
His gaze dropped to her mouth before returning to her eyes.
The storm outside faded to background noise, the space between them suddenly too small and too charged. His hand slid along her jaw, fingers settling lightly at the nape of her neck. Giving her room to pull away, which affected her more than if he’d demanded anything.
“Leland,” she breathed.
His restraint looked dangerously thin now. “We shouldn’t,” he said, voice quiet. “I’m supposed to be protecting you.”
Her pulse quickened. “Is the system armed?”
“Of course.”
“Are you?”
His brow quirked. She rarely saw it, but she knew his 9mm was always close at hand.
“Then, I think I’m good.”
A muscle jumped in his jaw. His eyes dropped to her mouth and stayed there for one long second, and that was the tell.
