Lip Service

by Susan Mallery

  “To talk to you about what it’s really like, long term. To tell you that it’s going to get better, but not until you accept that your life has changed. Beating yourself up, mentally and physically, won’t make it go away. You’ve got to be smart about the prosthesis.”

  “Assuming Joss gives it back to me.”

  “He will. But take it slow this time. You have to adjust.”

  “Slow isn’t my favorite speed.”

  “It won’t have to be for long. You have sex yet?”

  The question surprised Mitch. “Yes.”

  “Good. Some guys put it off. You need to get back on the horse, so to speak.”

  Mitch thought about Skye and the way she’d lost herself in the moment. “It wasn’t with a horse.”

  Alex laughed. “I didn’t think so. Did you get on top?”

  Mitch hesitated. “No. I wasn’t sure…”

  “You’ll have to practice. If you’re not in a relationship, wait until you’re comfortable with the lady. It takes a bit to get the leverage right.” Alex grinned. “But it’s worth it.”

  Mitch’s imagination went back to Skye, but instead of picturing them outside, on the ground, he imagined a bed and her below him, breathing hard, her eyes sinking closed. It didn’t seem to matter how angry he was with her, he still wanted her.

  “You’re not the only one going through this,” Alex said, pulling Mitch back from his fantasy. “Everyone around you is adjusting, too. Your friends and family don’t know what to expect or how to act. Should they help? Get out of the way? Ask how you feel? Most people want to do the right thing but don’t want to push. Help them by being honest. If you don’t want help, say so. If you want assistance, make that clear. If you expect them to guess right every time, you will be losing a whole lot more than a few toes.”

  Mitch looked at the other man. “It’s hard for me to consider that the people around me are going through something, too.”

  “They are. It’s a big change, but it doesn’t have to be a bad one. It’s all up to you. Take control.”

  “That I can do,” Mitch told him.

  IZZY LACED UP her climbing shoes. T.J. waited until she was done to hand her a harness. She grabbed it from him, feeling crabby and not sure why. He’d called and asked her to go rock climbing. She’d accepted the invitation. So why did she want to snap at him?

  There were a lot of complicated reasons, she thought, tightening the harness. Most of them revolved around her sister, but it was a lot easier to be pissed at T.J.

  She wanted to yell at him, but couldn’t think of a good reason. Maybe she could complain about the date. She was good enough to sweat with but not good enough for dinner and a movie? Except she wasn’t the dinner and a movie type. If they were going to have fun, they should have fun. If the night was about sex, why waste a lot of time eating a meal she probably didn’t want or seeing a movie? They should get to the sex.

  But what was rock climbing? It was the kind of afternoon you could spend with a relative.

  “You look like you want to take me on,” he said. “Are you mad at me?”

  “No.” The word came out sharper than she intended. “You’re dating my sister.”

  “Skye and I have been to dinner.”

  “That’s a date.”

  “I didn’t say it wasn’t.”

  “You can’t be interested in both of us. We’re totally different.”

  “I’m a guy with varied interests.”

  Not a good enough answer. “If you have a sister sex fantasy, let me be clear. Yuck. And no way in hell.”

  He grinned. “I hadn’t thought about it but now that you mention it…”

  She glanced around for something to throw at him. “I’m serious.”

  “Then I guess I have to be. Do you want to get exclusive?”

  She blinked at him. “Excuse me?”

  “Should we get serious, be boyfriend and girlfriend, only see each other and no one else?”

  Izzy took three steps back and had to resist the need to make the sign of the cross. “No way. Why would you even ask that? We’ve been out twice. I barely know you.”

  He tightened his own harness. “I’m going to bask in the boost you just gave my ego. After that endorsement, I can die a happy man.”

  He was slick, she would give him that. And smart. But what else was he? “Okay, I get your point. We’ve only been out a couple of times. Why should I care that you’re seeing anyone else when I don’t feel the need to avoid other men.”

  “You have other men?” he asked.

  “Not the issue. I don’t care who else you see.” Except for Skye, she thought, the crabby feeling coming back. But why should she sweat any of it? She did though and that complicated everything.

  “I don’t care who else you see, unless it’s my sister. You should make things easy and just pick one of us to pursue.”

  “Any suggestions as to which one would work out best?”

  If she said herself, then Skye could get hurt. She would certainly think Izzy was trying to make a point. But Izzy wasn’t ready to back out, either. Mostly to see how far T.J. would take things.

  “You two could decide between you,” he told her.

  “You’re not that much of a prize.”

  He clutched his chest. “Wait for it. Ego boost number two. I’m not sure I’m going to get my head through the door when we’re done here.”

  “This is stupid,” she said, and walked to the wall. After hooking her harness to the line, she reached for the first handhold.

  T.J. came up behind her and put his hands on her waist. He moved close, so they were touching—his front to her back. He was warm and strong and masculine and she liked the feel of him next to her.

  “Don’t walk away,” he murmured into her ear. “Please.”

  “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.”

  He turned her until they were facing, then bent down and kissed her.

  This wasn’t like the first kiss where all he did was claim and take. This time he kissed her gently, pressing his lips to hers lightly enough to promise but not enough to push. He moved slowly, as if giving her time.

  She liked his mouth on hers. Liked the way he rubbed and teased before touching his tongue to her lower lip. Which asked a question. Did she want to take this to the next level?

  She parted her lips, as much because she was curious as because she was enjoying the contact. His tongue swept inside, claiming her. Unexpected passion shot through her, making her catch her breath. Not that she wanted him to know.

  He tasted of coffee and mint. His fingers were warm, barely touching her waist. Their tongues tangled and danced. Surprising heat poured through her, making her go wet and weak in all the right places.

  The sound of people approaching made her pull back.

  She stared into T.J.’s blue eyes. Wanting flared there. He looked like a man who needed to get laid. But was she the right woman to satisfy that itch?

  If he’d been anyone else, she would have suggested blowing off rock climbing and adjourning to whoever’s place was closest. But that wasn’t an option. Not with Skye in the picture.

  “Don’t walk away,” he repeated, still staring into her eyes.

  “All right.”

  The words were pulled from her. They came from deep inside and she hadn’t known she was going to say them. He rubbed her lips with his thumb.

  She turned back to the wall and started to climb. She wanted to go as high as she could, up the steepest wall, so all she had to think about was hanging on. After all, the alternative was to fall.

  ARTURO KNOCKED on Mitch’s open office door.

  “I’m going to drive the fence lines,” his manager said. “Want to come with me?”

  Anytime up to two days ago, Mitch would have refused and he guessed Arturo expected him to. But Alex’s point had been a good one—Fidela and Arturo had to adjust to the changes nearly as much as he did. This wasn’t easy on them, either.
/>   “Sure,” he said, and saved his work, then grabbed his crutches.

  “You feeling better?” Arturo asked as they made their way to the truck parked behind the barn.

  “I’m healing. I need to call about my temporary prosthesis.” Assuming Joss was ready to give it back to him. Mitch had a feeling the new socket had come in fairly quickly, but Joss wouldn’t tell him that. He would wait for Mitch to make the first move.

  “How’s the temporary one different?” Arturo asked, then held up a hand. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

  “You can ask,” Mitch told him. He waited for his friend to open the truck door, then slid onto the passenger seat. When Arturo was behind the wheel, Mitch continued.

  “The temporary prosthesis has a different kind of foot on it. It’s easier to learn to walk with it. The permanent leg will have a spring-loaded foot, which will ultimately give me more endurance and a more natural walk, but it takes getting used to.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “I was walking too much on an incision that wasn’t completely healed. I got a few raw spots that I didn’t take care of.”

  “You’re okay now, though, right?”

  Mitch smiled. “Let’s say I’ve learned my lesson. I don’t like being on crutches and will do what I have to so I can stay off them.”

  “Fidela worries about you.”

  “I know.” Arturo worried, too, but he wouldn’t admit that.

  They rode in silence to the fence line. Mitch stared out at the cattle, grazing in the warm sun.

  “This is better,” Arturo said. “The cattle are healthier.”

  “If you’re trying to convince me about going organic, I’m starting to see your point,” Mitch admitted. “I’ve been looking over the books. We’re averaging two dollars a pound more than regular beef. And the cattle don’t get sick, which is a cost savings.”

  “It’s more than that,” the other man said, driving slowly by the fence. “We respect the land. All those chemicals and pesticides weren’t good. We contract with three small farms for organic feed to supplement the grass. They had to be certified, as well. Now they’re growing more vegetables that they’re selling. The grasslands are coming back. We breed the cows later, so the calves are born closer to summer. The weather’s better and they can eat grass.”

  He stopped the truck and climbed out to inspect a post, then returned to the truck.

  “To stay organic, the land around us has to avoid chemicals. The groundwater is better quality.”

  “I swear if Fidela starts serving tofu for dinner, I’m firing you both.”

  Arturo grinned. “No tofu. I hate the stuff. She keeps saying she’s going to put it in a burrito and I won’t know the difference, but she wouldn’t do more than threaten.”

  “She’s a good woman.”

  “Yes, she is. You know, she checks on you in the night sometimes.”

  Mitch hadn’t known that. “Why?”

  “To see that you’re really there.”

  He wondered if there was more to it than that. He wondered if she heard him screaming. “Sometimes I have nightmares.”

  Arturo glanced at him, then returned his attention to the dirt road. “About the explosion?”

  “Mostly right after.” He wasn’t sure if he remembered the explosion or had heard about it enough that he thought he did. “There are missions I dream about.” Mostly ones where someone he cared about died.

  “You were gone a long time. You did things. Saw things.”

  Mitch nodded.

  “You could have come home.”

  Mitch looked at his friend. “I was—” He didn’t have an excuse.

  “We’re your family. We raised you, loved you. You don’t have our name, but you are as much our child as any we could have had. Fidela prayed for you every night. Not a day went by that she didn’t speak of you. But you never came home to see her.”

  Or him, Mitch thought, waiting for the anger. It was the familiar response, the easy one. But for once, it wasn’t there. Instead he felt regret and sadness.

  “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t want to come back.”

  “Because of Skye.”

  It wasn’t a question.

  “Because I didn’t belong here.”

  “You have always belonged.”

  “Because I didn’t want to be here. I didn’t want to see…” Everything he’d lost. Everything that wasn’t his. “I’m sorry,” he repeated.

  “I know.”

  Arturo did know and he probably understood, which only made Mitch feel worse. “I’ll talk to Fidela.”

  “She would like that. She’s making a baby blanket for your friend Pete. His wife called after…to say what a hero you were to them. She mentioned she was pregnant.”

  “That’s nice of her,” he said, knowing both Pete and his wife would appreciate it. They didn’t have a lot of family around.

  Without wanting to, he remembered the noise and chaos right after the explosion. Pete had been dragging him, yelling at him to hang on. At first Mitch hadn’t felt anything but stunned and confused. Then he looked down and saw blood, bone and muscle where his leg had been.

  His first instinct had been to run so far and so fast, he could go back in time before any of it had happened. But he couldn’t move, could barely keep breathing as Pete dragged him behind an overturned truck.

  He remembered the blood on Pete’s jacket, but hadn’t known where it had come from. Himself, Pete or someone else.

  “Stay here,” Pete had yelled over the gunfire. “I’m going to find a medic.”

  After talking to the doctors, Mitch knew he’d been in shock from the explosion and the blood loss. He’d been unable to speak, but when his friend had disappeared, he’d managed to grab his gun, turn over and lay down some cover.

  The pain had come then. Dark and alive, it had sucked the strength from him. He’d wanted to curl up and scream. Instead he’d searched for the snipers pinning them down and had picked off at least two of them.

  He’d fired until he was out of ammo, then he’d crawled to a fallen enemy, had taken his rifle and used it until Pete returned.

  “Pete saved my life,” he said. “He dragged me to safety and got a medic to stop the bleeding. He was wounded himself, but didn’t stop to get help until later.”

  “The way his wife tells it, you saved his life,” Arturo told him. “You saved everyone. You’re getting a medal.”

  “I don’t want it.” What would it prove or change?

  “You should take it. People like to say thank you.”

  “Good point.” He wanted to thank Pete for saving him. He’d tried but his friend had brushed off the words. They were a team. They took care of each other.

  They crested a small rise. Arturo stopped the truck and watched a couple of calves running around their mothers. It was a perfect scene, Mitch thought. Far from war and pain and anything ugly.

  “Maybe you should talk to someone,” Arturo said without looking at him. “A professional. I know you won’t tell me everything. I can’t understand and you wouldn’t want to burden me. But you need to talk, Mitch. It starts the healing.”

  “I’m doing okay.” He rubbed his leg. “It barely hurts anymore.” Which was almost true.

  “I’m not talking about the outside. You need to talk to someone.”

  “I’ll think about it,” he said, and wondered if they both knew he was lying.

  CHAPTER NINE

  TRISHA, THE FOUNDATION’S chief financial officer, had requested a meeting. Skye found herself dreading it, knowing there was unlikely to be good news.

  Garth’s attacks came from every direction and without warning. He was smart, determined and apparently unconcerned about the consequences of his actions. He wanted every Titan taken down. She was starting to wonder if he would get his wish.

  Trisha arrived at her office exactly on time and closed the door behind her. The knot in Skye’s stomach doubled in size, then ha
rdened into an uncomfortable rock.

  “You don’t look happy,” she said, studying Trisha’s concerned expression. “I guess we should sit down.”

  Trisha moved to the small round table in the corner and spread out several sheets of paper. Skye joined her.

  “It’s bad,” Trisha said bluntly. “Our internal investigation shows many members of the senior staff were paid huge bonuses. In a few cases, the amount given them exceeds their annual salary.”

  Skye felt her mouth drop open. She had to consciously close it. “That’s not possible. We don’t do that. You know we don’t do that.”

  “I agree,” Trisha told her. “Nonprofits are held to extremely high standards. There are regulations in place. There is also an unwritten code of ethics.”

  Her tone sounded a little preachy, which Skye didn’t like. “Trisha, you know me. You’ve worked for me from the beginning. You know how I feel about the foundation. I’ve poured myself into it and I would never do anything to jeopardize our mission. We don’t pay bonuses. Ever. That’s a very clear policy.”

  “I know, but they’re in the system.” Trisha pointed to several columns. “I’m very angry and upset about this. As CFO, I have tremendous exposure on this. I’m ultimately responsible for the money. These payments didn’t come through my department. I’ve been over the accounting books and I can’t find their origin, but they’re there. It’s almost as if there were a second set of books this entire time and they’ve somehow merged.”

  A second set of books? Is that what people were going to think? Skye wanted to pick up a chair and toss it through the window.

  “That’s not possible,” she said.

  “Then how do you explain what’s happening?”

  Garth, she thought grimly. This was so him. But how had he done it? How had he hacked into the foundation’s computer system and screwed around?

  “How secure are our electronic records?” Skye asked.

  “Very. The firewall is state-of-the-art. If you’re suggesting someone broke in…”

  “It’s the only thing that makes sense. We have to be able to trace these entries, work backward and figure out when they were first put in the system.”