Skin Deep (Station Seventeen #1)

“If someone’s posing a clear and present danger, defending yourself in order to survive is necessary, Kellan.”


But the smile that pulled at his lips in response held no joy. “It’s not the actions that fuck with you. It’s what comes after.”

Kellan thought the words would feel sharper or more rusty upon exit—he’d never spoken them to a soul.But they flowed into the warm, softly lit space between him and Isabella with ease, so he opened his mouth and came out with the rest.

“Devon and I were in Afghanistan toward the end of our second tour, way the hell out in a remote part of the country. Our unit was tasked with doing routine sweeps on a couple of different villages. Part of our job was to look out for insurgents who wanted to hurt us, but we were also there to make sure the locals remained safe.”

Isabella didn’t move or interrupt, just kept her hand steady on his arm as she listened, and the story rushed from the box in Kellan’s memory right past his lips.

“Devon and I paired off to check this one dwelling, just like we’d done on probably twenty other days just like that one. Only this time, an insurgent who had been hiding in the back took Devon hostage with a gun to his head, point-blank.”

“Jesus,” Isabella gasped, her fingers tightening. “What did you do?”

Kellan paused, allowing himself just a split second to remember the heat that had punched through his lungs instead of air, and the cold, hateful cadence of the man’s voice as he’d spoken.

If you move, I will kill your friend. You’ll watch him die screaming, and then I’ll kill you just as slowly. Your men will come running, and they too will die. All of you will die today.

“I shot the guy between the eyes within the span of a heartbeat.”

Isabella’s lashes fanned upward. “He had a gun to Devon’s head. You did what you had to in order to save your best friend’s life.”

“And I don’t regret it,” Kellan said, the truth tumbling out unchecked. “The guy would’ve killed me and Devon and every last man in our unit if he’d had the chance. But I didn’t think. I didn’t feel. Christ, I wasn’t even scared. I pulled that trigger and killed that man, and then I took all the emotions that came afterward and I locked them the fuck away, just like I do when I run into burning buildings. That’s what I’m good at, and it’s why I chose to become a firefighter. I don’t think about the danger. I scan, I assess, I focus, but I never, ever feel.”

He broke off, his defenses giving up a last-ditch warning to shut his trap and keep his emotions where they belonged, buried deep below the surface of his control. But Isabella was right there in front of him, with her fiery convictions and her bold words and that honest stare that saw right fucking through him, and he didn’t stop talking at all.

He trusted her.

“I’ve spent the last ten years compartmentalizing every emotion I have, because if I don’t, I can’t act. So instead I keep everything packed away. But I’m really just going through the motions. I can’t let go and really feel something with all I’ve got, even if that thing is good, because I don’t know how to do that without breaking.”

Isabella leaned in, her eyes never moving from his. “Is that what you want? To really feel something good with all you’ve got?”

Yes. God, yes.

Kellan realized he’d said the words out loud only when she reached up to curve her palm over his face and answered, “Then let me give it to you.”

“Isabella,” he started, but her fingers pressed against the center of his mouth, halting the rest.

“You’ve been here for me this whole time. You’ve had my back, even in the beginning when I fought you every step of the way. You deserve for someone to show you the good man that you are. You deserve to feel good, without holding back.”

She moved close enough that he could feel the heat of her body and breath, and Christ, he’d never wanted to let go and just feel so badly in his life.

“Let me give this to you, Kellan. Let me have you for a change. Let me make you feel everything, no holding back.”





25





Isabella’s heart pounded against her breastbone as she angled her mouth over Kellan’s in one fluid movement. Her offer had been brash, she knew. But the ragged need in his eyes when he’d said he wanted to feel without holding back had shot all the way through her, filling her with certainty.

He was a good man. A brave, fierce, incredible man. He didn’t just deserve to hear that. He deserved to really feel it, all the way in his blood and bones.

And Isabella was going to show it to him the best way she knew how.

“Come with me,” she said, shifting her feet to the floorboards and straightening to a stand in front of him.

Although Kellan didn’t say anything, he complied, letting her thread her fingers through his as she led him to his bedroom, not stopping until they were a few feet shy of the mattress.

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