by Laura Kaye
She reached across the space that separated them and grasped his hand. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her chest aching for him, aching for the hurt and anger she could see in his eyes and his expression.
He looked her in the eyes. “You shouldn’t be the one apologizing, not when our bullshit ended up hurting you.”
“Easy, what happened to me wasn’t your fault. It was my father’s fault for getting involved with Church and not protecting me and Sara from the fallout.” And she wasn’t sure she could ever forgive him for that, either.
“Still, I’m really fucking sorry for what happened to you, Jenna. I wish . . . if I’d stayed with you . . .” He shook his head.
She squeezed his hand. “Hey, don’t torture yourself. You can’t ever know if a ‘what if’ is actually how things would’ve happened. You got me back. That’s all that matters.”
“Well, I’m kind of an expert in torturing myself.” He shrugged, and his expression was so sad it nearly broke her heart. “You’re a good person, Jenna Dean.”
“So are you,” she said.
A storm rolled in across his expression. “No, I’m not. I was, but . . .” His hand fisted around his napkin.
Jenna’s stomach twisted at the pain radiating off him. What would make him say such a thing? She pushed the tray out of the way and scooted closer, needing him to know, to believe. Taking his face in her hands, she forced him to look at her. “If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be here right now.”
“My team would’ve gotten you. It wasn’t just me,” he said, voice like gravel.
“But it was you, too. And you got rid of Confessions, right? That was all you. You’ll never know what a relief it is to know Sara will never have to go there again.” Jenna’s throat went tight. Slowly, carefully, she threaded her arms around his neck and hugged him. Under her touch, his muscles were rigid, bunched, braced. But then it was like he melted, and his arms came around her in return.
For a long moment, he held on tight, like she was his anchor in a storm. He was certainly hers. And then he pulled back enough to rest his forehead on her shoulder, the pain that had rolled off of him moments before replaced by a heavy weariness. She stroked the back of his head and neck, soft caresses meant to comfort. She loved holding this big man in her arms, loved knowing that maybe she wasn’t the only one in need of some comfort and protection and reassurance.
“Know what’ll make you feel better?” she said after a little while.
“You?”
Her heart literally panged in her chest at the sweetness of that single word. She kissed the side of his head, his super short hair tickling her lips. “Besides me.” Reaching out with her hand, she grabbed the milk-shake glass and her spoon. Easy sat up, an eyebrow arched as he looked between her and the ice cream. She scooped some onto the spoon and held it out to him. “Trust me.”
Skepticism plain on his face, he ate what she offered.
Jenna couldn’t keep from grinning at his lack of reaction. “You clearly need more. Here.”
He swallowed the second spoonful, too, but still wasn’t looking particularly better.
“This is a very serious case,” she said, playfulness plain in her tone. “Better make it a double this time.” The spoon nearly overflowed.
A smile played around the corners of Easy’s lips, and it filled her chest with a warm pressure. He ate it just before it dripped, humor creeping into his dark brown eyes.
“See? It’s working. I knew it.” She held the spoon out again.
This time, after he ate it, he stole the spoon right out of her fingers. “Problem is, you aren’t administering this medicine the proper way,” he said as he filled the spoon himself.
Jenna grinned again, happy to see some lightness returning to his expression. “I’m not?”
“Nope,” he said, shaking his head. “This is what will really help.” He held the spoon up to her lips.
“How will me taking it—”
“No questioning. Just obeying.” There was that cocked eyebrow again.
“Oh, is that how it is?” she asked, smirking. When he just stared at her, she gave in and ate the ice cream.
Next thing she knew, his lips were on hers. The kiss was as gentle as it was thrilling—because Easy was the one initiating this time. After he’d pulled back earlier and said it hadn’t been right, she wasn’t sure what to expect from him. If anything. But this was sweet and filled with such tenderness that it made the back of her eyes prickle. Avoiding the cut on her lip, Easy’s cool tongue slowly snaked over her lips and stroked at her tongue. He grasped the back of her head as he kissed and nibbled at her. The rich flavor of the chocolate combined with another taste that was all Easy and made her moan in appreciation. His grip tightened, his tongue stroked deeper, and a throaty groan spilled from his lips.
One more soft press of his lips against hers, and he pulled away.
Jenna was nearly panting, and very definitely wanting more. “You’re right,” she said panting, “that is much more effective.”
He gave a rare, open smile, and it made her happy to see it after how sad he’d seemed a few minutes before. “Told ya,” he said with a wink.
She nodded. “But, you know, that could’ve been a fluke. Just to be sure it really worked, maybe you should, um, give me another dose?”
Easy looked at her a long moment, then leaned in and scooped another spoonful from her nearly empty glass. He held it out to her, making her heart flutter in anticipation. When she tilted her head toward the spoon, he yanked it away and ate the ice cream himself.
“No fair,” Jenna sputtered, reaching for the spoon. “That is not what the doctor prescribed.”
Holding the spoon above his head put it out of Jenna’s reach, even with them sitting on the bed. She pushed to her knees, grabbed hold of his shoulder, and lunged for it. Laughing, he banded an arm around her lower back and held her in place, easily avoiding her grabs.
Jenna couldn’t stop laughing as they wrestled for the spoon. It was stupid and silly and childish . . . and exactly what she needed. And it seemed he did, too. It was perfect.
Wriggling out of his grasp she braced herself on his shoulders and tried to stand. Next thing she knew, he had her around the legs and took her down to the mattress in some sort of super-fast ninja move. She screamed and laughed, and he was laughing every bit as hard as he came down on top of her. And, oh God, his laughter was a sweet and sexy rumble that lit her up inside.
“You fight dirty, Easy,” she said around her chuckles.
His grin faded, but the humor hung on the edges of his full lips. “I haven’t had this much fun in so long.”
She caressed his face with her fingers. “Me neither. Between overloading on classes and my epilepsy, I often feel like a little old lady trapped in the body of a twenty-year-old. All I need is some cats.”
“Cats are kinda awesome,” he said. “When I was a kid, I used to sneak stray cats into the house, just for a night or two. I’d keep them in my room and bring up bowls of milk and cans of tuna for them.”
“Aw, you were a sweet little boy, weren’t you?” she asked, loving how he was opening up to her. The closeness, the sharing, the way his big body was lying on her legs and hips, leading him to prop his head up on her lower stomach—both her heart and her body reacted.
“Maybe for about five minutes.” He winked. “Mostly, I was a hell-raiser. Growing up, we didn’t live in the best neighborhood. Drug dealers on the corner, gang activity trying to pull in even the younger kids, crack house one block over. All that. Trouble wasn’t hard to find.” He shrugged. “Army straightened me out, though.”
“Well, we lived in a nice neighborhood growing up and here my father was the freaking drug dealer on the corner. Or close enough, anyway.” Jenna stared at the ceiling and shook her head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get serious.”
His thumb stroked along her side, sliding the cotton of her borrowed shirt against her skin in a way that almost tickled
. “Don’t apologize. Our histories are what they are, you know?”
She nodded and gave him a little smile. “Yeah.”
Shifting off her, Easy stretched out alongside her and propped his head up on his arm. “I’m thirty, Jenna,” he said out of nowhere.
And he was telling her this because? He thought their age difference was too great? He thought she was too young? He was worried she would think he was too old? Probably D) all of the above. Thing was, all she saw when she looked at Easy was a guy she really freaking liked. One who’d saved her life, helped make her sister safe, and gave her a sense of security she hadn’t felt in years. He was hot as hell, easy to talk to, and one of the kindest guys she’d ever known. Maybe some of that was because he was older. Who knew?
“And I need to know this because?” she asked, resting her head on her arm.
The muscles of his shoulders lifted into a shrug, but his face was contemplative. “Because there’s clearly something going on between us.”
Heat rushed across her body. There’d been plenty of evidence that the attraction wasn’t all on her side, but hearing him admit it out loud made her heart flutter and race. She held up a hand, and he laced his fingers between hers. “When I look at you, I don’t see a bunch of differences, Easy.”
“What do you see then?”
Warmth flooded into Jenna’s cheeks, and she chuckled. He’d said that she was beautiful, after all, so why couldn’t she give him a compliment in return? “A really hot guy I’d like to get to know more.”
A smug little smile slipped onto his face, and she might’ve rolled her eyes if it weren’t so damn sexy. “Really hot, huh?”
“Well, kinda hot, anyway.”
“Nuh-uh,” he said, tugging her hand to his chest. “Can’t take it back now.”
Cheeks burning and big smile threatening, she rolled onto her side to face him.
They lay there, side by side, her chest almost touching his, looking at each other. Tension and desire and anticipation crackled in the space between them, unleashing a flock of butterflies in Jenna’s stomach.
“What do you see when you look at me?” she whispered, half-afraid to ask but even more curious to hear what he’d say. Did he mostly see someone who was too young for him? Or a needy girl he’d had to save and babysit?
Easy squeezed her hand and tugged her closer. She sucked in a breath, sure he was going to kiss her. He did. Just not how she’d thought. His lips pressed to her forehead, then he pulled back to look her in the eye. “I see a woman who’s made me feel more alive in the past few days than I have in a long, long time.”
Chapter 7
AS HE LOOKED into Jenna’s eyes, Easy wasn’t sure what the hell he was doing. Or, as the hours passed by, what the right thing even was.
Because he was well versed in all the reasons he should be backing off. Problem was, Jenna Dean soothed a very jagged part of his soul. Actually, that wasn’t a problem at all.
She didn’t heal what was broken within him—he wasn’t that naïve or delusional. But she sure as fuck made him remember the man he’d once been. Made him see glimpses of that man within the person he was right now. And made him believe maybe he could become that man again. Hell, maybe he couldn’t ever go back. But something about her smile and her touch and her belief in him made him believe, too.
No matter what, he could be a better man than he’d been this last run of months.
But he’d have to reach for it, work for it, fight for it.
And Jenna provided one helluva motivation.
Right now? He wasn’t good enough for her. But maybe he could be.
“I think that’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me,” she said, voice thick with emotion.
Easy leaned in—
Knock, knock.
His eyes locked with Jenna’s, and they both gave a rueful smile and sat up.
“Come in,” she called.
Sara and Becca walked through the door. “How are you?” Sara asked.
“Hey,” Jenna said. “I’m okay.”
Sara’s gaze made a quick survey of the two of them. “Did you manage to eat something?”
Jenna tossed the napkin and placed the glass and spoon on the tray. “Yeah, and my stomach’s feeling fine. Better now, actually.” Easy was really glad to hear that because it probably meant whatever Bruno’s thugs had given her was working its way out of her system.
“Good,” Sara said, relief filling her expression. “Jenna, this is Becca.”
Scooting to the edge of the bed, Jenna gave a little wave. “Hi,” she said. “Sara said you helped me last night. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’m just glad you’re feeling better.” Becca smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear. Despite his anger toward her father, Easy had liked Becca from the night he’d met her. She’d helped break up a fight between Nick and Beckett, cleaned up Nick’s busted cheek, dressed them all down for their behavior, and earned Easy’s respect all in one fell swoop. And then there was that day on the boat when she’d apologized for what happened to him and his team and promised to help clear their names. Her words had reached inside his chest and removed a weight from his heart—because she was the first person to ever apologize, to ever believe, to ever offer to stand beside them and try to right the wrong that had been done.
Where he came from, that meant a lot.
“I thought Becca should take a look at you and make sure everything’s okay,” Sara said, shifting on her feet.
Jenna held out her hands. “Uh, Sara, I’m fine.” A pause as Jenna looked between the three of them, as if looking for backup. “Buuuut this will make you feel better, right?”
Sara chuckled and hugged herself. “I’m sorry, but you didn’t make me promise not to worry.”
With a big sigh, Jenna said, “Okay, but after this, you have to promise that, too.”
“Deal,” Sara said, smirking.
After seeing how much and how violently Jenna had been sick not all that many hours ago, Easy was sympathetic to Sara’s worrying. “I’ll clean up this stuff and give you all some privacy,” he said, reaching for the tray. He put the water bottles on the floor for later but gathered up everything else.
“Thanks for getting dinner for us, Easy,” Jenna said. She looked at him with such gratitude and affection that it both set off a warm pressure in his chest and made him self-conscious—because he was acutely aware that Sara was observing them. She had to know that something was going on. Given how little he thought of himself sometimes, it wasn’t a big leap to imagine others would think the same. Just because Sara had seemed appreciative that he’d helped Jenna didn’t mean she’d approve of anything more, especially after everything Jenna had been through.
“You know, you set off a milk-shake-making party,” Becca said.
Sara laughed. “Yeah. Shane made us shakes, then we took them over to the gym, and Nick was all jealous he didn’t have one.”
Grinning, Becca rolled her eyes. “Which was hilarious because he didn’t even know they owned a blender.”
Easy stood. “Well, I guess I’m glad I could provide such a valuable service.” He winked and looked at Jenna. “Need anything else while I’m downstairs?”
Smiling, she shook her head. “Don’t think so, but thanks.”
Easy made his way out of the room, through the night-darkened apartment, and back down to the Rixeys’, where he found all the guys in front of the big flat-screen TV—Nick and Marz kicking back in the recliners, Beckett and Shane sprawled on one couch, and Jeremy and Charlie on the other, with Eileen between them. It was dark in the room except for the flickering light of the screen.
A round of greetings rose to meet him.
“Sexual Chocolate!” Marz yelled over the others.
Easy couldn’t help but smile as his gaze settled on the television, where the classic Eddie Murphy movie Coming to America was playing. One of Easy’s all-time favorites. He placed the tray on the counter, then tur
ned and held his hands out. “Good morning, my neighbors!” he said, mimicking one of the prince’s lines.
Right on cue, Marz said in a thick New York accent, “Hey, fuck you!”
Easy could quote this movie all day. “Yes, yes! Fuck you, too!”
The guys all chuckled, and Easy leaned his butt against the arm of the couch next to Jeremy and got sucked into the movie.
“How’s Jenna doing?” Shane asked after a few minutes.
Easy nodded. “A lot better. She slept, she ate. Seems like the nausea’s over.”
“Glad to hear it,” Shane said, just as everyone burst out laughing at the movie.
Nick laced his hands behind his head. “Hey, wanted to let you know we got in touch with Louis Jackson. He’s on board.”
“Good,” Easy said. Part of him felt a little bad that the rest of them had apparently gotten at least some work done while he’d slept all day. But another part said that Jenna had needed him, and that was every bit as important.
Something popped into mind, and Easy looked at Marz. “Did you get a chance to look at the chip?” Before they’d teamed up with the Ravens and gone to rescue Jenna and intercept the Churchmen’s gun deal, they’d accidentally made a discovery—a tiny microchip hidden in the eye of a stuffed bear that Becca’s father had sent her before he died. Just one more in a long string of mysteries and questions.
Marz gestured to Charlie. “We worked on it for a while, but when we hit the stage of wanting to throw our computers out the window, we took a break. There are so many fucking layers of encryption and password protection on this thing, it ain’t funny.”
Charlie crossed his arms. “We’ll get it, though.”
“Believe it,” Marz said. “If either of us had access to our regular setups, we’d probably already have it. We did go through the pictures Sara took of Bruno’s files, though.”