Page 97 of Wild Embers
Santiago examines the wall for another moment before looking back at me, and his expression changes.
“When’s the last time you slept or ate?” He studies me attentively.
My brows push together. “I don’t know.”
Santiago’s expression softens as he takes a step closer. “Blake.”
My hands shoot up defensively, warding him off. “I’m fine.”
He disregards my silent request and doesn’t stop until his arms are wrapped around my waist. The heat from his body pours into mine, sending ripples of anticipation through my veins.
Santiago traces a single finger under my right eye. “These dark circles beg to differ.”
My mouth pinches as I reply flatly. “You know just what to say to make me swoon.”
“You’re no help to anyone like this.” Santiago sweeps my hair over my shoulder.
“It’s not like Walk would actually let me help anyway,” I grumble.
“Walk knows you’re going to do what you want to do, but if he saw you like this,” Santiago gestures to the whole room, “he’d flip his shit. And who knows what Levi would do.”
“I can’t just ignore it,” I whisper into his shirt. “This is the whole reason I came back.”
“What I’m hearing is that you’re here for me.”
My stomach drops, and Santiago’s grin widens.
I rear my head back and widen my eyes. “That’s not exact?—”
Santiago interrupts me with a swift, hard kiss, backing me against the door. “You’re here for me.”
He swipes his tongue into my mouth, forcing a moan from my throat.
“And Levi.”
His hands grip my ass as he kisses me again. My knee slides up, my leg hooking around his hip.
“And Walker.”
Pulling back, I narrow my eyes at him.
“You can’t deny it,” he disputes as he suppresses a smile. “How did you get the case files anyway?”
“You’re not so old that you don’t know what a copy machine is, right?” I tease.
“Brat,” he teases back. “Does Walk know you copied the files?”
Did I tell him? No.
Is it possible that Jolene did after she let me use the copier? Yes.
Santiago shakes his head. “Come on. We’re going out.” His hand reaches for the doorknob.
My fingers wrap around his wrist, stopping him. “Where to?”
“Timberline.”
My brows shoot up. “Right now?”
