“Thanks for the fuck, Maria. Time for you to go home now.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
What?
Maria struggled up from the sated sleep she’d fallen into after the most amazing hour of her life. What had he said?
“Hey,” she said, lifting herself up on her elbow and peering down at him. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
The gray dawn of morning gave enough light to see his face. Her heart sputtered at the cold in his eyes and the firm press of his lips. Lips that only a few minutes ago had explored every inch of her. How could he love her the way he just had and now look at her as if she were as repellent as a blood-sucking leech?
“I brought coffee and donuts. I thought we could watch the sun come up over the Gulf together. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a sunrise. I’m not a morning person, but you probably already knew that. Or maybe you didn’t.”
She was rambling—knew it and couldn’t stop. She didn’t exactly know what he’d just said, but her instincts screamed loud and clear that she didn’t want to hear it again. So, she kept talking.
“You probably like mornings. I brought coffee and some donuts.” Now she was repeating herself. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I got an assortment. I figured you’ve probably gone all macho . . . you know, living off the land, eating fish and who knows what. The coffee’s in a thermos, so it’s still hot.”
She trailed off and waited for him to say something. Anything. He said nothing, not a word. Nothing but a closed-off, cold stare. What had she done wrong? After he’d loved her so fiercely—so possessively—as if he’d desperately needed her, she’d thought everything between them would be okay.
The insecurity she thought she’d put aside returned. Had she been too shameless, too much like her mother? Acted like a whore? She had so little experience with men, and didn’t understand them. What she knew of them, she’d learned by spying on Lovey Dovey. It wasn’t until she’d seen the loving relationship Logan and Dani had that she’d started to yearn for that kind of love for herself.
Somewhere, she’d once read men wanted their wives to behave like their mothers, to be all prim and proper little women while their mistresses fulfilled their fantasies in bed. She’d dismissed it as rubbish, but now she wasn’t sure. Sex with him had been a little wild from the first, but tonight had been different and some kind of line had been crossed. She’d let go of the last of her inhibitions with him, and maybe he didn’t want a whore for a girlfriend.
“I’m sorry,” she said, although she wasn’t sure what she was apologizing for. That she was apologizing for unknown reasons stirred resentment.
“Go home, Maria.”
“Pardon?”
“You heard me. Time for you to go.” His gaze shifted to the door of the tent, as if he couldn’t bear to even look at her.
“Why? At least, tell me what I did wrong.” Now she was begging. Her resentment level rose. She felt like she’d been used, only to be tossed away. Maybe she should take a lesson from Lovey Dovey and charge him for her time.
“Nothing. You did nothing wrong. It’s just not going to work between us.”
Words tumbled one on top of the other to the tip of her tongue. Begging words, pleading words, hateful words. Maria swallowed every one of them and pushed off the mattress. She’d be damned if she would beg.
“Whatever,” she snapped as she snatched up her clothes. “Enjoy the coffee and Danish. They’re the last thing you’ll ever get from me.”
He finally looked at her but with eyes that had grown even colder, if that was possible. “I do appreciate the fuck. Saves me a trip out later to . . .” he trailed off, his gaze sliding away again.
“Bastard.” Naked, Maria ran to her car. Thank God no other campers were up to see the nude, crazy woman with tears streaming down her cheeks. After quickly pulling on her clothes, she started Sally and turned the Mustang for home.
By the time she reached Logan’s house, her heart hurt so badly she was blubbering like an idiot. How she made it home without crashing into a tree, she didn’t know. She sat in the driveway for fifteen minutes until she got her emotions under control. With only lingering hiccups, she slipped into the house. Before heading for her room, she detoured to the kitchen to get the pint of chocolate brownie ice cream she knew was in the freezer. She would eat her heartache away.
“You’ve been crying.”
Maria yelped and turned to glare at her brother. “Dammit, Logan. I hate it when you do that.”
Logan smirked. “Lurking’s what I do best.” His gaze fell on her neck and his demeanor turned hard. “Did he hurt you? I’ll kill him if he did.”
He probably would, too. She grabbed the ice cream and a spoon before sitting across from him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“He marked you. I warned him if he hurt you I’d make him sorry.”
She resisted the urge to slap her hand over her neck. “Jake didn’t do anything I didn’t want him to, so put away your gun.” She rolled her eyes. “I swear, why do men have to go all macho on me?”
“Maria.”
“Be quiet and let me drown my sorrows in a thousand calories of fat.”
Her brother proved he was a patient man by staying silent while she made her way through the container. Her preference would be to finish this pint off, then hide in her room to cry the day away. That he’d let her get away with that, she knew better than to expect.
Logan had been her protector from as far back as she could remember. He’d kept her safe from Lovey Dovey’s obvious resentment of her daughter, kept her out of the hands of men who’d turned unwanted attentions on her.
She’d once asked him why their mother hated her. “Because you’re prettier than her,” he’d said.
It had taken her years to understand, but eventually she had and it had been just another heartbreak in what appeared to be her destiny. The only person in her twenty-four years who’d never hurt her was Logan, the brother who wouldn’t let her leave the kitchen without telling him why she’d been crying.
Stuffed, she sighed and pushed the empty container away. If she told him everything Jake had said to her . . . well, she didn’t want to even imagine the consequences. “He said it wouldn’t work between us.” She managed to tell him that much without her voice betraying just how much she hurt, but she swallowed hard before she admitted her worst fear. “I think I acted too much like Lovey Dovey. You know, like a slut.” Crap. Under the table, she pinched her wrist in an effort to keep the tears away.
“Did he say that?”
The tone in his voice held a death threat. “No,” she hurriedly said. “It’s just what I think.”
Unable to meet her brother’s eyes, she pulled the container back and peered into it to see if she’d missed any bits of brownie. They’d both hated their mother, although Logan’s hatred had been far stronger than hers. Until now. That she’d acted like the whore her mother was brought on a rage for the woman Maria had never felt before. Until the day Lovey Dovey died, she’d always held on to the hope that the time would come when her mother would look at her with something that resembled love.
“And you think that because?”
He was starting to piss her off, and she loved him for it because he enabled her to get a handle on her raging emotions. “There are some things in my life I’ll just not discuss with you, brother of mine.”
Pushing her chair back from the table, she stood and kissed his cheek. “I love you.” She left before he could grill her any further. The humiliating way she’d come apart in Jake’s arms wasn’t open for discussion. Not to mention if she told Logan that she and Jake had had wild sex and then repeated Jake’s parting words, her brother would kill him for sure. If anyone was going to kill Jake, it was going to be her.
“You’re not like Lovey Dovey. Don’t ever think you are.”
&nbs
p; Logan’s parting call didn’t reassure her any. She was her mother’s daughter, and it only made sense that some of Lovey Dovey’s bad blood had contaminated hers. The way she saw it, she could go all out and turn whore like her mother or join a nunnery.
Whatever.
Christ, he really hated that word. Jake threw back the sheet and reached down to remove the condom. It was weightless, too weightless for how hard he’d come inside Maria. He held it up and watched the last few drops of semen fall onto his knee from the tear in the prophylactic.
“Shit.” He threw it across the tent, watched as it splatted on the canvas where it stuck, mocking him with all he’d lost.
What if he’d gotten her pregnant?
Falling back onto the air mattress, he pressed an arm over his eyes. Was there no end to the lives he screwed up? There was nothing he could do to return Tennessee to the living, but he didn’t know how to deal with the guilt and the mistakes he’d made.
If only he’d stepped onto the plane when he was supposed to. Yet, if he had it to do over, knowing Maria was in danger, he’d do the same thing again. So, where did that leave him? The only safe thing would have been to return to his old life, the one where nothing but the job mattered. There had been no risk of anyone or anything diverting his attention from a mission.
And now?
Peeking under his elbow, he stared at the condom as it slid down the tent’s wall. If they’d made a baby, that changed everything. His child would have a father. After his parting words, he doubted she wanted anything to do with him anymore. Because of his crudeness toward her, he didn’t blame her. If he’d realized the condom had torn, he’d have handled it differently, but at the time, he’d done it for her. He’d wanted to make her hate him, thinking it would be easier for her that way.
If she was pregnant, he’d have a truckload of groveling to do, but he deserved that and more. Should she point to the ground and order him to beg on his knees, he’d do it. For Maria, he’d do anything she asked.
The thought that they had possibly created a child settled in his heart, surprising him by how much he wanted it. And if they hadn’t? Then she was free to find happiness with someone who deserved her. His hands clinched with the need to grind whoever that man was to nothing but pulp.
It would be at least a month before he knew, so the question was, what would he do with his time until then? What should he do about Maria? Leave her alone until he knew if she was pregnant, or apologize and try to make things right just in case?
What if she was, but didn’t tell him? Or worse, what if he’d made her hate him enough that she couldn’t bear the thought of having his kid and got rid of it? Would she do that? Somehow, he didn’t believe she would have an abortion without telling him, but he should go talk to her immediately. Make sure she understood that if she was pregnant, he had a right to know.
Jake sat up, not sure what had awakened him. That he’d fallen asleep after Maria left just went to show how damn tired he was. Of everything. He reached for a pair of shorts and slipped them on. The tent flap flew open and two hundred pounds of muscles with a badass attitude tackled him to the ground.
“You son of a bitch. I warned you.”
Jake’s first instinct was to fight back, and he got in a good hit to Kincaid’s gut, grinning in satisfaction when an Oomph, rasped in the air between them. Then he dropped his arms to his sides and opened himself up to the assault. He had this coming and wouldn’t fight Maria’s brother.
“Damn you, you fucking shit. Fight me.”
Jake looked into eyes turned black by rage and shook his head. “Not gonna.”
Straddled above him, Kincaid grunted his displeasure just before he reared back his arm and swung a fisted hand right at Jake’s jaw—one he saw coming a mile away and did nothing to stop.
Someone was talking to him, but the fuzzy state surrounding Jake was just too comfortable for him to respond. A hard slap across his face had him rearing up and sputtering. “What the hell?”
“Get up you piece of shit.”
Jake blinked his eyes in an attempt to focus. As his vision cleared, he saw the boss crouched on the end of the air mattress, his arms braced on his knees.
“Feel better?” Jake asked and swiped his hand across his face. When he saw blood on his hand, he ran a finger around his teeth to make sure they were all still there. A ray of bright sunshine fell on his eyes through the open flap of the tent and he squinted. How long had he been out?
Kincaid grunted. “Not yet, but I will when you make things right with Maria. Which you’re gonna do today. When she cries, I’m not happy.”
He’d made her cry? Well, of course he had. What had he expected, that he could use her, then turn nasty and mean without hurting her? That she’d understand he was doing it for her?
“I did what I thought was best for her,” he said. Saying it aloud made it sound stupid. He’d have to think about that when his head cleared and he could think again.
“You’re an ass. Get up. Let’s go swimming.”
Oh, Christ, Kincaid was going to lure him into the Gulf and drown him. Jake narrowed his eyes. “Why?”
“Cause I’m hoping a shark’ll come along and eat you. C’mon, get your lazy ass up.”
The thirty-minute swim did the job of clearing the cobwebs Maria’s brother had planted in his head. Now, as he jogged down the beach alongside the boss, Jake began to feel like he was back in SEAL training.
Since he hadn’t been devoured by a great white, maybe Kincaid planned Jake’s demise by exhaustion. The man hadn’t said a word since they’d walked into the water. Unfortunately, it had given Jake plenty of time to think. Could be that had been the plan all along.
What if Maria was pregnant? What if she wasn’t? Did it make a difference? Either way, he loved her and, bottom line, nothing else mattered.
“Do you love her?”
Startled from his thoughts by the sudden break in silence, Jake stopped and braced his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. Was the boss a mind reader now? That was one hell of a scary thought.
“Your answer better be yes, or I really will kill you. And why are you breathing so hard? Christ, you’re a wuss,” Kincaid said. He turned, jogging back toward the campground.
“Asshole,” Jake called after him, straightening up and forcing his legs to start moving.
“Pussy.”
Jake gathered the last of his energy and put on a burst of speed, tackling Kincaid around his knees. “Those’re fighting words,” he rasped as they wrestled in the sand. He held his own until the boss called it a draw and Jake grinned. Damn, he’d needed a good fight to knock some sense back into his head.
“You’re grinning like an idiot, Tiger Toes. It better be because you love my sister and you finally realize how stupid you’re acting.” Playing dirty, he twisted up and dug a knee into Jake’s stomach.
“Uncle,” Jake gasped.
“I’ll interpret that as a yes to both, so you get to live another day.” Kincaid stood and offered a hand.
Jake gave the hand a wary eye before accepting help up. “I just knew you were going to do that,” he muttered when he was flipped through the air, landing belly down. Levering himself up, he brushed sand off his face.
“That detective called me last night. Fortunada wants to see her.”
What? “No. No way. He’s put her through enough already.” Kincaid obviously wasn’t any happier about this than he was, so why did it sound like he was considering it?
“It’s not our decision to make. She doesn’t know yet, and I don’t know how she’ll react when she does. Hopefully, she’ll tell him to go to hell.”
Jake wasn’t so sure. He’d seen the longing in her eyes when she’d talked about finding her father. If nothing else, she’d want to eliminate the bastard as a possibility.
“When you going to tell her?” He really should have killed the son of a bitch.
“As soon as you pack things up here and follow me home.”
He kicked a broken shell, sending it tumbling ahead of them. “That was my plan before you let that little bomb drop. I need to see her. Try to explain.” If that was possible. Preferably, he’d never have to talk about what happened in Egypt, but he had to tell her or she’d never understand why he’d been such as ass.
Kincaid lifted his head and watched a line of pelicans fly over. “It’s not easy to live with losing a man on your watch, but it’s too damn easy to blame yourself. The guilt’s a bitch.”
“I’ll be okay.” If he kept saying it, he might believe it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Maria hosed the suds off Sally, glancing up when Logan’s car turned into the driveway. She lifted her hand to wave, then dropped it when Jake pulled in behind him. Her first thought was to run inside and hide, but she’d never been a coward and wouldn’t start now. Besides, her Mustang still had soap on it and at the moment, she was fonder of it than Jake.
Why would her brother bring him here, anyway? If they had a meeting, Logan should’ve gone to K2. She went to the other side of her car, away from the sidewalk, and kept her gaze on Sally—or would have if her eyes had been kind enough to obey. Against her will, they insisted on peeking at Jake.
The way her heart pounded against her chest physically hurt. “Stupid heart,” she muttered. He’d go inside and be out of sight in a minute, and then maybe she could breathe again. Don’t let him see you’re even aware he’s here. Right, there was still some soap on the wheel and she’d look at that. She stared so hard at the chrome her eyes almost crossed.
“Chiquita?”
His voice sounded right behind her and she spun, hose in hand.
Someone Like Her (A K2 Team Novel) Page 23