by Lauren Dane
Of course he had a car that looked like a panther. Sleek. Powerful. Tinted windows. He escorted her to it and opened her door. When he closed it to go around to his side, all sound from outside was gone.
The seats were soft leather and it smelled a lot like he did. It wasn’t necessary but she put her sunglasses on anyway, trying to find some way to filter him out.
“I like the sunglasses.”
Of course he managed to sound suggestive. He drove calmly, but in charge. Easing into traffic like no one better get in his way. And really they didn’t.
“Are you warm enough?”
Despite it being late October, it felt a lot more like November. But she’d worn a sweater and brought her jacket and gloves.
Soon enough though, her seat got warm.
“Jeez, are these heated seats?” She tried not to sound like she’d just eaten an entire bowl of ice cream, but it made her languid. Spoiled like a cat.
“I like luxuries. We established that. So when can I get the next piece done on my back?”
“I like to wait at least two weeks between sessions. I’ll look at it the next time we’re naked to see how it’s coming along. But I want it healed before I do the next part.”
“I like how you made that fun.”
She rolled her eyes, relaxing a little when she realized he wasn’t going to push about her past.
“That’s me. More fun than a barrel of monkeys. Though, to be honest the idea of a barrel of monkeys doesn’t sound fun to me. It sounds like there’d be fleas and bites and shit involved.”
“I do think Raven fun is better than that, yes.”
“Who even thinks that stuff up? Monkeys in a barrel?”
She noted that his mouth quivered as he tried not to smile. It was a seriously sexy mouth.
“Who knows, darlin’. Maybe someone without any idea of what fun is?”
“Probably. Anyway, two weeks. Maybe three, depending on how you heal. Though I doubt your immune system would have the audacity to take more than two weeks.”
He chuckled. “And what exactly do you mean by that?”
“You know what I mean by that. I’m sure your immune system is just as stubborn as the rest of you is.”
“I come by it honestly, I’m told. My mother is just as bad.”
She snorted. She’d heard.
“I figured we’d head up around Snoqualmie. I saw a lot last year when Carrie and I went up. Work for you?”
“I’m just along for the ride. I wore shoes I could hike in, just in case.”
“Hm, a hike. After I wake up in a warm cabin and have hot sex with a willing woman covered in ink. But just as a general rule? Not gonna make you hike without telling you up front.”
“Good to know. I don’t camp much. I like hot showers too much to really get into it. Erin did con me into going to the Sleeping Lady a few years back. We’ve gone several more times. If it comes with a spa and gourmet food as well as some pretty swank accommodations, I can swing that.”
“I lived in the dorms my first year of college. I hated the communal showers. I hated wearing flip-flops.”
Imagining him in cheap flip-flops did a good job eroding her annoyance. “You lived in the dorms?”
“Don’t mock. My parents thought it would be a good experience. I met a shitload of girls. Lots of furtive, very quick fuck sessions before roommates came home. That was the good part. I got an apartment my second year when I worked at the firm part time.”
“I bet you met a lot of girls. I can’t even imagine the Jonah in his early twenties. Though, I do admit to the fairly overwhelming appeal of the Jonah in his forties. I like a man who knows what he’s about.”
“Good to know. I was more reckless then.”
“Who isn’t when they’re twenty?”
“I bet you weren’t.”
“I’m reckless now, Jonah. As for when I was twenty? I was in my own way. I was trying to figure out everything. Trying to raise myself, I suppose.”
“Trying to survive?”
“By the time I was twenty or so I knew I’d be all right. I had some skills that I could pay the rent with. I realized how much I loved to travel around that time, too.”
“Do you ever go back? To Happy Bend, I mean.”
“I went back once. For my great-grandmother’s funeral.”
“How old were you then?”
She licked her lips, trying to ignore the pain in her chest. “Twenty-three.”
“Do you still have family there?”
“I imagine so. I don’t have much contact with any of them. I hear from an aunt from time to time.”
“They never took you in?”
Erin had urged her to share more with people and she was usually right. So she’d give it a shot.
“Sometimes. They were dirt poor, most of them. The aunt I have contact with sometimes, she and my mother are sisters. Were sisters. Whatever. Anyway, she’s been plagued with health problems and a variety of addictions.” Like the rest. Alcoholics and crazy people. She came from such fine stock.
“I lived with her on and off until I was six. She went to jail a few times. Had to move from one run-down, piece-of-shit place to another.”
She shrugged but he took her hand, saying nothing.
“Don’t.” She pulled her hand back.
“Don’t what?”
“Pity me. I don’t need your pity.” It’s why she hated talking about any of it.
“I don’t pity you. I care about you. I can hear the pain in your voice. I offered comfort. It doesn’t make you weak to take it.”
“This is all easy for you to say. Academic even.”
“Is that what it is? Only people who’ve suffered like you can understand what it means?”
“Don’t be an asshole.”
“You already told me I was one. Don’t be a bitch.”
“I already told you I was one as well.”
“That must be why we work.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, staring out the window.
“Are you going to close off?”
“Back. Off.”
“No.”
She whipped her head to get a good look at this man she’d been so silly to think she could be with. Pushy!
“Just take me home.”
“You agreed to come spend the day with me.”
“That’s before you started being all pushy and nosy.”
“I was born pushy and nosy. Ask anyone. You knew that when you got in the car with me. You knew that when you opened your door to me this morning.”
“Look, this is . . . We’re just having some fun. You’re making it more than it is.”
It was his turn to snort. “Bullshit. Evasion is one thing. Lying is a whole different thing and, frankly, beneath you. This is far more than just some fun and you know it. If it was just fun you’d have told me to fuck off when I demanded your monogamy.”
“I should have.”
“But you didn’t. Because you know it’s more than just fun. It’s more and you can’t deny it. I won’t let you.”
“Why?”
“Because I like you. You’re nothing like anyone I’ve ever known before and that appeals to me a great deal.”
“Oh, so I’m your walk on the wild side then?”
“Fuck you. Fuck you, Raven, for thinking you can use that to keep me out.”
The slice of anger in his tone didn’t scare her. Well, it did, but not for her physical safety. Just her everything. It should have made her feel better, but instead, she knew it had been a tactical error. He wasn’t going to be scared off. He was too damned stubborn for that.
And maybe that’s why she’d done it. To test him. But he wasn’t a boy to play with. He was a man. A man who knew what he wanted.
“I have a life. Everything is in order. I like my schedule and how I live. And you come in and in less than a month you’re turning shit upside down and demanding I . . .”
“Share? Tell me abo
ut your life? How dare I? Is it that you think I’d judge you? That you don’t think you can trust me to keep your confidences?”
“Look, sometimes you say things and you can’t unsay them. You can’t unknow them.”
“But you already know them. They happened to you.” The anger was gone and his calm was back, laced with a kind of gentleness that tore at her.
“Living them was enough. I’ve spent most of my life trying to forget!” She slammed her fist into her thigh so hard she knew she’d have a bruise.
“Baby, maybe you shouldn’t. Maybe you should get it all out and slay those demons.”
The endearment nearly pushed her to frustrated tears.
“Which is so easy for you to say! You grew up with a family. You grew up knowing exactly where you’d sleep every single night. I bet your parents tucked you in. I didn’t even know that was a reality until I was fifteen years old.”
“It is easy for me to say. Certainly easier than for you. And yes, sometimes we got tucked in. Enough that I knew how important it was to tuck my own child in every night. What happened? When you were fifteen, I mean?”
“No. That’s not open for discussion.”
He froze. “Someone hurt you.”
“Lots of someones hurt me, Jonah. Don’t try to avenge me now. I’m past it.”
“No, you aren’t. Or you could talk about it.”
“Have you ever stopped to think, just once, that people don’t like to discuss unpleasant things?”
“Sure. But this is more than that. What happened to your mother?”
She blew out a breath. “She was a drug addict. She had me, dumped me on my grandmother, who was just as much of a mess as my mother was. So I got dumped on her mother.”
“So you never saw her? In your childhood?”
“A few times. She’d come to town, promise me she was better. She stayed with my great-grandmother too. Once she even rented us a house and had a job.”
Tears threatened and she clamped her lips tight, willing them back. Pushing the humiliation, the shame and disappointment as far away as she could.
He must have sensed it because he backed off. For a few minutes anyway.
“What’s your favorite food?”
“Pot roast.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. Why do you sound so surprised? Am I not allowed to like pot roast?”
“No.” He laughed. “God, you’re so fucking defensive about everything.”
“And yet you can’t get enough.”
He took her hand, pulling when she tried to snatch it back. He kissed her knuckles. “This is so goddamned true you have no idea. For what it’s worth, I like pot roast too. With roasted potatoes.”
“Hm.”
“That sound manages to be dismissive, annoyed, sexy and funny all at once. I even hear it when I’m not with you.”
“Part of my many charms.”
“They’re legion. My favorite food is tacos.”
“Really?”
“Now it’s my turn to ask why you sound so surprised.”
“You seem like a well-aged-steak-and-scotch sort of dude.”
“No denying the appeal of a good steak and some scotch. But tacos are something I can make. They’re portable. Most places manage to do them well if they’re on the menu.”
“The next time you go to L.A. I can tell you a few places I love.”
“You seem pretty fond of Los Angeles. Why did you come up here then?”
“Brody.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. At first anyway. I met him in L.A. through a mutual friend who does tattoos. I liked him immediately. I mean, what’s not to like? Anyway, then I met Erin and she and I hit it off. She lived in L.A. too. But I came up here a lot to see Brody. He took me under his wing, taught me a whole lot. I started working at his shop. Filling in here and there. He never tried to make me into something I wasn’t. He let me come and go.
“Plus, its cool here. And green and clean. Far, far from Happy Bend. I still go to Los Angeles at least once a year. But I suppose I’ve ended up calling Seattle my home. As much as I have a home anyway.”
“What went wrong with Brody?”
“He’s a good man. In the end he wanted something I couldn’t give. I told him that but he . . . I guess he expected better of me and I disappointed him. Hurt him. And then we were on and off. Truly, better as friends than we were as lovers. Elise came into the picture. God, I hated her at first. Well, that’s not entirely accurate. I didn’t really mind her at first. But once I saw he was really into her, that the thing between them was way more than just a flirtation, then I hated her.”
“Why?”
Raven laughed. “Have you seen Elise? She’s gorgeous. She’s perfect. A wonderful mother. She was—is—good to Brody. She’s what he needed in a way that I never had been.” She paused and then just said it. “Erin adores her. Adrian thought she was perfect. And my place there, I was—”
“Worried you’d lose them.”
It had taken a few weeks of some hard-core, unflinching introspection to get there. But she’d always credit Elise for it. “Yes. I was a bitch to Brody, tested his loyalty. She put me in my place one day. But it was that she was also kind to me even as she told me she would fight for him. She knew why. It . . . Anyway, I left town a while. Got my shit together, and when I came back, it was with my head on straight. I didn’t want Brody that way. He’s my friend and I wanted him happy. It took a while for me to get on the right track with Elise, but we’re good now.”
“You’re probably one of the most well-adjusted adults I’ve ever known.”
She burst out laughing. “Well, you’re a lawyer, so that explains a lot.”
“It takes guts to be truly introspective. To look at your actions and take responsibility for them. You own what you are, though you see yourself as more of a villain than you are. There’s an emotional maturity there.” He shrugged.
“I grew up around people who never took responsibility for anything. Ever. I vowed to not be like that. Sometimes I succeed.”
“I think you should take a shower with me.” He waggled his brows at her. They’d come back to his place after their day trip so he could shower and change for dinner.
“Hm.”
“There you go with that sound again.”
“I’m beginning to think you want to agitate me. It’s like foreplay.”
“Everything about you is foreplay, Raven. Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?”
“Hm.”
“So? Your clothes are here.” He’d convinced her to stop off at her place first to grab a change of clothes so they could leave directly from his place. But really it was that he wanted to watch her get ready.
“Let me look at your bathroom first.”
He pushed open the doors, gesturing her inside. When they’d been here before she’d used the one downstairs. Still a nice bathroom, but this one. Well, he was proud of this bathroom.
“Holy cow.” She turned in a slow circle once she’d gone inside.
“I like a long shower.”
“I should say so.”
His shower stall was quite large with benches on both sides and six showerheads. The bathtub was a modernized version of a clawfoot, only far larger and deeper.
“This is awesome. You can shower with me but only if you let me have some alone time with this place.”
“Should I be jealous of my bathroom?”
She turned to him. “Yes. You really should.”
She undressed and he leaned back against the counter to watch her fold each piece of clothing carefully. He was emotionally raw after their discussion on the way up. She’d revealed a side of herself that had brought all his protective instincts to the fore.
She’d been routinely neglected by the very people who should have protected her. That made him insanely angry. And he only knew a small bit of it. He understood that she had revealed a lot to him, but it was
just the tip of the story. Just the outline.
He wanted to gather her up and hold her until he’d made it better. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t slay her dragons. Not for what she’d survived.
He’d gone and fallen in love with her. He hadn’t meant to. God knew she was complicated and it hadn’t been that long that they’d been together. But he knew what he knew. She’d come into his life for a reason and this was it. She was meant to be his.
She got into his shower and bent to fiddle with the settings. He quickly disrobed to join her, sliding his body against hers.
“Back off. I’m not done yet.”
He should have known she was a superhot-shower type. He’d thought himself a lover of hot showers until her settings had nearly scalded his top two layers of skin off.
“Jesus!”
“There are three shower heads right there. All for you.”
“I thought you weren’t supposed to use really hot water on a tattoo.”
“You aren’t. But I’m a rebel.” She leaned back, groaning as the water rushed over her and he simply watched as the water cascaded over her curves.
“I’ll get your hair.”
He looked at her shampoo. “I thought I scented coconut.”
“I get it in Hawaii. I love the way it smells.”
Clearly she didn’t skimp on her cosmetics.
He poured it into his palm and then braved the water to slowly lather her up. She stretched against him like a cat. He massaged her scalp and she rewarded him with a soft sigh that shot straight to his cock.
He started to soap her body up but she smirked, stealing her washcloth back. “I’ll never get out of here if I let you wash my body.”
“Who says I want you out of here?”
She rolled her eyes but kept her distance. “Let me do this and I’ll get your hair. I can stand on the bench thing to reach.”
“Fine. But I’m fucking you when we get back tonight.”
“You can drop me at my place before you come back here. Not that I’m ruling out fucking.”
“Why won’t you spend the night?”
“I don’t spend the night. We already had this discussion.” She soaped up and he watched, his mouth watering as she ran her slick hands and the washcloth all over her skin. It was then he noted the scars.
He took her hand, turning her wrist to see her inner arm more clearly. “You did this?”