Another yawn. “Marines.”

Well, that was that. Drew’s brother, Ryan, was Air Force. It didn’t mean he didn’t have contact with Marines, but anyone he trusted enough to send after her would be someone he’d worked with—someone he trusted with his own life, let alone hers. Which obviously wasn’t Luke. Honestly, she couldn’t see this angry man and nice guy Ryan having a single conversation, let alone spending enough time together to create a friendship.

Thank God.

It truly was just a coincidence that he’d ended up here the same time she had. Alexis nodded to herself and turned into the parking lot of the lodge. Good. And if I’m going in for a penny, I might as well go in for a pound. She shut off the car and looked at him. “Don’t bother booking a room. You’ll be with me tonight.”

Chapter Nine

After that damning proclamation, Luke should have told her to go to hell. As much as he’d wanted to strip her down up on Pulpit Rock, now he was so tired, he’d be lucky if he didn’t pass out right here in the passenger seat of this tiny-ass car. But the lure of a bed and a hot shower got him moving when Alexis climbed out of the driver’s seat. “Sorry, princess, I’m not really in the mood anymore.”

“That’s cute, but I wasn’t talking about sex. I’m afraid if I leave you alone, you’re going to end up unconscious and suffering from that hypothermia you were so worried about.”

Right. She wasn’t concerned with getting him naked—she just wanted to make sure his weak ass didn’t hurt himself. “In the immortal words of Princess Alexis—I can take care of myself.”

She glanced over her shoulder long enough to glare at him. “Could you tone down on the caveman charm for a few minutes? You’re going to scare the villagers, and then we’ll be dealing with torches and pitchforks.”

Like they’d gone after Frankenstein. “You have no idea how accurate that description is.” Most days he felt like he’d been pieced together, his body no longer his own. There wasn’t a mad doctor waiting in the wings, laughing maniacally, though. It was just him, a prisoner crippled by his boatload of issues.

They walked through the lobby, and she led the way deeper into the lodge. “You’re right. Poor, scarred Luke. Nobody understands him.”

“Are you mocking me?” He’d spent weeks in a hospital being put back together, followed by months of physical therapy—not to mention the loss of his career, identity, and most of his friends. That wasn’t something to poke fun at. He was still trying to find his feet after everything he’d lost.

“Not what happened to you.” She stopped in front of a door and opened it, standing back to let him limp in. He had a second to thank God it was a single occupancy instead of the bunk setup, and then Alexis kept going, “But seriously, could you be any more tortured about it? I’ve seen men who lost all their limbs who still managed to have a better attitude than you do.”

“You don’t get it.” His entire identity had been tied up in the pararescuers. He was the man all the badasses in the armed forces called when they needed help. He saved lives and ran headlong into situations that would send most people fleeing scared, and he’d loved every second of it.

That was all beyond his reach now, gone in a split second.

“You’re right. I don’t. I’m sure there isn’t another person in this world who’s been hurt like you have.” She rolled her eyes. “Whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep at night, Luke. Every single person has lost something and some of us…” Her voice broke, surprising him so much that he dropped into the single chair. “Some of us have actually lost everything.”

What the hell was he supposed to say to that? That nothing in her perfect princess life could measure up to his crawling back from the brink of death? Saying as much suddenly felt on the far side of crass. There was something in her eyes, something that called to him on a foundational level. She looked like a woman who’d walked through hell and back, just the same as he had. What the hell happened to you, darlin’? “Alexis—”

“Forget it.” She headed for the door. “I’m going to go find the laundry room and see about some ice for your knee. Why don’t you lay your stuff out and give it a chance to dry?”

Before he could formulate a response, she was gone, shutting the door behind her. Luke closed his eyes and leaned back to smack his head on the wall a few times. It didn’t do anything for the toxic mix of lust and anger inside him. So he decided to do something useful and dry out his shit. The two pairs of jeans he had were filthy from all the goddamn walking, and his shirts weren’t in much better condition. Doing laundry had just become the number one priority.

Not wanting to waste this opportunity, he grabbed his satellite phone and dialed. As expected, Flannery picked up on the second ring. “Yeah?”

“I found her.”

A sigh of relief. “Thank God. Avery is losing her shit over this whole thing. Drew is convinced it’s going to mess with the baby, and no one can convince him otherwise.”

“Well, she didn’t fall to her death from a drop of two thousand feet, so that should reassure everyone.” He paused, making sure there was no sound of footsteps on the other side of the door. “She’s fine. A huge pain in my ass, but fine.”

“Good. You’ve got to keep up with her, man.”

“I’m trying. At some point, if I keep showing up where she is, she’s going to either call the cops or figure out something’s up.” And he didn’t relish the conversation either of those options would bring about.

“Convince her to bring you along. She can’t know that we didn’t trust her to do this alone.” Another sigh. “She needs this, Jacks.”

Even hearing his old PJ nickname wasn’t enough to distract him. She needed to have everyone at home so torn up and worried that her pregnant sister was possibly endangering her unborn kid? For the millionth time, he wondered what the hell she’d gone through to make everyone so willing to let her jaunt off to find herself. He could ask Flannery, and it was likely the man would even tell him, but Luke held off.

He wanted to hear it from her.

He cleared his throat. “If Avery’s so worried, why don’t I just pack her up and bring her home?”

“No. Stick with the plan.”

That’s what he thought his former squad mate would say. For the first time since he agreed to this insane mission, he was actually grateful. Getting Alexis to agree to his tagging along was going to be a chore, but part of him relished the challenge. She didn’t give an inch, and as frustrating as he found that sometimes, he actually admired that part of her. It made him want to know more, even though getting any closer to her was a goddamn mistake. “Roger that.”

“Thanks, man. I…know this can’t be easy on you.”

“I’m fine.” And he sure as hell didn’t need to be coddled. “I’ll keep you updated.” He hung up before Flannery could say anything else to insinuate that he wasn’t up to par. It wasn’t intentional, but that didn’t make it sting any less. The sad truth was that he wasn’t in fighting shape anymore. Nothing anyone did or said was going to change that.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway as he stuffed the phone back into his pack and dumped his dirty clothes onto the floor. She’d been right to figure out the laundry situation first. God alone knew where they were headed next. He didn’t relish the thought of walking around, smelling like several-day-old clothing.

Alexis opened the door and paused, her gaze going to the pile of clothes. “I found the laundry room.” She held up a plastic bucket. “And ice.”

He grabbed his last clean pair of boxer briefs and stripped down, ignoring Alexis’s shocked exhale. He might have no interest in jumping her bones right now—which was a dirty lie with her standing there, her wet dress clinging to her body until she somehow looked more sensual than if she were naked—but he was done hiding from her. If she turned away from his scars now, after what they’d done the other night, then she would only confirm everything he was so sure of when it came to her.