18
Some words are as powerful as a punch to the gut.
Barely thirty minutes had passed since their safe landing back on the mainland, and Nick already missed the island. After spending a full week in blissful peace, the worry almost immediately crept into his body with each minute of the drive back to Ian’s house.
Here, he was a trapped animal, waiting to become the hunter’s prey. And he wasn’t a fan of sitting idly by, waiting for his number to be called. He took a deep breath and looked out the passenger side window into the dark night. His mind ran a marathon with different scenarios of how Petrov’s men would find him and what they would do to him.
And to Ian.
He closed his eyes, swallowing heavily. The thought of something happening to Ian was too much to bear. And while Ian’s job came with its own set of risks, Nick certainly didn’t need to compound that with his own drama.
And yet, he didn’t have the strength to leave Ian's side. He was powerless against the tether between them. Any doubts of that had faded in the sun while on the island. Something deep bound them together, something far more powerful than their individual strengths. Something greater than he could fathom and more potent than his fear of Petrov.
That bond, that connection, had been there all along, like a secret buried deep in the mind that slowly awakens with tiny triggers. Life had etched that fact in stone more than two decades ago when their paths had first crossed. Nick didn’t question they were destined to be together. And that conviction overpowered the worry that trickled into his thoughts.
Nick took a deep breath. There was no way anyone, including Petrov, was going to stand in their way.
“Stop overthinking. We’ll figure it out.”
He turned toward Ian, feeling the flutter in his stomach as he always did with Ian’s unwavering confidence and strength. “How do you know?”
Ian reached out and clasped Nick’s hand, bringing their joined hands up to his lips, and placing a kiss against his knuckles. “Because I won’t accept any other solution.”
Neither will I.
They rode in silence until Ian turned into the driveway and pulled into the garage. He switched off the engine, neither one making a move to leave the safety of the car.
“Tomorrow, I’ll ask around to find out if there’s anything new. Dex will be here later in the week to check for updates with his contacts.”
Nick absently nodded, wanting this nightmare to end.
“C’mon,” Ian said, patting his knee. “We’re moving your stuff into my bedroom, soaking in the tub for a while, and then I’m making you dinner.”
They stepped out of the car, grabbed their bags, and made their way into the house.
“Can we hang out on the couch and watch a movie or something afterwards?” Nick asked, turning to face him.
A hint of a smile curled the corner of Ian’s mouth. “Anything you want.”
“I want you.”
Ian leaned in for a slow, tender kiss. “You already have me.”
Nick wrapped his arms around Ian’s neck, burying his face in the crook of Ian’s neck. But for how long?
He screwed his eyes shut and slid his hand up the nape of Ian’s neck, cupping his head and holding him close, begging to extend the steady peace he only felt in this man’s arms.
═ ☼ ═
Killian sighed. He was alive. That was a given by the rise and fall of his chest, the air pushing through his lungs, and the blood rushing through his veins, heating his skin and spiking his pulse.
But this…this is what heaven must feel like.
He stretched out on the couch, absently keeping his eyes on the television screen playing some movie. He had lost track of the storyline and didn’t give a shit at this point. All that mattered was the man leaning into him, resting his head on his shoulder, letting out the occasional chuckle at the antics of the characters on the screen.
He brushed his nose against Nick’s hair and closed his eyes, breathing him in. Nick’s hair smelled sweet, like berries. Odd considering it was the same shampoo he used, but it definitely didn’t smell that way on him.
He scowled when Nick sat up, adding far too many inches of unwelcomed space between them. Killian slung his arm across the back of the couch and let his fingers fall on Nick’s shoulder, stroking the material of Nick’s T-shirt, where a fresh bruise bloomed on the skin beneath his touch. Mine.
“You’re really quiet tonight,” Nick said.
“I’m not a chatty type of guy.”
Nick chuckled. “Funny. I hadn’t noticed that.”
Killian scoffed at Nick’s raised eyebrow and smirk. “I’m thinking.”
“About what?”
He sighed. He hadn’t wished for many things in life, figuring he hadn’t earned a right to ask a higher power to grant him anything. And if some genie had popped up out of nowhere, he probably would have shot the bastard out of instinct. But sometimes, he listened to that little whisper of a voice, prompting him to step out of his comfort zone and ask for something. He had respected his father’s strength and resilience. But his father had been a brute with a rough touch and a steel heart who had been limited in both words and affection.
Guess more than one Marks’s legacy has been handed down.
In the back of his mind, he craved the gift of words and the ability to describe what he felt. A powerful gift his mother had in abundance and had wielded on him as a boy. A power he hadn’t recognized until its absence grew into a void in his soul. A power he now wished he possessed in that moment to say how he felt.
“You’re a million miles away,” Nick said, pulling him from his thoughts.
He looked into those pale green eyes, begging for the right words to leave his lips.
Nick reached out and traced Killian’s tense jaw with his fingertip. “What are you thinking about?”
“You.” He sucked at flowery declarations, but he could dish out a truth when needed. He just hadn’t mastered how to soften the blow when a truth possessed too much sting. “I liked our time at the sanctuary.”
He shifted his position when Nick turned his body toward him. They mirrored the other's pose, both resting an elbow against the back of the couch, each with his head in his hand, staring at one another.
“Sorry.” Killian had been a different person while on the island. He had felt different, as if the huge weight in his chest had briefly lifted, giving him a chance to breathe, to expand his mind into happier thoughts. To live. But now, that weight was back again. And with it came a different way of thinking, as if part of his mind had shut down and reorganized everything in his brain again to reset his priorities. It wasn’t a good idea to mention the one place where they’d had some semblance of peace, allowing it to serve as a reminder of what they now lacked. No sense pouring salt in a wound.
“Why are you sorry?” Nick asked. His eyes were bright and filled with mirth, a playful quirk teasing his lips.
Killian faced forward again and clasped his hands between his legs. His brows knit together as he frowned, struggling to string together the right set of words.
“Just say what’s on your mind.”
He scrubbed his hand against his closely cropped hair. “I don’t know how to describe what I feel.”
“Try.”
“Colors,” he blurted out, plucking the first thought racing through his mind. If he thought too hard or too long trying to formulate the right words, he’d never open his mouth.
“What about colors?”
“Black and white. They’ve always worked for me.” He shrugged, rubbing his rough hands together. “But you make me want to try that burgundy shirt Dex gave me years ago.”
Nick chuckled. “Are you daring enough to try a pattern?”
He glanced over his shoulder at Nick. “Let’s not go crazy,” he deadpanned.
A huge smile spread across Nick’s face. “So I make you feel like trying something new?”
Killian shrugged again, feeling the heat of a massive spotlight burning into his face. “Something like that.” He rubbed his palms against his sleep pants. “It’s as if…” He blew out a harsh breath, losing his train of thought. He hadn’t really lost it. He’d sort of detached the damn hitch, worried it was the wrong thing to say and would lead him off a cliff to crash and burn.
I suck at this shit.
He closed his eyes, channeling the chaos in his mind. “It’s as if there were only two options. Black and white. Right and wrong. Good and bad. Happy and angry. Now I realize there’s a shit-ton in between. Like my house here and the one on the island. This one here, it’s dark and quiet. But on the island, it’s bright and loud. And I think that’s why I stayed away so much.”
Deep down—deep, deep down—Killian suspected this epiphany had always been at the edge of his mind, waiting to blindside him if he remained on the island long enough. Could this be the reason he had avoided staying there for more than a single night at a time? He shook his head. It wasn’t the island. He had bought it ages ago and had had numerous visits over time. It was his visit with Nick. Their time together there. All those special moments between them, smiling, laughing, and exploring each other. He finally had someone in his life, someone he wanted to share in what the island offered.
And he wanted more of it. All of it.
He quieted. This wasn’t coming out the way he had planned. None of this was. He rubbed the back of his neck and blew out a frustrated breath. “When I was there with you, it was different. I heard the water, the birds, everyone laughing. It’s as if you flipped a switch and turned the lights on so I could see every detail around me in a different way.” He tightened his lips into a frown. “I don’t know how else to explain it,” he mumbled.
“I think you did a mighty fine job of explaining things.”
He glanced up, finally making eye contact with the green eyes that always spiked his pulse. He wanted to say those three little words most people said during moments like this. He’d heard them whispered between couples and in enough movies to know their impact.
But the words wouldn’t come.
Killian didn’t believe in saying something for the sake of saying it or saying something without the firm conviction of a person with complete confidence. He didn’t have a point of reference to know with absolute certainty that what he felt translated into that feeling. He looked away, angry at himself for being set in his ways and stuck in this odd mind space. He hated his hardness, his blunt nature, and the brute force of his actions.
Actions are important. Words are irrelevant.
His father had drilled it into his mind and he had seen the proof firsthand when people made empty promises, bartering for their lives during those last moments, willing to say anything and everything for a second chance.
“I love you.”
Killian’s gaze boomeranged back to Nick when those words hit his ears. He forgot how to breathe, think, and blink. But his hearing worked perfectly fine. And he wanted to hear those words again.
And again.
“I love you,” Nick repeated, reaching out, and tracing a fingertip along Killian’s jawline and down his neck. “I’ve been wanting to say that for a while, but I was worried I’d scare you off. I had to be sure you wouldn’t run when I finally said it.”
Why would I run? The question was on the tip of Killian’s tongue, but he was still too shocked to speak, replaying those three words in his head.
“I’ve left you speechless.”
Every thought vanished from Killian’s mind as those three small words recycled, over and over, in his mind. I love you.
He finally resumed something close to regular breathing when Nick flattened his palm on Killian’s chest, above the talisman pressing against his heart. “I don’t expect you to say it. I’m not sure you ever would.” He leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to Killian’s cheek. “But I see it in everything you do. The way you look at me. The way you hesitate to touch me when you think I’m sleeping.”
Killian startled. “You aren’t sleeping those times?” He looked away, breaking the trance that had locked their eyes together, fighting the sudden heat on his face.
“Have I made the strong and scary Killian Marks blush?”
He hid his face in his hands, feeling a surge of fire rise up his neck and burn his cheeks. Why couldn’t he stop his body from reacting like this? He swallowed heavily when Nick’s breath skated across his ear.
“Don’t hide. It’s real. And I like knowing I do that to you.”
Killian let his hands drop along with his guard, feeling far more vulnerable than he could ever recall.
“I know the way you feel about me. I can see it.” Nick reached for Killian’s hands, guiding them to hold his face. “I wanted you to know I feel the same way.”
A mountain-size boulder lodged itself in Killian’s throat.
Nick smiled wistfully as he spoke. “I love your honesty, your fierceness, your confidence. I love the way you always speak your mind. I love the way you look at me as if nothing and no one exists in the world but me.” Nick leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you. Just as you are and everything about you.”
Killian couldn’t move. He stared into those pale green eyes, shining with emotion. The heat of Nick’s cheeks warmed his palms, but he couldn’t will his body to do anything other than stare into those jade pools.
“But…I’m…” He gulped down the rest of the words. He was many creative things that came to mind and wasn’t sure which word captured it best.
“My guardian angel.”
Killian finally exhaled, willing the tempest of emotions waging war in his body to settle. Nick knew his secrets, his darkness, and his nature. And yet, he had said those words to him. I love you. The words hadn’t slipped from Nick’s lips in error. And just in case that thought had tried to take root in Killian’s mind, Nick squashed it in an instant. Nick wanted him, not in spite of his nature but because of it.
Just as you are and everything about you.
His heart pounded wildly in his chest, thumping strong and fierce, as if a part of his heart that had been missing until now, was fully beating for the first time in his life. He brushed the pad of his thumb against Nick’s cheek, enjoying the slight scrape of the light stubble against his skin.
“Say it again,” Killian whispered, staring at Nick’s full lips as they moved to repeat those three words no other man had ever said to him.
He pulled Nick close, capturing his lips and sealing those words between them.