He knew this was the moment he had irrevocably given his to her and prayed she kept it safe.

Soon, when their lives had settled and they'd had enough time to adjust to what was happening between them, he would make sure she knew it too.

Chapter Fourteen.

Ellie hummed as she flipped an omelet in the skillet she'd unearthed from Lucas's cabinet. She hoped he liked ham, cheese and mushrooms with his eggs. As she cooked, she reflected on the past half of a week. How could it only be Thursday?

This was her fourth morning at Casa Lucas. In some ways, it seemed like she'd just arrived, and in others she felt like she'd been here forever. In no way did she feel like she wanted to leave anytime soon, though.

She smiled to herself, wondering if shacking up with him was a possibility. As long as her brother didn't find out about it, anyway. Ryan might object, though maybe not if he saw how happy being here made her.

Ellie danced around the kitchen island to pop some bread in the toaster. It would go along with the glass of orange juice and the folded paper napkin with her ridiculous good-morning doodle on it. She began to arrange everything on a wooden tray that had been a receptacle for clutter on Lucas's counter, holding things like his keys, some random bullet casings, spare change and an assortment of device chargers.

She'd swiped it with the intent of serving her man breakfast in bed.

After the quality time they'd spent making love the past two days, she figured his energy stores could use some replenishing. And he deserved to be pampered some, even if he would hate for her to think that way about him.

When she'd gotten everything just so and slid the steaming omelet onto the white plate with navy edging, she tapped her lips, looking for one finishing touch.

Outside the door, a clump of daisies swayed in the breeze.

With a grin, she slipped out to pick a few.

By the time she'd selected the prettiest ones and come back inside, Lucas was flying into the kitchen. He had his leg on and a pair of loose gym shorts, but nothing else.

"Are you all right? Who's out there?"

He shoved her behind his back and began surveying the yard through the windows, even as he reached into a drawer she'd thought was full of junk. Nope. He pulled out a handgun. The other fist held bullets and he began to load it with rapid, deadly precision.

"Holy crap." She shook her head. "Lucas, calm down. There's no one there. It was me. I went out to get a flower for your breakfast tray."

He turned around and stared at her with such a weird look on his face she had to laugh.

"What?" His head tipped to one side as he studied her handiwork.

"Would you mind putting the gun down?" she asked in a voice too high-pitched to be as casual as she was aiming for.

"Oh, fuck. Sorry." He made sure it was unloaded, then tucked it back into its hiding spot. "I should have warned you about the alarms. I'm not used to guests."

Or being so domesticated, she imagined. For the better part of his life, he'd been surrounded by deception and violence. More than ever, she wanted to give him a normal day or longer. As much as she could manage before they either were torn apart or went their separate ways.

Because sometimes she found it hard to believe that their lives-so drastically different-could actually mesh. That's not to say that she didn't hope for the impossible, like she had those times in Morselli's dungeon. It just meant that she wasn't betting on it.

Lucas must have sensed her melancholy. He put his arms around her and kissed her "good morning" properly.

His warm chest encouraged her to snuggle against it. Her hands wandered down his back to his perfect ass and rested there as she took another taste of him.

Finally he pulled away, wincing. "It looks like I may have ruined a surprise in progress."

"Oh crap. Yeah. Your breakfast is getting cold." She picked up the plate and carried it to the table, patting the chair beside the setting where she'd left her coffee.

"Would you hate me if I wanted something else instead?" He was staring at her with enough hunger in his gaze to guess that he might rather eat her.

"Save that for later. Come on. It's not every day I go to this kind of trouble for a dude." She grinned, knowing she'd gladly cook for him anytime.

"Oh, so I'm a dude now, huh?" He grabbed her around the waist and lifted her, spinning her around until she was dizzy and laughing.

She sighed as he lowered her, letting their bodies glide across one another so perfectly that she might have surrendered to his pleas for alternate nourishment if he'd been even just a bit taller, extending the contact.

As it was, her body betrayed her, her stomach rumbling just when they grew quiet.

"Didn't you make yourself anything?" he asked.

"I was going to share with you." She smiled. "Unless you really plan to put all that away."

It was a mountain of food by her standards, but he burned a hell of a lot of calories each day. Maybe she should have made more. Ellie took a mental note for tomorrow, assuming she'd still be there. With him.

"That sounds even better." He sat, so she did too.

For a while, they ate quietly, enjoying the meal she'd prepared for them. He fed her from his fork, making sure she had her fill before devouring the remainder.

"Is that my music playing or yours?" he asked with a mouthful. She was just glad he'd enjoyed her cooking.

"Oh, I hope you don't mind. I swapped my phone for your iPod in the speaker thingy. I kept the Internet and location stuff switched off like you showed me. Just the incoming calls and the music player are enabled." She wrung her napkin in her fingers. "Is that okay?"

"Yup. Not to freak you out, E, but it's less important to hide since those crooks who broke into your house probably aren't still hunting us. It's been too long. By now, they know the money has slipped between their fingers. If they're smart, they're laying low so that the people who were expecting the cash don't realize it's missing. And once we meet with the guys they were trying to impress, those assholes are going to run me. They'll know where you've been hiding, but hopefully then they'll think of us as their partners. Assets anyway, which will protect us until the true heist." He shrugged. "Don't worry about that shit."

"It's hard not to. I know you're used to this kind of drama, but I'm not." She frowned. "And I'm still not happy that I'm putting you in jeopardy."

"You didn't do anything. We're in this together. And you're doing great, E," he promised. "This is the worst part of a mission. The waiting. Distraction is key. So let's go back to other things. Like how I think your choice of music is pretty funny."

"Why?" She scowled at him even though she realized he was probably trying to get a reaction out of her. It worked. Was it a sin to listen to music while doing chores?

"It seems like we have all the same stuff. The last four songs have been ones I have on my playlist too."

"Really?" She grinned.

"Uh-huh. I knew you had good taste." He kissed the tip of her nose, transferring some cinnamon sugar from his toast onto it. Laughing, he reached for his napkin to wipe it off. And that was when he noticed her drawing.

"Wow, E."

He set down the glass in his other hand and took extra time examining the hasty sketch she'd done. Of the tree, the heart he'd carved in it, their blanket beneath it and the lake in the background. She'd run out of room to really do the landscape justice, though.

"You drew this?"

"No one else here." She shrugged, kind of nervous for him to judge her newfound talent.

"It's great. I can't believe this didn't take you like...weeks."

He seemed in awe as he ran his fingers over the grooves a simple ballpoint pen had etched in the paper. Still chewing his food, he stood up and crossed to his fridge, hanging her drawing on it with one of those magnet-backed bottle openers.

"Hey, that's your napkin." She laughed.

"I'll wipe my hands on my shorts. No way am I going to get that greasy or crumple it." He grinned at her. "I'm going to find a frame for this. You're really talented, you know."

"Thanks. It's just something I picked up. You know, to calm myself," she explained.

"Hang on, you mean to say you weren't already an artist before..."

"Nope." She shook her head.

He blinked at her a couple of times, then let it go at that.

"What kind of stuff did Shari bring for you the other day?" he wondered. And she knew he wasn't talking about her vibrator, because they'd already played with that the night before.

"Paper, some small canvases, paints, a whole rainbow of markers-"

"Like permanent ones?" he asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"Remember those tattoo designs you showed me last night? I wasn't shitting you when I said I really loved them. Could you copy one of those, E? Maybe put one on my prosthesis?"

"I thought you realized...um...I drew those too. They were original art, Lucas."

He marveled at her. "No shit?"

"No shit." She beamed. Since it had been for herself, really, she hadn't shown anyone her projects. "I can't believe you like them enough that you'd want to wear them all the time."

"You know how I don't really like to show people this thing?" He rapped his knuckles on his prosthesis.

"I might have noticed." She nodded.

"Part of the reason is because it looks so...fake, you know?" He glared at the dull-peach carbon fiber that didn't match his skin tone in any way, shape or form. It was blatantly not him.

"Is that the only option? Aesthetically, I mean?"

"No. They have cooler-looking ones that are black, and some custom options, but they're pretty expensive. I get my stuff through the VA. They're not always concerned about factors beyond the functional. With so many people in need, they can't be, really. I get that. I've been fortunate. The hardware itself is good. My prosthetist is pretty fantastic too, which makes all the difference in how things fit and feel. Sadly, he has a lot of practice, considering how many guys are getting torn up overseas lately."

Ellie put her hand on Lucas's, glad he was finally sharing some of this with her. "A prosthetist is a person who makes these, right?"

"Yep. They're custom jobs. Every one. Have to be to mold precisely to each person's stump. Or stumps." He winced. "Anyway, they assigned me to K-level 4, which is the highest. I guess that means I'm eligible for parts that will help me be most active, you know? My foot is actually kind of sweet-it bends and adjusts in a lot of ways to mimic a real one, instead of just being a blob on the end of a stick. Plus, just last week I got a running blade, which is cool. I can push my road workouts a lot farther now with that. I'm thankful, I am. You know, that I can do pretty much everything I did before, with some practice. It just means that my stuff isn't always very attractive. I guess that's a pretty vain thing to worry about."

"Nah." Ellie stopped him. He was obviously a man who took a lot of pride in his body. And his self-expression. Otherwise, he wouldn't be so boldly decorated. His skin was his canvas. That peach socket was like a giant ink-blot stain on a magnificent painting. "I completely understand. It should feel like part of you."

"So...would you decorate it for me? In kind of a tattoo style?"

"What?" She was shocked. He'd trust her with something that important? "I...Lucas, I don't have any training or anything. I just do this for the hell of it. What if I fuck it up?"

"First, it couldn't be any fuglier than this. Second, I'm even more impressed that you've taught yourself how to do this." He leaned in for a lingering kiss. "You're a natural, E. I believe in you. How about you just stare at it for a while and see what you come up with? If it speaks to you, do it. If not, that's okay too."

"Actually, it's kind of a weird thing." She shrugged one shoulder. "That is how it happens for me. It's like I can sense things in a different way than I used to and once I have that enhanced representation in my mind, I can copy it down on paper just the way I see it. I know that's bizarre-"

"More like incredible, E. In the best sense of the word." Lucas studied her as if she might have some other random superpowers. "Do your doctors have any idea why that happened to you?"

"Obviously, nothing concrete. A few theories, though. The one that makes the most sense to me?"

"Yeah?"

"I used to do a lot of things to put my mind somewhere else. You know, during..." She swallowed hard and his arms came around her immediately.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want. I was just curious."

"There isn't much more to say. Just that I think I might have unlocked part of my brain I never used before. It became my safe place. Where everything around me seemed as enticing as my reality was repulsive."

"I guess we can sometimes be a lot stronger than we ever suspected we were capable of, when we're challenged by life." He sighed.

"You're right about that." She thought of how he'd coped. Sure, they were both working on shit, but they'd done pretty damn well, considering.

"Well, I think it's a phenomenal gift, E. I'd really love if you'd use it on me. Please?"

He surprised and thrilled her by reaching down and doffing his prosthesis all on his own. As if he finally was sure it didn't bother her and wouldn't change what she thought of him to see him as he was and would always be from now on.

That kind of courage alone deserved to be recognized.

And if it would make things easier for him...

"Okay. Let me see what comes to mind. Or do you have a design you're thinking of?" she asked.

"I'm open. Do whatever you like."

Lucas sat there and watched her spin his foot around in her hand, cataloging the unique curves and bumps. She didn't know how long she'd been there, letting inspiration strike when he stood.

To her surprise, he hopped into the sunroom and retrieved her supplies, bringing them back without even flinching as she smiled up at him. "Thank you."

She hoped he realized she meant for trusting her more than for his fetching.

"I'm gonna leave you alone so you can work." He kissed her quickly so neither of them could get out of hand.

"Wait..." She hated to admit she liked having him near.