THE SEATS IN OUR SLEEPER compartment folded down into a bed. One bed. Barely large enough for two, if you liked each other very much.
There was no couch to retreat to this time. So I shouldn’t have been surprised when Tank slipped back into the shoes he’d unlaced the moment we entered our compartment. “I’ll be in the dining car.”
That would have been the safe route. The smart route.
But I was feeling neither safe nor smart.
Instead, I reached up and grabbed his lapels, halting his forward momentum. “Wait.”
His eyes struck mine like a physical blow. My breath caught in my throat.
“I’m not that much of a gentleman,” Tank growled. “Last time, you were exhausted and wounded. This time, if you ask me to stay....”
“I’m not asking. I’m telling.”
The words carried us all the way to the bed
