“Is she awake yet?” Jesse murmured.
Gideon shook his head.
“Good.” He turned on the hot spray without standing. “That means we can wake her up properly.” 10
She dreamed of darkness.
Not the vague shadows of dusk. Not the vacuum of nothingness. This was the solid absence of light in the company of solid shape, all encompassing, all enwrapped. It wasn’t frightening. On the contrary, Emma took comfort in the darkness that held her in its embrace. It smelled of Jesse’s body wash, of Gideon’s cologne. Arms belonging to both men cradled her, and she burrowed into skin she knew as well as her own.