Chapter 27
Mariah woke to a light knock at the door, followed by the aromas of bacon, pancakes, eggs, and coffee.
Wait.
And coffee?
She went from REM sleep to bloodhound alert in a split second and sat bolt upright. The bedside clock read 7:00 a.m. On the laminate wood desk was an impressive spread of steaming breakfast dishes. A sheepish Vaughn was pulling metal lids off the plates. He had his slacks on but nothing else. The fashion choice worked for him.
"And a good morning to you." He surveyed her and licked his lips, reminding Mariah to pull the sheet up. "Not that I am complaining about the view one bit."
"Oh wow. I need..."
He picked up a mug full of mocha heaven. "This?"
"Gimme. Please."
"It will cost you a kiss."
"I'll pay. Anything."
He sat next to her and did some magic trick with his lips and mouth that set her synapses on fire faster than a double shot of espresso. "Yes, it is a good morning."
A few sips of bliss later, she leaned back on the pillows. "That's a lot of food."
With a shrug, he said, "Didn't know what kind of breakfast you liked, so I ordered one of everything on the room service menu." He closed one eye. "Minus the mimosas." He opened that eye, then cringed. "But I'll order some if you really want."
"No thanks." She clutched the mug to her sternum, prepared to die before letting go of the beverage. "This is perfect."
"Obviously. I'm kind of jealous of the mug."
"Give me another few sips and I will be able to respond."
His laugh filled the room as he hovered over the spread of food. "Do you mind if I dig in? I'm kind of hungry."
"Save me a few pancakes and eggs. Everything else is fair game. You earned it."
"From the fight or from last night?"
How many rounds did they go? She'd lost track after her fourth orgasm. Her cheeks warmed. "Both," she mumbled.
Swaggering like a fighter who won the championship belt, he piled a plate and sat in the office chair, facing her.
After a few minutes, she set the mug down. It was almost like letting a family member go.
"Want some food?" he asked before starting into his second plate.
"Sure."
He handed her the plate and fork and resettled in the chair. The dark ink shifted as he adjusted his position in the seat.
"What's that mean?" She pointed.
Setting the fork down, he glanced at his chest. "Which one?"
"All of it." At a flash of his pain, she blurted, "Unless you don't want to tell me, and that's okay."
"Um, no. It's not like anything on my body is a secret anymore."
Her heart skipped a beat.
Clearing his throat, he said, "What I meant was that people can see this any time I fight or train." A grin. Then he pointed. "Vincit qui se vincit. Means 'He conquers who conquers himself.'"
"Sounds deep. Wrestle with demons much?" She leaned against the headboard and took another sip of coffee.
"Probably, yes."
Sounded like he had even more history there.
"And on the back," he said. "per avesitatem redemptio. Um, 'through adversity, redemption.'"
"So that would be a definite yes on demons?"
"Yes." He rested his elbows on the arms of the chair and hung his head for a moment. "I don't talk about it much. And... I'm not ready to go into details right now."
The drowning weight of his words stopped her from asking anything more. "That's okay."
"Yeah?"
"It's your story to tell. Do so when you want to."
They ate in silence. Once they'd finished the meal, she sighed again and scooted down into the blankets while watching him.
He set down his plate. Opened his mouth and closed it. Twice. Tight lines bracketed his lips.
Uh oh. That look had bad news written all over it.
She needed another coffee before having the Post-Sex Relationship Talk, and by the deepening frown, the Talk was gearing up to be a doozy. True, she had questions about long-term plans, but for now, she wanted to bask in the glow of good lovin' and good breakfast a little longer.
"Shower?" she yelped.
He did an agonal breathing move with his mouth and finally said, "What? Uh, yeah, sure. In there."
That's not what she meant. Another wave of heat poured through her and she pressed her legs together. Her mouth watered, and not for breakfast.
Could she do it? Could she let a man know exactly what she wanted? And get it—that was the real question.
If not with Vaughn, then with whom?
No one else, dammit. The guy had ruined her for any other man. Maybe he didn't have forever stamped on his forehead, but she would make the best of the time they did have and be proud of going for what she wanted.
To meet that goal, she would have to walk in front of a sculpted MMA fighter, naked.
With a gulp, she slipped out from under the sheets. His eyes darkened as he watched her every move.
She stepped in front of him and stood between his legs. She laced her fingers together in front of her to fight the urge to cover herself.
"Wow." He traced her hips with his hands.
"So, um. Shower?"
"I can't believe you had to ask me twice. Christ, I'm a dumb fuck." He surged to his feet and shoved his pants off, his hard and ready erection making her belly clench in anticipation. He scooped her in his arms with a kiss that tasted like breakfast and Vaughn as he strode to the bathroom.
* * *
"So, would you be interested in seeing our ranch?" Vaughn asked, buttoning his shirt.
He didn't want this day to end, ever. He prayed that Mariah would feel the same.
And if his family didn't like him bringing a woman home for a visit, they could shove it.
All he wanted was more Mariah.
Question was: did she want more of him? Maybe he could figure out the answer to that question later today.
Like it mattered for a guy planning to blow out of town.
"Sure."
"What?"
"I'm game to check out the ranch, if it won't disrupt... anything you all have to do there." She pulled the wool coat around her and picked up her bag. "It would be good to run home and change first, though."
"Want me to follow you back to your house?"
"Sound like a plan." She didn't protest as he took her bag from her.
He opened the hotel room door and motioned for her to precede him. As they walked down the hall, he gritted his teeth and let his power flow out of him. A noise there, a flicker of light here, made him tense, sensing threats everywhere.
But not threats to Vaughn.
The power was searching for potential danger to Mariah. And the power was doing it in a hypersensitive manner. The blood drained from his head, turning sound hollow.
Not detecting danger to Vaughn. Not at all.
No way. Impossible.
As they got in separate cars, he clenched the wheel, his knuckles turning white. Shit. Too much distance between them. He'd be behind that ridiculous Mini all the way back to Copper River, a two-hour drive. He tried not to tailgate as he followed her vehicle's shallow tracks in the dusting of snow.
Thirty minutes into the drive on the empty highway, his power screamed and threw out a wave, reaching forward.
A mule deer bolted from the trees and ran in front of Mariah's car.
Before he could slam on his brakes, she had slammed hers, stopping just in time to avoid hitting the deer. He managed not to hit her car, and they carried on down the highway. No harm, no foul.
But that wasn't the point, as the pounding in his chest reminded him.
He had felt the danger to her before it had appeared. More to the point, his power had sensed it and tried to do something to protect her. What he'd felt last night when Linc attacked her, what he felt this morning... none of it was a fluke. In the most fundamental way, his power had changed how it functioned. Changed its purpose. Would the power continue to morph, and if so, into what?
Hell, Shelby had gone into a coma when her power shifted gears.
Maybe the effect on his mind would wear off if he spent time away from Mariah.
What a shitty existence that would be.
A flash of memory from this morning: Mariah against the tiles in the shower, water sluicing over her breasts as she bounced with the force of his thrusts. Their connection was so perfect, so right. He had to shift in the car seat to relieve pressure. What if he lost his mind but he still got to enjoy good mornings like that?
What a way to go.
When they reached her house, Vaughn stayed in the car while she ran in to change. He dialed home.
"Hello?" Shelby answered.
He groaned. His baby sister, with her radar to pick up emotion, was the last person he wanted to talk with. "You're home."
"I do live here, you know." All snark. Classic Shelby.
"Just figured you'd be at Eric's."
"We're both here. What's going on? Your text to Garrison said you stayed over at the casino. Everything okay?" She paused.
"Shit," he muttered.
"Ahh, got it," she chirped. "More than okay."
"Shut up, Shel. You're not supposed to use your ability."
"Don't hate on the psychic. You're an open book. Takes very little effort to read you." She chuckled. "You really like her, don't you?"
"Come on. That's not why I called."
"Isn't it? You might be older, but I have enough life experience to know when I'm being bullshitted. Try again. Is she right next to you?"
"No. In her house. I'm bringing her by the ranch."
"Awesome! I'll make sure we have lunch ready."
"That's also not why I called." He rubbed his face, like somehow he could scrape away the uncertainty. "My power's doing weird things around her."
"Weird, how?" The teasing tone disappeared.
"Like, changing. Not protecting me anymore. Protecting her."
He started to repeat himself when it took her too long to answer.
"What?" she whispered.
"The ability is shifting. I'm going nuts."
"Oh, wow. It's almost like you got a variation on my power to detect emotion. Now that Eric and I are... together, I'm more keyed in on him than I ever have been with anyone. So it could be the same with you and Mariah."
"What if I'm linked to her forever?"
"Is that a bad thing?"
"Damn it, I don't know." He rested a fist on the steering wheel. "What the hell do I do?"
"For starters, you be good to that woman. She's a nice person, and you will not pull a disappearing douchebag act on her." She cut through his spluttered protest. "Second, you have to tell her about your power. And about your past. All of it."
"I don't know if that's a good idea."
"Dude, are you naturally stupid, or did you audit extra classes to get that dumb? Take it from the human emotion detector: tell her the truth. Let her know what's going on with your power and what makes you tick. She needs to participate in decision-making."
"What, now you're Dr. Phil?"
"No, but Kerr likes the show. And since I'm laid up, I've been watching way more daytime TV. Kerr is right. That Phil guy is good."
"Okay. Crap, here she comes. I'll see you in a while."
"Tell the tru—"
He ended the call as Mariah scooted into the truck. She'd changed into hiking boots, jeans, sweatshirt, and a jacket suitable for the outdoors. Her hair stuck out from under a wool beanie.
Adorable and sexy.
She could wear sackcloth and roll in dirt and he'd think she was the most beautiful woman on Earth.
He was so screwed.
Like an invisible sigh of relief, his power settled down now that she sat in the truck next to him.
"All set?" he asked.
Because Vaughn wasn't certain that he was ready for what awaited them on the ranch.