by Karen Rose
She gave him a dry smile to try to hide how sad she felt at seeing all that red. ‘Should we put it on my fridge?’
He slid it across the table to her. ‘Sure.’
Her brows lifted, but she did as he indicated, making sure the page was hung squarely, the magnet properly centered. ‘There you go.’
He looked at the red pencil in his hand, shorter now by half than when he’d started. ‘I’ll get you another red pencil. I almost used this one up.’
‘If you want to, but you don’t have to.’
He looked at the stack of pages on her side of the table. ‘What are those?’
‘My Little Pony, Elsa from Frozen, and horses. My niece is coming tomorrow with a horde of her nine-year-old friends.’
He smiled then, so sweetly that she stared. ‘You girls have a good time.’ He stood up and pushed his chair in. ‘I won’t bother you again, but thank you for letting me sit here tonight. I’ll see you in the morning at Zimmerman’s.’ He turned for the door, then looked back over his shoulder to where she still sat, stunned and staring. ‘Lock up after me. And get some drapes.’
Meredith followed him to the door, still unable to think. His smile, his real smile, had short-circuited her brain. ‘Good night,’ she managed. ‘Be careful.’
He hesitated in the open doorway, then stroked her cheek once, his touch feather-light. ‘Good night. Lock up.’
She closed the door and locked it, then stood at her big window watching him cross the street and get into his car. He sat there for at least a minute, maybe longer, then cranked the ignition and drove away. It was then that she realized he’d left his clothes in her dryer.
No worry there. He’d be back eventually, if for no other reason to color in a room where he wasn’t alone. She’d keep his clothes until then.
Cincinnati, Ohio,
Thursday 13 August, 10.50 P.M.
Decker stared at Kate in the quiet of the safe house kitchen, her confession hanging between them. Because it was my fault.
Bullshit, Decker thought viciously. Kate’s brother-in-law had shot himself in the head in her apartment. How that possibly could have been her fault was beyond him, but he didn’t try to dissuade her, because she clearly believed what she’d said. ‘How?’ he asked quietly.
‘I . . . We pushed him into doing something that he didn’t want to do. Johnnie and I.’
He opened his mouth again and it hung that way as images of threesomes flitted across the big screen in his mind.
Her eyes widened. ‘No,’ she said quickly, obviously reading him accurately. ‘Not like that. Not . . . sexual.’ She grimaced. ‘Holy God. The very thought.’ She shook her head hard. ‘I’m by no means a prude, Decker, but um . . . I keep it to two. Two.’
He let out a relieved breath. ‘Good to know.’
Her lips twitched, surprising him again. ‘Oh my God. The look on your face . . .’ Her shoulders shook with silent laughter. ‘It was almost worth the embarrassment just now.’
‘I’m a country boy, Kate,’ he said wryly. ‘I like things basic. Two people. I don’t care how they mix it up gender-wise, but I’m not . . . I can’t imagine more than two. I mean, I know other people get into the kinkier things, because I saw it. Furloughs, you know.’
‘Oh, I know.’ Her eyes still twinkled.
‘You’re having entirely too much fun at my expense,’ he grumbled, but he didn’t mean it. She was smiling again and he’d needed to see that. Needed it like he needed food. And air. He drew a breath that felt easier. Freer.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said.
‘No you’re not, but it’s okay.’ He lifted a hand to her face, tentatively stroking her cheek with his thumb, gratified when she leaned into his touch. She hadn’t really answered his question about why she thought her brother-in-law’s suicide was her fault, but he’d let it go for now because she was smiling again. ‘So . . . not a prude?’
Her cheeks flamed, but she didn’t look away, and that sent his respect for her up several more notches. ‘No.’
‘Good to know,’ he said again, continuing to stroke her face, enjoying the feel of her skin.
She closed her eyes on a sigh as if she’d needed this too. ‘What’s going on, Decker?’
‘I don’t know. But I like it. It’s been a long time since I’ve . . . well, not been a prude.’
She didn’t open her eyes. ‘How long?’ she asked reluctantly.
‘Well, it wasn’t going to happen while I was undercover, that’s for damn sure. God. I wouldn’t have let my guard down for a split second around any of those vipers.’
She did open her eyes then, skewering him. ‘How long, Decker?’
He was tempted to make a joke, to laugh it off, but the seriousness in her wide brown eyes wouldn’t let him. ‘Four years,’ he answered quietly. ‘The night before Beth got into that Humvee. After that . . . I couldn’t. Not with just anyone.’
Something shifted in her eyes. ‘There’s no shame in that,’ she murmured.
His throat grew tight, his skin too warm. ‘How long for you?’
‘Almost the same. Johnnie’s been gone three years, but he was too sick for months before that. Chemo leveled him. It was . . . difficult to watch.’
‘You took care of him.’ It wasn’t a question. That she’d care for her dying husband was as sure as anything he’d ever believed.
‘Until he drew his final breath.’
‘Where was this?’
‘Chicago. It was my assignment before Baltimore.’
‘Baltimore was where you met Deacon.’
She nodded, nuzzling her cheek into his hand. ‘He was my friend when I desperately needed one. That’s why I came to Cincinnati. Because I desperately needed a friend again.’
‘Because of Jack.’
She pursed her lips, but nodded. ‘I know I didn’t answer your question before. But I can’t. Not right now.’
‘Then it’ll keep,’ he murmured softly.
‘Thank you. I . . . I came here tonight because I was hoping for this.’
‘Barbecue?’ he asked lightly and was gratified to see her smile again, albeit a sad one.
‘Yeah. Barbecue. And this.’ Another nuzzle of her cheek into his hand. ‘I watched Sidney’s parents grieve, Decker. I watched Chelsea grieve. And . . . I needed something.’
‘Human contact. Don’t,’ he said sharply when she started to pull away. ‘I need it too. I’ve been alone for a long time, Kate. And then one night I got a rifle poked in my back and some broad was ordering me to get down on the ground with my hands visible.’
Her lips curved. ‘What a mean bitch that broad was, to do that to you.’
‘It was hotter than hell,’ he confessed. ‘Especially when I looked up and saw you. And then everything went to shit and it was dark and . . . and then I heard you talking to me. Felt you touching me. You stroked my hair. Why?’
Her swallow was audible in the quiet of the kitchen. ‘Because I needed to. I needed to do something for you. You were alone and so was I.’
‘You weren’t alone. You had friends.’
‘Yes. But time marches on and people change. Deacon was my best friend, but now he has other friends. His family is here. He has a life. I’m not jealous, really I’m not. I’m so damn happy for him. But I guess maybe I’m feeling a little displaced.’
‘I get that. I felt that way when I came home from Afghanistan. Nobody was waiting for me here. Nobody was waiting for me there. Everyone was dead. It’s unsettling.’
‘We need tethers.’ She looked at him, troubled now. ‘Is that all this is?’
‘No, I don’t think so. Richard Symmes was a friend, a tether if you will. But while I’ll grieve him and miss him like hell, I sure didn’t feel like this about him.’
‘Like what?’ It was almost a purr and made him catch his breath. Made him want. He wanted everything and he wanted it now. He held himself back, because once he got started, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop. He exhaled quietly. ‘I think this could be a bad idea.’
She jerked back out of his reach, looking away. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘And I’m a clumsy bastard. I didn’t mean what you think I meant.’ He turned her chair so that they were facing each other and spread his thighs, pulling her chair between them. Slowly he reached out and touched her face, giving her time to tell him no. But he got no protest, so he wiggled his fingers up into the rich red hair she’d pinned to the back of her head in a pretty twist. He massaged her scalp and she melted like butter, moaning softly once again.
‘What did you mean then?’ It was a breathy, husky murmur that made him harder when he hadn’t thought it possible.
‘I meant that it’s been four years since I touched a woman and if I start something it’ll be a breaking dam. It won’t be pretty.’
‘Mmmm, I see. Exploding concrete and rushing water. The valley will become a lake. Townsfolk in jeopardy. Crowds of people rushing to escape, trampling each other like stampeding wildebeests. I get it.’
Stampeding wildebeests? His lips twitched. ‘I’m serious, Kate. I won’t be able to stop.’
She drew a very deep breath, then leaned closer. ‘Maybe I wouldn’t want you to,’ she whispered. ‘Besides, you just got out of a coma. How much punch can you possibly pack?’
It was a dare, silkily delivered, sending a shiver racing over his skin. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Then maybe we should find out.’ She leaned in until her lips brushed his, her eyes so close that he could see golden flecks that weren’t visible from further away. ‘And if I want you to stop, I’ll stop you. That’s a promise.’
His heart was pounding like a jackhammer inside of his chest. ‘I don’t want to hurt you. I got a lotta need stored up.’ He heard his drawl emerge and he didn’t even care.
Her chuckle vibrated against his lips. ‘Shut up and kiss me, Decker.’ Then she grabbed his shirt and kissed him first.
He sucked in a gasp. It wasn’t sweet and it wasn’t tentative. It was hot and hard and hungry.
God, she was hungry. Just like me.
His fingers tightened in her hair and he jerked her closer. And the fucking dam broke. He kissed her greedily, starving for the feel of her on his lips, in his hands. He tugged and she fell into him, her hands on his shoulders. She was touching him. Not just a stroke of his hair or holding his hand, but really touching him.
It wasn’t enough. He’d known it wouldn’t be enough. He ripped his mouth away, his breath coming in pants. But hers was too, so he felt no shame. He pulled one hand from her hair to grab the hand that clutched his shirt, splaying it flat against the skin at his open collar, a jolt of electricity his reward. ‘Please,’ he whispered, not caring that he was begging. ‘It’s been too long.’
Too long since he’d been simply touched. Although there was nothing simple about what she was doing to him. Holding his gaze, she unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt and slid her hands under the fabric, spreading her fingers wide, and he groaned softly. He hadn’t known how much he needed this.
She slid her palms slowly over his skin, inching her way across his pecs to his shoulders. ‘I don’t want to go near your bandage.’ She scooted to the edge of her chair, running one hand over his shoulder under his shirt to cup the back of his neck. Then she pulled him in for another kiss, softer this time.
Sweeter. Slower. Sumptuous. Like a rich dark chocolate meant to be savored. He hummed his appreciation and she sucked his lower lip into her mouth for a little tug before releasing him.
‘How’s the dam?’ she asked against his lips, making him smile.
‘The valley is an ocean, but the townsfolk are evacuating in an orderly fashion.’
She giggled, sounding, for that moment, so very young and carefree. It made him proud, because he didn’t think she was carefree very often. ‘So they’re safe?’ she asked.
‘For now. I make no promises, though. Their situation could change on a dime.’
‘I thought they’d be okay. Your dam didn’t break. It just needed to vent a little steam.’
He brushed his lips over hers, enjoying the texture. ‘You’re mixing metaphors.’
‘So sue me.’
‘I’d rather hold you.’ He ran his hands down her sides, biting the inside of his lip to keep from touching her breasts, gripping the curve of her waist instead. He pulled her closer. ‘Come here.’ He patted his thigh.
She shook her head with a frown. ‘I’ll hurt you.’
He parroted her words back to her. ‘If I want you to stop, I’ll stop you. That’s a promise.’
‘No fair, using my words against me,’ she muttered, her eyes lit up, all trace of sadness gone. She straddled his thighs and lowered herself to his lap, resting her arms on his shoulders, her hands clasped loosely at the back of his neck. ‘If Dani catches me, she’ll throw me out.’
She was holding herself rigid, feet planted on the floor, supporting her own weight. He pulled her down so that she put all her weight on him. Ah. Better. He bracketed her thighs with his arms, palming the round cheeks of the butt he’d admired that morning. He grinned when she frowned at him, but she made no effort to move.
‘It’ll be like being a teenager again,’ he said lightly. ‘Necking on the front porch in the dark and listening for your folks with half an ear so your dad doesn’t chase me away with a shotgun.’
The light in her eyes abruptly extinguished, and he could see her tongue rubbing her front tooth. He stilled, studying her face. He’d been teasing, but her reaction was troubled. Almost haunted. ‘What’s up with the tooth?’ he asked casually.
She froze, her tongue sliding back into her mouth, and he wanted to follow it with his own, but he held back. He nudged her by jiggling his thigh. ‘Kate?’ Gently he pushed her upper lip up, focusing on the tooth. It was two-toned, but only if you looked closely. At some point it had been broken and she’d had it fixed.
Sudden understanding made him angry. ‘Who hit you?’ he asked, very softly.
She pushed off his lap and he wanted to pull her back, but he let her go. She washed her hands, then began searching the cupboards for mixing bowls, measuring cups, and the baking ingredients she’d brought from the grocery store.
He sat there, watching her. Her hands never stopped and he remembered the knitting from that afternoon. She kept her hands busy when she was stressed. ‘I didn’t mean to open an old wound,’ he murmured.
‘You didn’t. It’s never closed.’
‘Then why are you baking?’
‘Because I enjoy it. It’s a de-stresser and I’ve had a rather stressful day.’
‘How much did you knit today?’
She gave him a sideways glance. ‘Counting the hours you were asleep? Several inches.’
‘What’s it going to be?’
She smiled as she measured out flour into the bowl. ‘This or the knitting?’
‘Either. Both.’
‘I’m knitting a blanket for a vet in the VA hospital. Any soldier who needs it. This,’ she said, measuring out the sugar, ‘will be the best brownies you have ever put in your mouth.’
He was touched, but not surprised. Of course she’d be thinking of the vets. The brownies were a surprise, but a very pleasant one, especially as he’d just been thinking about dark chocolate. ‘I dunno. Mama D was a very good cook and she taught me what she knew. She made a mean peach pie, and if you’re a good girl, I’ll make it for you.’
She gave him a naughty look that had him shifting in his chair. ‘What if I’m a bad girl?’
‘Then I’ll give you Mama D’s secret rec
ipe.’
‘Mmm. I’ll give it some serious thought, then.’
He was quiet for a few minutes, watching. She handled the ingredients like a pro, working from memory. He waited until she’d poured the batter into the pan. ‘Who hit you, Kate?’
She let out a breath, then turned away to slide the pan into the oven. Straightening, she began to clean up. She was silent for so long that he didn’t think she’d answer, but she finally sighed and said, ‘My father. I was not what you’d call a biddable child.’
‘If you’re going to say you deserved it, you need to be prepared for me to yell at you.’
‘No need for that. I didn’t deserve any of the beatings he gave me. Neither did my brothers, but we thought we did at the time. Usually he hit where the bruises wouldn’t show. One particular day, he was too angry to aim and I was too slow to duck.’
‘So he broke your tooth.’
‘Yep.’
He drew a breath and let it out. ‘Did anyone call the cops?’
She smiled bitterly. ‘He was a cop. Still is. He’s the captain now. Small-town police force in Iowa. Very small town. Nearest city is Des Moines, a couple of hours away.’
Fury had him literally seeing red, but he forced himself to calm down. ‘What happened that particular day?’
‘He’d been suspended for using undue force to subdue a teenager who weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet. The kid was gay and a friend of mine. I had the bad judgment to tell my father that I agreed with the suspension, that he’d behaved like a bully and a thug.’
‘So to show you that he wasn’t a bully and a thug, he hit you . . . like a bully and a thug.’
Her lips curved. ‘Essentially.’
‘Where was your mother during all this?’
‘Standing at his side.’ She’d put all the bowls in the dishwasher and was now scrubbing the countertop with more force than necessary. ‘When I picked myself up off the floor, she slapped me back down. Said that I had to apologize or find another place to live when I turned eighteen.’
Decker’s jaw hurt from clenching it so hard. ‘When would you have been eighteen?’
‘Another eight months. I figured my life would be shit until then, but I wouldn’t apologize – I was far too stubborn.’