64
HARPER
Luke's bathroom is ridiculous.
I mean, Blackthorn Ranch isn't exactly a modest spread, but this bathroom is something else entirely. Heated floors, a rainfall shower that could fit four people, double vanity with marble countertops, and a soaking tub that looks like it belongs in a luxury spa.
And here I am, sitting on the counter in one of Luke's T-shirts and nothing else, watching him shave.
The mirror is fogged at the edges from the shower we took twenty minutes ago. Luke stands in front of the sink wearing only a towel slung low on his hips, his hair still damp, a straight razor in his hand.
I should probably be thinking about Mandy and Turner and my dad—not to mention that Hendricks is arriving later today to figure out what to do about Mandy and how we’re moving forward.
Instead, I'm staring at my man, enthralled by the precise movement of the blade against his skin and the absolute focus in his eyes.
It's intimate in a way I wasn't prepared for. Domestic. Real.
Realhot.
"You're staring," he says without looking at me.
"I know." I’m probably drooling too.
His mouth curves slightly. "Like what you see, sunshine?"
"Stop," I say halfheartedly. I swing my legs, my bare heels tapping against the cabinet. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
"Do you trust Mandy?"
Luke pauses mid-stroke, the razor hovering near his jaw. He meets my eyes in the mirror. "Honestly?" He rinses the blade under the tap. "I'm not sure."
I appreciate that he doesn't lie to me. "What's your gut say?"
"My gut says she has a hidden agenda. Something beyond Turner." He continues shaving, the blade moving with surgical precision. "I can read it in her eyes—she's hunting something bigger than just revenge."
"Like what?"
"Don't know yet." He tilts his head the other direction, exposing the line of his throat. "But she's not telling us everything. That makes her a variable we can't fully control."
I watch him work—the steady hand, the focused intensity, the way he's completely present. I wonder what it’d feel like to have him use that blade to shave my legs. I shiver.
"Hendricks will help figure it out. Regardless, we need to move on Turner.” He rinses the razor again, then sets it down and reaches for a towel, wiping the remaining shaving cream from his face. He turns to face me fully, his hands bracing on either side of my thighs. "You scared?"
I nod. "Terrified.”
His eyes search mine. "You don't have to go in with us. You could stay here with Emma and Lily?—"
"No." I hold a hand out, shaking my head. "I'm going. We're a team, Luke."
His smile grows slowly, sweetly, different than his usual devil-may-care grin. "Okay," he says simply, touching my face.
"Okay?"
"Okay." He leans in and kisses me, and it’s just as sweet as his smile. When he pulls back, his thumb brushes my jaw. "But you follow my lead in there. No heroics. No cop instincts overriding tactical sense."
I sit up straight. "I can handle myself."