BLINDED (Elkridge Series Book 1)

by Lyz Kelley

  When Mara yawned and stretched, he gently set his computer on the coffee table. “I think it’s time to quit for today. We can look at this again in the morning.”

  Luckily she agreed. He wouldn’t sleep. Not with her in the next room. At least he’d have something to keep his mind occupied.

  “Let’s find you some towels.” He moved to the door of the first bedroom that had been transformed into Sam’s office. “I know there’s another set in here somewhere…found them.” He grabbed the stack off the closet shelf before moving to the master bedroom. “I can offer you an oversized T-shirt and some sweats, but they’re Sam’s, so they’ll be a bit big.”

  Her face turned a bit pale, and he pondered the reason. “Is there anything Buddy needs?”

  “No, he usually sleeps on the floor next to me, so he should be fine.”

  “If you want to take a shower my shampoo’s on the edge of the tub.”

  “I’m fine,” she said, forcing a smile—a cheap imitation of the real deal.

  She stood at the end of the bed, holding the stack of towels, her lips pressed into a tight, flat line.

  He tapped on his thigh while he assessed the situation, wondering what she might be thinking. Coming up with nothing, he moved to the door. “I’m right outside if you need anything.”

  “Good night,” she murmured, barely loud enough to hear.

  He shut the door behind him, then walked to the couch where he slowly sank into the leather. Tension returned as he looked at the list of notes she’d helped him create. He had questions. Lots and lots of questions, but not about Sam’s death. Mostly centered on his feelings for the woman who fascinated him. The woman he shouldn’t start anything with because he had to leave, but still the woman he wanted to make love to and then wrap protectively in his arms for the rest of his life.

  If he could roll back time to when he was seventeen, he’d have done a lot of things differently. He could have taken her camping or rock climbing or put her on the back of his motorcycle and taken off on a road trip, just the two of them. So many should-have regrets.

  Movement behind the bedroom door made his mind wander. He closed his eyes and imagined her getting naked, her soft curves under his hands, her hair trailing across his chest.

  Squeezing his eyelids tight, he tried blocking the images, but thwarting his imagination didn’t work. Getting up, he completed the required activities to prepare for bed before settling in for the night. Staring at the ceiling, he watched the flicker of light from the potbelly stove dance on the open beams.

  Then he heard it.

  The creak of hinges that needed oil, and the soft shuffle of footsteps.

  He reached for the jeans just beyond his fingertips. Dammit.

  She appeared before him, his brother’s shirt ending mid-thigh. Her face, illuminated only by the light of the stove, gave her an angelic appearance. The dark silence made everything move in slow motion, like the moon rising in the night sky. She turned to go.

  “Mara?”

  She turned back and pointed toward the bedroom. “There’s no heat in the room. I can’t get warm.”

  Heat. Right. “I only have the extra blankets.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  “No. Not okay. You probably won’t sleep if you’re cold. We have two choices. We can sleep on the floor by the fireplace, or we can share blankets and body heat in the bedroom.”

  Bedroom. Please pick the bedroom.

  She crossed her arms, then uncrossed them. “Sleeping out here means one of us will have to stoke the fire every couple of hours, and I most likely won’t be able to walk in the morning. The pins and rods in my legs don’t take kindly to cold, hard floors.”

  Shattered legs. Right. “Then we’ll share the bed. Why don’t you get tucked under the covers while I grab the bedding?”

  She hesitated for the longest second. He held his breath. Don’t change your mind. Please, don’t. When she turned and walked back into the room, air whooshed from his chest.

  Oh, man. He rubbed his head, trying to wrap his mind around what had just happened. You can do this. Just stay in control.

  He launched vertically and reached for his jeans, pulled them on, then gathered the bedding into his arms. The moonlight through the open bedroom drapes allowed him to see a lump on the far side of the bed. He spread the covers over her and then walked to the dresser on the opposite side of the room, letting excitement fill his limbs. Opening the first drawer, he felt the contents, then opened the next and then the next. When he closed the final drawer, he took a frustrated breath.

  “Is there a problem?” A small voice came from the bed.

  “Just an underwear problem.” The awkwardness got stuck in his throat, and he worked to clear the uneasiness. “I haven’t owned boxers or briefs since I turned twenty.”

  She sat up with the sheets tucked under her arms. The moon reflected off her naked skin. “Do you mind if I ask another question?”

  “What’s your question?”

  “Is there a reason you don’t want to have sex with me?”

  His brain forgot to send the signal to breathe, being way too preoccupied with hoping he hadn’t misheard her.

  “I just figured with me leaving, you wouldn’t…well, you know…that sex wasn’t a possibility.”

  “Gaccione. When are you going to stop thinking? Seems you’ve been thinking for a long time now, and your brain’s conclusions don’t appear to be working for you.”

  He choked off a laugh. “You might be right,” he said, praying for two things. One, she wouldn’t change her mind—because evidently—he’d turned into a dumb-ass. Two, the three-pack of condoms was still in the bottom of his shaving kit. “Question for you. Are you sure about this?” He hated asking, but he wanted to make sure she had no doubts.

  “I’ve missed out on a lot of things in my life. Not attending a high school dance because no one asked. Not finishing college because I needed to learn to walk again. I don’t want to also miss out on things because I’m afraid. You’re going to leave. I get that, even though I wish you wouldn’t because Elkridge could use someone with your talents. That aside, this might be our last chance. I would hate to always wonder.”

  “Wonder what it would have been like?” he asked, hearing the lust in his voice.

  “Something like that.”

  Her response added heat to the room, warming the air several degrees. The strongest woman he’d ever met made him look at his life differently. Maybe she didn’t put herself in front of bullets like some of the women he worked with, or compete in triathlons like others, but she could certainly bend him in half.

  “I don’t want to have to wonder, either. Just give me a minute.” Because I require several to screw my head on straight.

  He turned toward the bathroom to search his shaving kit. Mara’s moonlit image made his testosterone levels shoot straight off the charts. He’d been dreaming about this day for years.

  The air in the room crackled with excitement. After a long minute, he let out a calming whoosh of breath. She wanted him—the boy from the wrong side of the river. He didn’t need to prove anything to her. Never had. Even today, the only barriers between them were ones he’d erected.

  Today, all he needed to be was the guy who didn’t care that she was blind.

  And honestly? Her being blind didn’t matter one damn bit.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Mara laid back and pulled the covers to her chin, the boldness from the prior moment dissipating.

  What am I doing? Satisfying my curiosity? Grabbing an opportunity? Being stupid?

  The ruckus coming from the bathroom gave the impression Joey was deconstructing the room in search of something. She would have laughed herself silly if the situation hadn’t turned so serious.

  “Sounds like you’re dismantling the bathroom,” she said to lighten the tension.

  “I’m just looking for something,” his hesitant voice responded. “Have you changed your mind?”
>
  No. Yes. Well, maybe. “It’s just that it’s been a long time, and…”

  “Yeah, years for me, too.”

  “Really?”

  “I’ve been waiting years to make love to you.” His voice was quiet, like he wanted to share a precious secret.

  “Oh, God. Now I have to live up to your fantasy of what you think intimacy will be like?”

  A shiver started at her core and moved outward. That’s just great. I’ll just shiver to get warm.

  When the bed dipped, the courage she so frantically held onto slipped from her fingers. Bashfulness extended its claws and made her want to scramble out of the other side of the bed. The longing to feel a man’s touch—this man’s touch—made her stay. Her skin tingled with anticipation. She needed to know there was at least one man out there who still found her attractive.

  Night air ran across her body as he lifted the bedcovers to slide closer. Next came the blast of his body heat.

  “Come here, Mara. Let me warm you.”

  He touched her arm, and she moved to his side, growing more adventurous, wrapping her leg and arm around his body, snuggling as close as she could without lying on top of him.

  He flinched. “Jesus, woman. Your feet and nose are like ice cubes.” He quickly tucked the extra layers of bedding around them.

  His nakedness set off a fresh wave of shivers. She treasured each movement of muscle, each heartbeat, the rise and fall of his chest with each breath. Just thinking about what he might do next brought her close to an orgasm—a rare treat.

  But the thought of the real thing, him inside her, made her body explode with a renewed curiosity and clench with longing.

  His hands moved up and down her spine, massaging and stimulating.

  “I should tell you I have lots of scars,” she warned.

  He turned his head, his day-old beard scraping across her forehead. “Why do guys think of scars as badges of honor, and women regard them as marks of shame? That’s always confused me.”

  Good question. Why did she?

  At least she could walk, even if a bit stiffly, and she could still get out of bed and function. Her doctors considered it a miracle.

  “There are very few people in my life who don’t make me feel like a cripple. Thank you for being one of them.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “Maybe you should just stop caring what other people think. Besides, they’re probably jealous.”

  A skeptical puff of breath blew into the night air. “Jealous?”

  “You’re beautiful, smart, talented. Yep, jealous. You’ve built a life for yourself. A good life. That’s more than a lot of people can say.”

  The thrum of his heartbeat pounded in her ear while memories of her past clicked by, a slide show of events—College…the crash…therapy—until there was only darkness. The struggle. He’d missed the journey, only seeing the end result. If that’s what he saw, then possibly she hadn’t done so bad.

  “I’ve come to love my life here,” she murmured. “That’s why I hate this constant strain. People are starting to feel scared. Watchful. I wish Sam hadn’t been elected sheriff.”

  A quick intake of air suggested she’d startled him. “Why? People say he was good at his job.”

  “He was. But if he hadn’t been sheriff first, then you might not be so resistant to running for the open position. Being compared to and constantly measured against your brother must be tough. I know you have a job in Seattle, but you’re not happy there. Your tone, and the words you used to describe your work gives me the impression your job is not fulfilling. You talk about people depending on you, the team, but not once have you said you like your job. People depend on you here, too. You could make a difference if you didn’t look at is as taking Sam’s position.”

  “True. But being a detective and being sheriff are two different jobs.”

  “Misdemeanors and felonies are different as well. I’m asking you to look at the true reason you’re not considering the job.”

  Joey rubbed her frozen extremities with his hands and feet when she curled in to find warmth. “I’ll think about it.”

  She relaxed her fisted fingers and let them expand over his pecs. He had a runner’s body, hard and lean and gloriously perfect in almost every way. She detected the residual fragrance of baked apple. The delicious combination of apple and masculinity made her want to continue breathing in, never exhaling. Never letting the addicting smell escape.

  “Are you getting warm?”

  Blazing. “Yes, thank you,” she gasped, insecurity making her hold her breath.

  Joey released a long, shaky breath of his own and shifted slightly. “Your nose still feels like a hailstone.” His fingers closed around her nose, and he gently rubbed his fingers and thumb over her skin to increase circulation.

  The wind picked up outside, and the pines brushed against the window with a constant tap-tap-tap. As her limbs warmed, her body grew heavy. A screech made her flinch.

  “Easy.” Joey’s arm instantly pulled her closer. “It was just an owl. You’re safe.” His quiet, whispered breath brushed like silk across her neck.

  She closed her eyes to sweep away the activities of the day and let the heat emanating from Joey’s inviting body cocoon her in contentment. The light touch of his hand rhythmically circling and soothing pulled her into a carefree state.

  “Joey?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Are you ready to practice some more?”

  “I’m more than ready. I’m going to show you how beautiful you are.”

  The breath she’d been holding slowly emptied from her lungs. She leaned in and kissed him slowly, methodically, making sure she would remember every moment.

  “Joey, I want you to know, I understand there are no certainties in life. If we do this, there will be no strings holding you here. The next few hours will be about two people indulging in a curiosity. That’s all. But you need to agree. When you leave for Seattle, I don’t want you looking back. You need to look forward. Toward your future.”

  She waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. He only pulled her in closer.

  “I’ll accept your terms for now, but I will be coming back. Whatever this is between us will not end here, today. I want you to know that, Mara.” His voice was gruff and filled with need.

  “Then no regrets?”

  “Only one. That I didn’t come home sooner.”

  God, she was stunning. Joey kissed her, deep and hot with a passion to demonstrate she wasn’t a temporary woman in his life. He wanted to make her feel what he felt. The joy. The euphoria. If he could stretch the night into eternity, he would. When he pulled back, he studied the circus of expressions dancing across her face.

  “That’s more like it, Gaccione.” Her smile expanded. “Keep on practicing. You’ll get there.”

  A groan and a semi-laugh escaped. He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled, lifting onto his elbow.

  How was he ever going to get on that damn plane?

  “Joey, why are you quiet?”

  He nuzzled her neck. “I’m concentrating. I want to make sure I get this right.”

  Her teasing smile broadened. “I’m not looking for perfect. I told you practice is not a bad thing.” There was a slight trace of humor in her voice, but he suspected she didn’t find the situation amusing.

  “I want to take my time,” he said, lifting the edges of her t-shirt.

  She made a low, incoherent sound in her throat, fluffing the covers enough to allow her hand to touch skin. When her cold fingers touched him, a shiver racked his body, not from the cold, but from the sizzling heat of her touch.

  “In a hurry?” he asked, leaning closer to connect with her skin.

  “Yes,” she whispered, letting the word elongate into a hiss. Her exhale made his body sing.

  His willpower to hold off sagged. “Slow down. We have time.”

  “No, we don’t.”

  Time. She had a point. The sands of the ho
urglass were draining away, and he couldn’t stop them. He pressed his hand against her heart to feel the beat and connect to her rhythm and her to his.

  “You’re so beautiful.” He cupped her jaw and pulled her to him. “I need you. I need this.”

  Her body relaxed beneath his. Her hand rested on his hip.

  Inch by inch by inch, he revealed her skin. He let his hands skim over the soft surface, feeling each muscle respond to his touch. Bunching her shirt, he indulged, scattering kisses here and there before working his way past her belly. His fingers slid over the delicate lace of her waistband. He skimmed a finger along the silky fabric, diving deeper and deeper with each caress. She shifted and reached toward the sensation. Her reaction made him search further to find every sweet spot.

  “What are you waiting for?” she asked.

  “You’re just going to have to wait to find out,” he teased.

  She made a choking sound and pressed her hands against the covers, where his full erection clamored for a connection. “I can already see.” she murmured.

  He dropped his head, kissing and licking the skin just above her waistband.

  “Patience,” he admonished lightly and began working to release the barrier of her underwear, rolling the fabric down her hips. Tossing her panties to the floor, he went to work on her top, but she was already reaching for him, sliding her hand along his rigid skin.

  “Teach me something new,” she demanded.

  “My pleasure.”

  Her impatient fingers reached and circled around him, stroking and pulling.

  “Slow down, Mara,” he gasped against the artery pounding in her neck, while he tugged her head back gently with a fistful of her hair.

  She growled and centered his hips over hers, refusing to be deterred. He reached for the condoms he’d placed on her dresser, lifted to his knees, and slid the protection in place because he wanted to protect her, love her and keep her safe.

  She lifted her hips to close the distance between their bodies.

  “Pleeeease, Joey. Don’t make me wait any longer.”