Kade curse and start again.
And then, when she thought that neither she nor her ears could take any more, it ended. The man on the floor gave one last, desperate heave, then went still as stone and faded away. He left no trace. He left no clothes. He simply drifted apart like so much smoke blown by a breeze.
Melanie blinked a few times at the place where he'd been, then gathered the shreds of her sanity and climbed to her feet. "I think," she told Kade's shoulders and the top of his head, "that I'd like to go home now. It's been...an interesting night."
"It's been a mess," he countered, unfolding as he stood as well. He shoved a hand through his hair, mussing its already-careless style. "Home sounds like a good plan. Let's go."
Another portion of her peace of mind shattered, not unlike the gunman. She closed her eyes briefly, determined to stop that comparison before it went too far. Her eyebrows lifted as she looked at Kade again. "Let's? Let us? As in we?"
Kade summoned something closer to a smirk than a smile. "Yeah," he said, reaching for her elbow. "Us as in we."
Melanie backed just out of reach. "I don't recall inviting you." The seduction she’d been planning suddenly seemed like the worst idea she’d had in a decade. At least.
"I didn't ask." He stepped forward, taking up the space she'd retreated. When he reached again, there was no avoiding him.
But caught didn't mean complacent. She tugged against his grip. "I'm more than capable of getting home on my own. I'll call a cab if that will make you let go of me."
"Room for two in a cab."
She'd hardly noticed that he had her moving, but now the cool air sweeping through the pub door that listed on its hinges grazed her cheek. It distracted her with the promise of freedom. Outside, in the middle of the milling crowd, maybe she could shake him off, lose him between bodies.
She might as well have announced her plans out loud. As they crossed the threshold, Kade slid closer, his arm banded around her yet again. He tucked her against his side in a way that made it clear there'd be no shaking him off as he steered her down the street toward home. He murmured apologies as he shouldered past bystanders. They shifted out of his way without complaint.
"My friend," Melanie tried. "I met somebody here."
"You can call her in the morning." He kept her moving as if she stood on a conveyor belt. She felt like she could dig her heels in, leave gouges in the concrete, and she'd still end up where he wanted her to go.
And a small, traitorous part of her thrilled at the notion. That bit didn't want to leave his side. He'd protected her. He'd fought off whoever — whatever — those men were. She'd be a fool to send him away. Didn't she feel better now that they were leaving?
She frowned at herself, forced to admit she did. The aches that had plagued her had faded almost to nothing. She prodded at her abdomen discreetly, seeking out the places that had doubled her with pain. No sore spots, no tenderness. How could that be?
"You have a couch?"
The question jarred her out of her inspection. When she looked up again, her apartment building was clearly in view. How fast were they walking? How long had she been staring at her navel? She glanced over her shoulder and saw no hint of the crowd they'd left behind. "What? Yes, of course I do." She stumbled on the next step. He kept her upright, bearing up her weight. They kept moving forward. "Why?"
"So I have somewhere to sleep that isn't the floor."
" What? Wait." This time when she put her foot down, he let her jerk them to a halt. She slipped away from the curve of his arm and felt like she could breathe for the first time in hours. She leveled a finger at him when he moved toward her again. "You are not moving in with me. You're not even staying the night."
He stepped forward again and she backed away, teetering on the edge of the cur b. He shoved his hands into his pockets and watched her, but he stayed where he'd stopped
And then, when she thought that neither she nor her ears could take any more, it ended. The man on the floor gave one last, desperate heave, then went still as stone and faded away. He left no trace. He left no clothes. He simply drifted apart like so much smoke blown by a breeze.
Melanie blinked a few times at the place where he'd been, then gathered the shreds of her sanity and climbed to her feet. "I think," she told Kade's shoulders and the top of his head, "that I'd like to go home now. It's been...an interesting night."
"It's been a mess," he countered, unfolding as he stood as well. He shoved a hand through his hair, mussing its already-careless style. "Home sounds like a good plan. Let's go."
Another portion of her peace of mind shattered, not unlike the gunman. She closed her eyes briefly, determined to stop that comparison before it went too far. Her eyebrows lifted as she looked at Kade again. "Let's? Let us? As in we?"
Kade summoned something closer to a smirk than a smile. "Yeah," he said, reaching for her elbow. "Us as in we."
Melanie backed just out of reach. "I don't recall inviting you." The seduction she’d been planning suddenly seemed like the worst idea she’d had in a decade. At least.
"I didn't ask." He stepped forward, taking up the space she'd retreated. When he reached again, there was no avoiding him.
But caught didn't mean complacent. She tugged against his grip. "I'm more than capable of getting home on my own. I'll call a cab if that will make you let go of me."
"Room for two in a cab."
She'd hardly noticed that he had her moving, but now the cool air sweeping through the pub door that listed on its hinges grazed her cheek. It distracted her with the promise of freedom. Outside, in the middle of the milling crowd, maybe she could shake him off, lose him between bodies.
She might as well have announced her plans out loud. As they crossed the threshold, Kade slid closer, his arm banded around her yet again. He tucked her against his side in a way that made it clear there'd be no shaking him off as he steered her down the street toward home. He murmured apologies as he shouldered past bystanders. They shifted out of his way without complaint.
"My friend," Melanie tried. "I met somebody here."
"You can call her in the morning." He kept her moving as if she stood on a conveyor belt. She felt like she could dig her heels in, leave gouges in the concrete, and she'd still end up where he wanted her to go.
And a small, traitorous part of her thrilled at the notion. That bit didn't want to leave his side. He'd protected her. He'd fought off whoever — whatever — those men were. She'd be a fool to send him away. Didn't she feel better now that they were leaving?
She frowned at herself, forced to admit she did. The aches that had plagued her had faded almost to nothing. She prodded at her abdomen discreetly, seeking out the places that had doubled her with pain. No sore spots, no tenderness. How could that be?
"You have a couch?"
The question jarred her out of her inspection. When she looked up again, her apartment building was clearly in view. How fast were they walking? How long had she been staring at her navel? She glanced over her shoulder and saw no hint of the crowd they'd left behind. "What? Yes, of course I do." She stumbled on the next step. He kept her upright, bearing up her weight. They kept moving forward. "Why?"
"So I have somewhere to sleep that isn't the floor."
" What? Wait." This time when she put her foot down, he let her jerk them to a halt. She slipped away from the curve of his arm and felt like she could breathe for the first time in hours. She leveled a finger at him when he moved toward her again. "You are not moving in with me. You're not even staying the night."
He stepped forward again and she backed away, teetering on the edge of the cur b. He shoved his hands into his pockets and watched her, but he stayed where he'd stopped
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