Imperfect: (McIntyre Security Bodyguard Series - Book 5)

by April Wilson

  I smile. “That would be wonderful. Thank you.”

  I unfold myself from Jamie’s cozy sofa and get to my feet to help him clear away our glasses and the empty popcorn bowl. Apparently, we both have a soft spot for buttery, salty popcorn.

  When we’re done cleaning up, Jamie comes up behind me and lays his hands on my shoulders, squeezing gently. His touch sends shivers down my spine.

  He kisses the back of my head. “It’s getting late. I’ll make up your bed.”

  * * *

  While Jamie takes Gus out for a late night potty break, I run back to my apartment to get my toiletries and some pajamas. I’m relieved to find Charlie waiting for me at the door – which lets me know the coast is clear. I reach down to pet him. “You’re such a good watch kitty, you know that?”

  Charlie responds with a plaintive meow.

  “Are you feeling neglected? Do you want to sleep over at Jamie’s too? I’ll ask him about it. Maybe you can come next time.”

  I placate Charlie with a handful of kitty treats. Then I take a moment to brush my hair and teeth, and wash my face.

  I grab my overnight bag and fill it with just the bare necessities… toothbrush, hairbrush, a change of clothes, and a T-shirt to sleep in.

  After petting Charlie one last time, I lock up my apartment and head back to Jamie’s place. Just as I reach his door, he and Gus come in the front entrance and jog up the stairs.

  “Got everything?” Jamie says, as he follows me into his apartment.

  “Yes.”

  He reaches out and touches my arm, then leans close to kiss my forehead. “Come. I’ll show you to your bed.”

  More slippery slope. Just friends don’t kiss each other, do they?

  Chapter 28

  Molly

  Jamie shows me to his bedroom, which is very neat and sparsely decorated. There’s a king-sized bed against the longest wall, with a night stand and lamp on each side. There’s a tall chest of drawers and a closet, and that’s it. There are no rugs, no mirrors, no decorations of any kind on the bare walls. I guess that’s to be expected. He can’t see them to appreciate them, so why bother?

  The bed is neatly made with crisp white sheets and a blue comforter. The bedding is turned down, and it looks very inviting with four pillows propped against the mahogany headboard.

  “I put out fresh sheets and pillowcases,” he says. “And there’s an extra blanket in the closet if you get cold. Please help yourself.”

  “It’s perfect.”

  “I’ll be right down the hall on the sofa. If you need anything in the night, just call for me. I’ll hear you.”

  “Are you sure you’ll be all right on the sofa?” I’m not sure it’s long enough to accommodate his six-foot-two height.

  “Molly, in the military I slept under shrubs in the desert in freezing temperatures. Trust me, the sofa is perfectly fine.”

  He starts to back out of the room, and I feel a sharp pang. I don’t want him to leave.

  “Jamie, wait!”

  He pauses, but says nothing.

  I’m selfish. I want him to sleep in here with me. Just sleep. Is that too unfair of me to ask?

  I’m tired of cuddling with spare pillows. I want to cuddle with him. I want to fall asleep in his arms. But cuddling might lead to touching, and touching might lead to exploring. And I’m not ready for that.

  “Molly?” he says, waiting patiently.

  “Never mind. Good night.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I’m just tired.”

  He sighs as he comes toward me. “You are such a terrible liar.”

  He reaches for me, and because I can’t stand it another moment, I slip my arms around his waist.

  He makes a rough sound deep in his throat, part pleasure and part pain. His arms tighten around me, drawing me close, and I can feel his lips in my hair. The heat of his body warms me, and the scent of him makes me want things I shouldn’t.

  “Why are you fighting this?” he murmurs against my temple. “I feel it. Surely you do too. This can’t be one-sided – please tell me it’s not. Life couldn’t be that cruel.”

  I swallow against the lump in my throat. “It’s not,” I breathe.

  “Oh, thank God.”

  And then he kisses me. Gently at first, tentatively, as if he expects me to push him away. But it’s late, and I’m tired of fighting my feelings. I need his comfort. When I kiss him back, it’s the green light he’s been waiting for.

  His mouth closes over mine, hungrily nudging my lips open and sealing our mouths together, mingling our breaths. When I stroke his tongue with mine, his arms tighten around me, and he kisses me with a sudden, raw hunger that sets my body on fire.

  When he finally breaks our kiss, he takes a step back, putting some distance between us. His chest is heaving. He runs his fingers through his hair and exhales heavily. “Damn. I was just going to give you a good-night kiss. I’m sorry, I got carried away.”

  “I’m not sorry.”

  “You’re not?”

  “No.”

  His brow furrows. “Molly, are you sure?”

  “I’m sure I want you to kiss me again.”

  He grins. “I can do that. Is that all you want from me? Kisses?”

  “Right now, yes. And I don’t want you to sleep on the sofa. I want you to sleep in here with me. Just sleep, though.”

  His nostrils flare as my words sink in. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right. I can do that.”

  He leaves me alone in his bedroom while he goes to the bathroom to get ready for bed. I hear the shower come on.

  I quickly strip out of my clothes and, leaving on my prosthetic bra, I pull on my sleep shirt. Then I turn off the lights and crawl into bed beneath the covers.

  While I’m waiting for him, I have time to think about all the reasons why I shouldn’t do this. We’ve already established we have a mutual attraction. He’s made it clear that he wants me, and I want him, so there’s very little to keep us apart. We’re both adults. We’re both single and unencumbered. What’s keeping me from taking a chance with him?

  A light knock on the open door announces his return. “Can I come in?”

  I smile. He’s such a gentleman. “Yes.”

  He walks into the room and heads for the foot of the bed. “Now’s your chance to change your mind. I promise, no sex. But I can’t promise I won’t hold you or kiss you.”

  I laugh. “That’s what I’m counting on… the holding and the kissing.”

  He climbs on the bed and crawls toward me, caging me in. It’s dark in the room, but there’s enough light coming through the curtains that I can see he’s wearing a pair of flannel PJ bottoms. His chest and arms are bare and just a foot above me. His chest is a work of art, muscles carved like stone. His shoulders are broad enough to block out the rest of the world, and those arms… his biceps. I can feel the heat of his body and smell him. He smells like soap and clean male skin.

  My belly clenches painfully. “You showered,” I say, feeling a little bit at a disadvantage.

  “Yeah. Just a quick one. I wanted to make a good first impression.”

  I laugh. “It’s a little late for first impressions, don’t you?”

  He smiles. “Okay. How about a first impression as a bed mate?”

  “Well, that’s true.” I run my fingers down the center of his chest, past his pectorals to his abdomen, which is nicely bisected with ridges of muscle, and he shivers. “You smell good.”

  He laughs. “Thanks. I’m glad you think so.” Then he drops his face to the crook of my neck and inhales. “You smell good too.”

  He kisses me then, just a gentle kiss, sort of a getting-to-know-you kiss. Then he drops down beside me, lying on his side to face me. His finger skims across my forehead and then down my nose to my lips. “So, tell me the ground rules for tonight,” he says.

  “Kissing and holding are okay. No sex.”

 
; He nods. “No sex. Got it. What about touching? Holding involves touching. Is that permissible?”

  “General touching is okay, the friendly type. But no genitals. No breasts.” Especially no breasts.

  “Gotcha. Touching is okay, but don’t touch the good parts. So, basically, we’re looking at a PG-13 sleepover. Is that right?”

  More laughter. “Yes. Basically.”

  “Okay. I can do that.”

  And then he leans close and kisses me, on the lips twice, very PG-13 type kisses. Then his lips travel across my cheek to behind my left ear, which makes me shiver. His lips travel down the side of my throat, to my shoulder, and he takes his sweet time kissing his way across my collar bone to the other side.

  I tense up when he lays his arm across my chest to pull me closer. His arm is laying right across my breasts, and I don’t know if he can tell they’re prosthetic or not. As sensitive as he is to touch, I’m afraid he can.

  “What’s wrong?” he says, pulling his arm back.

  “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. Just, we said no breasts, remember?”

  “I just laid my arm across your chest. Was that a violation?”

  “Yes.” Please don’t ask me why.

  “When you said no breasts, I assumed you meant no fondling, no copping a feel, not just don’t touch them at all.”

  “It was don’t-touch-them-at-all.”

  “Oh.”

  He sounds disappointed, and my heart starts pounding. Slippery slope, here we come.

  “Molly?”

  “Yes?” Please don’t ask.

  “What are you not telling me?”

  My heart begins to hammer painfully. Slippery slope. Please don’t ask.

  “Molly?”

  I swallow so hard even I can hear the tell-tale sound. “What?” I say, wincing at the break in my voice. This was such a huge mistake. What was I thinking?

  “Molly, just tell me,” he says. “Get it off your chest. God, sorry, that came out wrong. Pardon the pun.”

  My stomach sinks like a stone. He knows. He already knows. But how?

  I push him away and sit up, shoving back the covers and swinging my feet to the floor. “This was a mistake. I have to go.”

  “Wait!” he reaches out to grab me and ends up fisting the back of my nightgown. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to rush you. I was just hoping… since we’re alone and in bed…. Molly, talk to me, please. You don’t have to hide anything from me. I, of all people, understand.”

  He knows. I feel sick to my stomach. I try to stand up, but he’s still got a hold of my nightgown. “Jamie, please let me go.”

  “No.”

  “No?” I say, flabbergasted.

  “No. You need to talk to me. I know you’re scared, but you don’t have to be, and I’m not going to let this hang over our heads any longer, putting unnecessary distance between us. You’re too important to me.”

  “Unnecessary distance?”

  “Yes, unnecessary. Okay, if you won’t tell me, how about if I tell you what I think’s going on?”

  “Okay.” I know I sound defensive, but I can’t help it. “Go ahead, Mr. Know-It-All. Tell me what’s going on.”

  “It’s about your breasts.”

  I feel like he knocked the wind out of me, and I can barely breathe. “What about them?”

  “Did you have a mastectomy?”

  I’m shocked to hear him say the words. “How did you know?”

  “Molly, it’s okay. You can tell me.”

  “Yes, I did have a mastectomy. A double mastectomy, in fact. I was diagnosed with breast cancer two years ago, and I chose to have both breasts removed.”

  He sits up and reaches for my hand to pull me back onto the bed. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

  I’ve started down this path, so I might as well continue. The words rush out of me, strung together between shaky breaths. “And I opted not to have reconstruction, so my chest is flat. I don’t have breasts, I have scars. I wear a specially designed bra that includes prosthetic breast forms. Is that how you found out? Could you tell?”

  “It’s not obvious – ”

  “Could you tell?”

  “Yes. The other night, when we hugged, I could tell.”

  I let out a long, heavy breath. “And you didn’t say anything?”

  “I was waiting for you to tell me. When you were ready.”

  “I wasn’t ready to tell you tonight!” My throat tightens painfully. “You forced the issue.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  I tug on my hand. “Will you let go now? I want to go back to my apartment.”

  “Molly, please don’t go. You’ve had a traumatic day, and you promised me a sleepover. I’m going to hold you to it.”

  “You still want me to stay? Even after all this?”

  “After all what?”

  “You know what! My body is defective!” My voice just keeps climbing, but I can’t help myself. “I’m missing a couple of body parts that, as far as I can tell, most men think are pretty crucial to their happiness.”

  “I’m defective too,” he says, his voice gone quiet. “Besides, I’ve always considered myself more of an ass man. You do have an ass, right?”

  “Oh, my God!” I snort, nervous laughter overtaking me. “You are insane!”

  His voice turns serious. “Please don’t leave. Okay?”

  My laughter dies a quick death, and suddenly I feel exhausted. I honestly just want to crawl into bed, cuddle with Jamie, and pass out. “Okay.”

  He tugs me back down onto the mattress and pulls the covers over both of us. Then he rolls me on my side and spoons with me. His arm goes around my waist, and he draws me against him. To my surprise, I feel his erection prodding me from behind.

  “Sorry about that,” he says, drawing his hips back just a bit. “I can’t control that, so just ignore it and go to sleep.”

  I chuckle. I don’t know how he expects me to just fall asleep while he’s plastered to my body. How am I supposed to ignore the fact that we’re in bed together, both of us half undressed, both of us attracted to the other? Especially now the cat’s out of the bag, and Jamie doesn’t seem overly fazed by the news.

  Still, even though he knows about my surgery, it doesn’t change anything. He may think it’s okay in the short run, but surely he’d become dissatisfied in the long term. Once reality sets in – like it did for Todd – he’ll change his tune. And then I’ll have lost the budding friendship we have developed.

  He means too much to me as a friend to lose him. I like him. I don’t just have a crush on him, I like him. And I don’t have so many friends that I can afford to lose one. I have Chloe, yes, and she’s a wonderful friend, but I can’t really cuddle with her the way I’m doing now with Jamie.

  I lay my arm along the top of Jamie’s arm, and we link fingers.

  He squeezes my fingers. “Promise me you’ll never be afraid to tell me anything.”

  “I promise.” I can say that without qualms because he knows all of my secrets now. He knows about my crazy ex, and he knows about my surgery. There’s nothing else.

  Chapter 29

  Jamie

  Molly’s in my bed, finally asleep in my arms, and yet I’m not sure I’ve made any progress with her.

  It took her nearly an hour to fall asleep. She just couldn’t relax. At one point, I was tempted to offer her a glass of warm milk. All I could do for her during that time was be there for her and show her that it didn’t matter to me that she doesn’t have breasts. I imagine that would be a showstopper for some guys, sure. Apparently, it was for that asshole of an ex-husband of hers. But it’s not for me.

  After what I’ve been through, after losing my sight and learning how to live my life all over again, I’ve learned that it’s who people are at their core that matters – not their exterior packaging. Hell, I can’t see Molly – I have no idea what she looks like beyond a general description. But that’s not important to me. What’s important are t
he things that I do know about her… she’s intelligent, kind, artistic. And she’s courageous – God, is she courageous.

  And then there’s that intangible something about her that I find so attractive. When she speaks, my whole body lights up. I feel like I’ve finally come home after years of wandering. I can’t explain it, and I don’t question it. It just is.

  I’ve met a few women since my accident, and none of them had this kind of effect on me. I’d started to think I was incapable of desire, or even wanting someone in my life. Now it’s like my body has awakened from a deep sleep, and I’m starting to think about the future. I’m starting to think about wanting a wife, a family one day. And I want those things with Molly.

  She’s been through a lot herself, and she’s learning to cope with the curve balls life threw at her too. She’s been hurt, betrayed by the one person who was supposed to be her champion. Todd failed her, but I won’t. Now I just need to make her see that.

  I might have jumped the gun tonight by pushing her into telling me about her mastectomies, but I don’t regret it. Now that it’s out there, we can deal with her feelings and move forward. At least that’s my hope. I’m not giving up.

  I figured it out from a simple hug. The density of her breasts wasn’t quite right. I’d suspected for a while, but I didn’t say anything because I wanted her to tell me herself. I suspected her lack of breasts was the reason she was keeping me at arm’s length – at least one of the reasons. I already knew her concerns regarding her ex.

  I understand what it feels like to be defective… to be missing pieces of yourself that others take for granted. Sure, I’m self-conscious about my eyes. That’s why I always wear my glasses around other people. And I know she’s got to be self-conscious about her breasts.

  Frankly, the fact that she’s lost her breasts isn’t an issue for me. I mean sure, they’re nice to have. What red-blooded man doesn’t crave the pleasure of pillowing his head on a pair of soft breasts? But in the grand scheme of things, I’d rather have her without breasts than not have her at all. Now I just have to convince her of that.

  * * *

  I awake around six-thirty when I feel Molly begin to stir. I’ve learned to tell time in the early morning by the sound of the birds in the back courtyard. The birds are up just before sunrise, and they’re consistent as hell. I would confirm the time, but if I ask Siri, I’ll wake up Molly for sure. I don’t want to disturb her. I’m hoping if I lie really still, maybe she’ll fall back to sleep, and we can have a couple more hours in each other’s arms.