But beneath Megs’ deadpan exterior, Ellie could see the deep affection she felt for every member of the Team and her pride in their abilities.
Fifteen minutes later, the pallets were piled high again, Jesse, Austin, and Eric wrapping them tightly with plastic wrap they took from a big dispenser on the wall.
From start to finish, it had taken less than an hour.
Ellie looked around the room. “I am so grateful for your help. Thank you all. Thanks, Megs.”
“Thank Jesse. He’s the one who sent up the flare.”
He stood near the door with Austin, Eric, and Creed, laughing about something.
“I will.” Oh, she most definitely would.
* * *
Jesse came home, hit the shower, then put a steak in the oven on broil. He nuked a potato to go with it, grabbed some leftover salad out of the fridge, and called it good. By the time he had cleaned up, it was just after eight. He turned on the news but was too restless for that. He popped in a climbing DVD, watched the Stone Monkeys fuck around on El Cap for a while, but even that couldn’t distract him.
He wanted to be with her.
The past two nights when he’d gone over, he’d waited until after nine to make sure the twins would be asleep. But what did it matter whether the kids were asleep? What was the worst thing two little kids could do? Cry? Throw up? Poop on him? Give him strep again? He could deal with that. And if they were going to crawl into bed with him and Ellie in the middle of the night anyway…
He sent her a quick text.
ON MY WAY.
He’d just started for the back door when she replied.
GIVE ME FIVE MINUTES.
Okay.
He gave her eight just to be sure, then followed the well-trodden path through the snow to her back door. The house looked dark, except for a faint light coming from the kitchen. He was about to knock when he noticed a note stuck to the door.
Use your key and come inside where it’s warm.
He unlocked the door, stepped into the kitchen, and took off his boots and parka. Ellie wasn’t there. She’d lit candles and set them on the table, their flickering light falling on a tumbler of scotch, which sat on a second note.
I’m waiting for you.
His heart gave a knock, blood rushing to his groin.
Holy fuck.
He took a sip of the scotch—damned good stuff—then walked back to her bedroom, anticipation putting his senses on high alert.
She lay on the bed in a black lace bra and tiny panties that revealed more than they concealed, her skin gleaming in the candlelight.
“Jesus.” Some primitive part of him wanted to fall on his knees to worship her—erotic dream-come-true, angel, goddess.
She sat up, got gracefully to her feet and walked toward him, her breasts swelling above the bra, her nipples just visible. “You’ve been a very good boy.”
He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out.
She undressed him, his erect cock springing free, doing the talking for him.
She stroked the length of him, then pointed to the bed. “Lie down.”
He obeyed, part of him rendered stupid by lust, the rest of him curious to see what she planned to do.