Acute Reactions

by Ruby Lang

  She peered inside. A photo album of his parents’ wedding. Some loose pictures. “This is you when you were a little kid,” she said, delighted. “I thought you said you couldn’t find these.”

  “I started looking through everything, finally, and I discovered them.”

  He pulled out a black and white photograph of a smiling young couple. “They seemed happy there, didn’t they? I figured we could put some up, of your family and mine. I also found this.”

  He took out a beautiful filigreed silver ring. “It was my mother’s engagement ring. It wasn’t the happiest marriage, but I look at it and I feel like it deserves a second chance. If you don’t want this engagement ring, it’s okay, I won’t be hurt.”

  She tried it on. It was a little big.

  “It would need to be cleaned, and resized, of course,” Ian said.

  “I love it,” Petra said serenely.

  They sat eating pizza. Ian eyed her with darkening intent. “Where are Helen and Sarah?” he asked, a little too casually.

  She tried to ignore the warmth that flooded her. “They’re right in the next room,” she said.

  He nodded and leaned into her. “How about happy pants?” he asked.

  “That might be the least clever name, yet,” she breathed, darting another glance at the door. “The absolute worst.”

  “Maybe so,” he said, reaching for her, “but happy pants make for happy endings.”

  About the Author

  Ruby Lang is the pen name of non-fiction and short fiction writer Mindy Hung. She is small, prim, and bespectacled. She enjoys running (slowly), reading (quickly), and ice cream (at any speed). She lives in New York with a small child and a medium-sized husband.

  Find Ruby at www.rubylangwrites.com and on Twitter @RubeLang.

  A Sneak Peek from Crimson Romance

  (From Her Soldier’s Touch by J.M. Stewart)

  “Welcome home, soldier.”

  Standing beside the empty baggage carousel at Phoenix’s Sky Harbor International Airport, U.S. Army Sergeant First Class Colten Taylor bit back a groan. All around him barely controlled chaos spun: people running to meet their connections, the whir of the baggage carousels, the chatter of quiet conversation and the occasional ring of a cell phone.

  Yet the world around him narrowed down to that voice. Soft and feminine, the voice behind him wound its way through his body and settled, warm and familiar, in the pit of his stomach. He clenched his fists as images and sensations bombarded his mind faster than he could stop them. Warm, silky skin sliding against his. The feel of her nails biting into his flesh as her body trembled beneath him. Her quiet, breathy moan.

  Colt let out a pent-up breath and forced his fists to unfurl, wishing he could do the same for the knot in his gut. He’d spent the last six years trying to rid himself of the torturous memories, trying to forget her, because he knew he should. For her sake. Yet three little words from her sweet, familiar voice made those memories roar to the surface all over again, tempting him with things he could never have.

  Taking a deep breath, he drew from years of combat training and shoved everything back down where it was supposed to be. Positive he had himself under control, he forced a poker face and turned, meeting a pair of familiar green eyes.

  “Rachel Madison.” The last time he’d seen her, she lay in bed beside him. Naked.

  “Hi, Colt.” She flashed a smile that didn’t match the nervous edge in her gaze.

  God, she had to be the best thing he’d seen in a long damn time. Soft and feminine without being brazen, her yellow dress did nothing but showcase her willowy body and long graceful limbs. Honey blonde hair he distinctly remembered falling to somewhere around the middle of her back was now up in a thick ponytail. The hairstyle gave him a view of her long, slender neck. He ached to bury his mouth there, to taste her skin again.

  He folded his arms across his chest, lest his hands gain a mind of their own and reach out to her.

  “Have to admit, you’re the last person I expected to see waiting for me.” Yeah, that wasn’t what he wanted to say to her, but it was the safest, by far.

  He must have imagined this moment a million times over the years, that he’d get off a plane to find her waiting for him. He’d always envisioned taking her in his arms and kissing the hell out of her. In that fantasy, she’d wrap her body around him as she welcomed him home. He’d tell her … too many damn things. Things he shouldn’t. Like how much he’d missed the sight of her and the soft, familiar ring of her voice.

  She shifted from one foot to the other. Her smile wobbled again only to brighten seconds later as she clasped her hands in front of her. “Heard you were retiring, and I thought someone should meet you at the airport.”

  Her statement and her over bright grin rang all kinds of false. He’d taken the coward’s way out the night they spent together and snuck out the next morning while she slept. By all rights, Rachel ought to be pissed at him, not standing in front of him like the Welcome Wagon.

  He raised a brow. “And you figured it ought to be you?”

  Her happy façade cracked, and Rachel jerked her head to the right, glaring at something on the other side of the long room. “I told him this was a bad idea.”

  Suspicion itched at the edges of his consciousness. So he was right. She wasn’t the Welcome Wagon.

  Colt narrowed his gaze on her. “He who?”

  “Jake called me.” She sighed and turned to look at him, the stiff set of her shoulders softening. “He said he was supposed to pick you up, but something came up. He said no soldier wants to arrive home without someone to meet him and could I possibly do it. Said he’d owe me big if I could. I couldn’t say no.”

  Colt resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Ramirez. Figures.”

  Jake Ramirez had been his best friend for as long as he could remember. Colt couldn’t remember a time when Jake hadn’t lived down the street. Jake’s mother had practically adopted him and his younger brother, Paul.

  Rachel was right about one thing—coming back from a stint with nobody to meet him at the airport, having to watch his buddies meet their wives and girlfriends, could be damn lonely. But he’d spent twenty years in the United States Army, had been stationed all over the world and had gotten off a plane alone at least a thousand times. He was used to it, and Jake knew it. So, the question was, why was Rachel really here?

  For now, though, he’d play her game. “I called Jake a week ago and asked him to bring my truck to the airport. I’m going to assume it isn’t waiting for me in the parking lot.”

  She smiled. Again. This one wobbled, too. And her fluttering hands trembled as she alternated between clasping them together and running them down her skirt. “Nope. ’Fraid you’re stuck with my Camry.”

  For a moment, he could only stare and process. He’d come back to Phoenix for two reasons: to bury Paul and to get out from beneath the weight of his father’s house in Moon Valley.

  And to tell Rachel about Paul. Clearly, Jake had taken it upon himself to create the moment, but Colt wanted time. A few hours to figure out how to tell her and to prepare himself for the reaction that would follow.

  He hadn’t had time yet to fully comprehend his brother’s death. It wouldn’t be real until he saw the body at the funeral home, which was where he was headed as soon as he could pick up his truck. He wanted to see Paul one last time and he needed to make sure everything was set for the funeral. He hadn’t quite figured out how to deal with Paul’s death. The last of his blood was gone. Every single member of his family had been sent to an early, tragic grave. He was well and truly alone.

  Somehow, he had to open Pandora’s Box tonight and deal with the ramifications. Once again Paul had left him with a mess to clean up. He’d have to do it all while trying to keep up the boundaries with her, the one woman who’d gotten under his skin.

  Yet, looking at her, at those gorgeous green eyes, all he could see was the morning he left her, and the deep well of regret that had
built up over the years returned full force.

  “Go ahead. Let me have it. I know you’re dying to.” Colt braced himself for the tongue-lashing he damn well deserved and turned to look out the windows lining the far wall. As usual for May in Phoenix, the sky was clear and bright. “Because I know that excuse you fed me isn’t the reason you’re here. So spill it. Say what you came here to say.”

  One thing he knew about Rachel: she was fearless. When she was hot about something, she let you know. She’d never been afraid to stand up to the likes of him. The least he could do was allow her to get it out of her system. He owed it to her.

  “I expected more from you.”

  He jerked his gaze to hers. Of all the things he’d expected her to say, it wasn’t that. Despite the fierceness of her expression, pained accusation filled her eyes. The emotion cut him to the core as the confirmation he’d been waiting for hit him. He had hurt her, leaving her the way he had that morning.

  All his good intentions blew up in his face. He hadn’t meant to hurt her. They’d spent one night together. A moment of passion between two lonely souls. No more, no less. He shouldn’t have slept with her in the first place.

  She’d been a friend once, though, and he was an asshole for treating her the way he had.

  “Thought I was saving us a lot awkwardness I knew neither one of us wanted to face.” Yeah, that wasn’t what he wanted to tell her, either. He wanted to tell her he was sorry, but the words wouldn’t leave his mouth.

  Not that it mattered. He’d be gone soon anyway and out of her hair. If he was lucky, he’d be on his way to California, ready to look for a job in a mechanic’s shop, in less than a month. His time in the army was done, and he looked forward to the next phase of his life.

  He looked forward to never having to come back to Phoenix again. Despite having grown up here, his life wasn’t in this city. Never would be. The last thing he wanted to do was sit and wallow in pain, and that’s all that was left for him here. It was time to leave the past where it belonged. Hell, maybe he’d buy an RV and live on the damn beach.

  When Rachel didn’t give him the tongue lashing he expected, he turned to stare down the length of the long room, feigning indifference. The sooner she said what she’d clearly come to say, the sooner she could go. He’d have to face her sooner or later, but he couldn’t do it now. “You sure there’s nothing else you’d like to say me? I thought for sure ‘go to hell’ would be in there somewhere.”

  • • •

  Colt hadn’t changed a bit. She still had to tilt her head back to look up at him, and his metal identification tags still hung in their spot around his neck. As per his usual style while on leave, he wore a plain, stark-white T-shirt that clung to his upper torso like a second skin, and well-worn jeans that showcased long, muscular legs. His black hair was still cropped closed a la a military buzz cut.

  Years of experience told her his steel gray eyes revealed only what Colt wanted you to know. Right now, he’d put up a wall and the stiff set of his shoulders told her he had no intentions of letting her over it.

  What she’d expected, coming here, she didn’t know, but staring at the hardened expression on his face, all the mixed emotions she swore she’d gotten over years ago rushed to the surface. Anger bubbled up first, like hot lava waiting to spew forth from the mouth of the volcano. She held tight to it. Anger was safest by far.

  “All right. You want to know? I’m pissed at you. I wasn’t even worth a note on the damn counter.” Like everyone else in her life, he’d simply walked away and never came back. “Maybe it was stupid and naïve, but we’ve been friends for more than twenty years. I expected a little more respect from you, of all people, than sneaking out while I slept.”

  Waking up alone that morning six years ago hurt. More than she wanted. She hadn’t expected cards and flowers, but they’d connected that night, and she’d hoped, somehow, they’d part as the friends she’d thought they were.

  Colt turned his head and cocked a brow. “Is that it?”

  The same stony wall as always. The impassive expression on his face made her want to scream. Just to see him react to something. But Rachel held her tongue. No man was worth her anger, or her tears. And she’d wasted too many of both on him that morning six years ago. No, she’d come here for a reason and it had nothing to do with the night they’d spent together.

  “Look, I didn’t come here to play the blame game, Colt. It was six years ago. I’m over it.” She blew out a pent-up breath, releasing her anger along with it. “I came because we need to talk.”

  Colt needed to know he had a son. She’d kept the truth from him for … reasons that no longer made any sense. Because he’d walked out on her without looking back and hadn’t contacted her once. And she’d been hurt. But she’d been wrong to keep it from him. He deserved to know, and Greg deserved to know his father.

  Eyes too much like her son’s settled on her. Polished steel and so damned intense. For the next several heartbeats, he studied her. Then he pivoted toward her and dropped his arms. “You have something to tell me.”

  “Yes, but not here.” Telling a man he had a five-year-old son shouldn’t be done where they had an audience.

  The red light on the ceiling began to blink, announcing the luggage arrival, and Colt nodded, shifting his gaze to the carousel as it whirred to life beside them. People began to gather around. Colt shook his head slowly. “I’m going to have to remember to kill Jake. I have something I need to tell you, too, but I agree. I don’t want to do it here. Not in public.”

  His statement made her heart skid to a halt. Did he know about Greg? When she’d agreed to pick Colt up from the airport, Jake had promised to give her time to tell Colt the truth about their son. Had Jake gone back on that promise?

  When Colt didn’t say anything else, her heart resumed its beat. He was giving her the cold shoulder, no doubt his way of separating himself from their encounter six years ago, but otherwise, he wasn’t doing anything she might have expected when he found out about Greg. He wasn’t yelling or in her face. So, she flashed a hopeful smile.

  “Come over for dinner?” Yeah, okay, so the thought of being alone with him made her knees shake. It had all her girly bits taking notice, too. Colt Taylor still looked damn delicious.

  One eye flicked in her direction. “That’s fine. I’d like to go home and drop off my things. Then I have something I need to see to first.”

  • • •

  An hour later, after waiting for Colt’s baggage and making their way from the airport through the busy afternoon traffic, they finally arrived at his father’s house in Moon Valley. The house sat in one of the older sections of the city, a neighborhood full of houses from the fifties. The air was hot and dry, the sun high in the sky. Just her luck her air conditioner was broken. They drove with the windows down, the roar of the wind barely cooling her heated skin. The entire drive was all but silent. The car filled with an awkward tension that twisted her already nervous stomach into a tangled mess.

  When she finally pulled into the driveway in front of the worn little house and turned off the car, several more moments passed in silence. Her stomach lurched, threatening to bring her meager lunch back up, and her palms grew damp. Say something, anything! But the words she needed to say stuck in her throat. Somehow, “You have a son and I haven’t told you because I was pissed at you,” just didn’t roll off the tongue.

  Finally, Colt turned to her. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, only to shut it again. Instead, he flashed an awkward smile. “Thanks for the ride.”

  She returned the same awkward but polite smile. “You’re welcome.”

  He gave a curt nod then exited the car, moving to the rear. She pulled the lever to pop the trunk. He hefted two army green canvas bags out of the space, smiled again in the rearview mirror, and crossed the dry dirt that had once been a lawn. Halfway up the cement walkway that led to the small porch, he stopped.

  The two-story house had seen be
tter days. The dark blue paint had faded over the years, patches of it peeling from the weathered boards. One gutter had taken a nose dive, half lying on the ground, the other still attached to the roof. The roof had pieces torn, tiles missing in places.

  Colt set his bags on the ground and stood straight and tall, arms hanging limp at his sides, staring at the house. She couldn’t see his face, but the emotion weighing on him came through in the way his shoulders rounded as if the weight of the residence pressed down on him.

  Rachel closed her eyes, fighting the emotion rising to the surface. Just stay in the car. Put it reverse and go home. He walked out, remember? Just like dear ol’ dad. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

  Right?

  Opening her eyes, her heart twisted nonetheless. She’d come home from school with Paul enough times over the years to know the violence that happened in this house. She’d seen, too, the bruises left on both boys. The black eyes Colt ended up with. It hadn’t surprised her in the least that as soon as he and Paul hit eighteen, they’d left the house. Colt had left the city altogether, and he hadn’t come home much.

  She knew what it must represent for him to have to come back here now, knew firsthand the overbearing weight of standing in front of the one place you’d give anything not to have to return to.

  Damn her soft heart! With a quiet curse, Rachel reached for the handle and pushed the door open.

  She stopped beside him on the cracked sidewalk and reached out to him, to offer … she didn’t know what. Instead, she dropped the hand to her side. They would have to be friends, for the sake of their son, but it was better if she kept as much distance between them as possible.

  Still, the need to offer something rose strong in her chest.

  “You okay?” She stared at Colt’s profile. A telltale muscle ticked in his jaw, the only visible sign Colt Taylor wasn’t as aloof as he seemed.

  He turned his head, his expression hard, emotion hidden behind an impassive façade. The look so contradicted the man he’d been six years ago. He’d whispered sweet, hot nothings in her ear, while holding her so tight they’d all but become one. There wasn’t an inch of her his mouth hadn’t skimmed at some point, and she knew every spot on his body that made him let out a deep groan. They’d laughed and talked that night until sometime before dawn.