Page 102 of When the Smoke Clears

“Fuck.” He drags a hand over his face, half groan, half laugh.

“Right. Okay. But this…” He taps my hip, possessive in a way that sends heat curling through me again. “This gets continued later.”

I push up on my elbows, smiling down at him. “Deal.”

I slip off the bed and pad toward the bathroom. Before I reach the doorway, his voice stops me.

“Oh, and baby,” he drawls, propped up on one elbow—hair mussed, eyes dark and lazy. “Don’t mention another man’s name in our bed again.”

His gaze drags over me, slow and deliberate. “Unless you’re hoping to be punished.”

A pulse of heat shoots through me, sharp and electric. My heart stutters, anticipation buzzing at the base of my spine.

Because the truth is, as I step into the bathroom with trembling fingers, I’m planning on doing exactly that.

Thirty minutes later, I can’t stop grinning across the table, my eyes fixed on the man in front of me while the neglected meatloaf cools on the plate below. Outside, the sun has dipped below the horizon, leaving a soft twilight in its wake.

Yet, there’s a warm glow that seems to dance through me, illuminating the moment with pure joy.

“This is so good,” Luke says, his words muffled by the mouthful of food.

He pauses to wipe a smudge of gravy from the corner of his mouth with the napkin before taking another bite.

I lean forward, resting my chin in my palm, fingers curled gently against my cheek. “I’m glad you like it.”

Luke ceases his chewing and sets his fork down on the edge of his plate, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that makes my heart skip a beat. “I like everything about you.”

Words I want to return get lodged in my throat.

Just then, the front door swings open with a sudden burst, and Gabe strides in with purpose, his brow furrowed and his eyes scanning the room.

“Hey, Gabe. Help yourself,” I say, watching as he eagerly serves himself a generous helping of food.

He settles into the chair to the right of Luke and digs in with gusto.

“So, what do you have for me?” he asks.

Luke pushes back his chair and walks over to the kitchen counter, where he picks up a sleek, black cell phone.

“I have this,” he says, holding it up. “I need you to hack into it and tell me what’s on it.”

“And what do we suspect is on it?” Gabe asks, pausing to swallow.

“Honestly, who knows? But maybe there’s something that will lead us to one of my dad’s contacts.”

“What contact?” I ask, frowning in confusion.

Luke hesitates, then explains, “I found a red stone in my dad’s office. It looked just like the one I found at the scene of your hit-and-run.”

His words send my heart into a frenzy, pounding like a drum in my chest.

“I don’t know,” he continues, “It might be nothing, but it got me thinking. Whoever is behind all this could have ties to my father.”

Gabe snatches the phone from the table, examining it closely as he turns it over in his hand, squinting at the screen before attempting to power it on.

“Yeah, I tried to turn it on,” Luke explains, shrugging with a hint of frustration. “It’s out of power. I don’t have a charger that’ll work with it. I figured you would.”

“Yeah, man, I’ve got everything I need to break into this phone,” Gabe assures. “It’s back at my place. Is there anything else that happened today?”