by Lee Kilraine
The elevator clanged to a stop and Lu pulled her shirt back on over her head as the doors began their long, slow slide to free them. “Ha yourself. Besides, what would be the point? I’d bet money I wouldn’t have been your first kiss in an elevator?”
“I bet I was your first kiss in an elevator.” His smug grin needed to be wiped off that gorgeous face of his.
“No, sorry. But you were my first big mistake.” And she sailed out of the elevator, nodding her thanks to the gaping rescue crew waiting.
Chapter Twelve
“Oh yeah?” he called out after her.
“Oh, good comeback, Ty.”
Tynan stood outside on the front steps of the library, totally confused by both the woman and his own body. It wasn’t as if he was the one who kept starting this stuff with her. Quinn hit his shoulder to get his attention. “What?”
“What the heck was that?” His brother looked amused, but it was Quinn, and he’d keep it to himself.
On second thought, no—that was the old Quinn. Newly joined-at-the-hip Quinn would tell his fiancée, Delaney. Delaney wouldn’t gossip, though, but she’d wouldn’t be shy about telling him what she thought either. “That was two people stuck in a small, stuffy elevator for too long. That’s all it was.”
“Right. Are you sure everything is okay with you?” Quinn avoided his eyes, looking down at his feet and then up and down the street.
“Oh, I get it. Delaney said something to you, right?” Tynan walked over to lock up the front doors. Thank hell the workday was finally over. He bent over, grabbed up his tool belt from the ground, and rejoined Quinn. “Did she put you up to this?”
“Maybe.” Quinn shook his head. “Okay, yes, but she’s walked your same path, so she worries about you. I’ll tell her you’re fine and to lay off you. Hey, you want to go grab a beer after I get off shift?”
“Can’t tonight. I’ve got a thing I’ve got to do, but call me later in the week, okay?” They walked down the steps toward their vehicles at the curb. “I mean, unless this is the only night Delaney’s given you permission to go out.”
“You wait.” Quinn pointed at him. “Your turn will come.”
He threw his tool belt into the bed of his truck and slammed the lift gate home. “I’m like the wind. No woman can tie me down.”
“If by wind you mean gale force, I’d say that matches up with some story going around about you lately.” Quinn paused with one foot in his police cruiser. “Why don’t you slow down and relax a little? Could be your problem is you’re exhausted.”
“Why is everyone so concerned about my sex life? John Flaherty hasn’t had sex in decades and no one’s on his case.”
Quinn’s eyebrows rose. “That’s because he’s a priest, and most people call him Father Flaherty.”
“Right. Good point. Well, if a woman doesn’t have sex for months, it’s never her problem, it’s that she can’t find a good man.” He shrugged because if he told Quinn, or any of his brothers, that he’d given up sex while he went about proving he deserved his ticket out of Afghanistan, they’d kick his ass. “Maybe I just can’t find a good woman.”
“Uh-huh. Is that the story you’re going with? That you’re celibate until you can find a good woman? Because I can see that turning ugly real fast.” Quinn rested his arm on his open door. “Let’s see, all the single women, all the divorced women, and then there are the unmarried nieces of the blue-haired set. It might be easier if you just said you were gay.”
“If it’ll get people out of my business, go ahead and start spreading that around.” Tynan slid onto the seat of his truck and slammed the door shut. He usually could take all the ribbing people threw at him. But being stuck in an elevator with the sexy pixie had made him twitchy.
Damn. His trip into the woods couldn’t come soon enough. He glanced at his watch; he had an hour before he needed to be at the nursing home. Rather than run into Lu at the diner, he decided to head for the VFW for dinner. A perfect plan really, because Friday was meat loaf night at his parents’ house and his dad needed rescuing.
Meat loaf was the one meal his ma couldn’t make well, but she would never admit it. So whenever they could, his brothers would help sneak his dad off to eat at the VFW on Ma’s meat loaf night. It was amazing how many things broke and needed their dad’s help fixing on Friday nights.
He waited until he pulled into the parking lot of the VFW, hoping his dad would pick up as he pressed the button to call his parents’ house. All he needed to do was provide an excuse for his dad to leave—he knew to find him at the VFW, but he still preferred when his dad answered the phone so he didn’t have to lie to his ma.
“Hi, Ma. Is Dad around? What’s that?” Damn, the Grapevine had outdone themselves tonight. “No, I’m not gay. Ma, you and Dad are pretty open-minded. Don’t you think if I were gay I would have told you years ago?”
Tynan got out of his truck while his mom told him if there was anything—anything at all—he wanted to talk about, it was fine with her. “I’ll keep that in mind. Hey, would you just tell Dad my engine started misfiring and I could use his help looking under the hood? Yeah, right now. Thanks, Ma.”
He hung up and went into the VFW to wait for his dad. The VFW looked like a cross between a hunting lodge and a frat bar, if the frat bar was for old, crusty military types. Antler chandeliers hung over round tables in the center of the room. On one side, an old wooden bar ran the length of the room, the wall behind it covered in photos of old planes and unit patches. Pool tables sat over on the far side of the space, which were pretty quiet until the weekend arrived.
“Evening, Harry.” Tynan sat at the bar. “I’ll have a draft. And you can pull one for my dad in five minutes.”
“Sure thing, Tynan.” He filled the beer, topped it off, and slid it over to him. “Haven’t seen you around here lately. Although you’ve been starring in the daily Grapevine briefing.”
“So I’ve heard.” Tynan took a long swallow of his beer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“I’ve got just the thing for you.” Harry moved down to the end of his bar and lifted out a bottle so old that a cloud of dust puffed up when he blew on it. He used a bar towel to wipe the bottle down before pulling the cork out with a pop. Carefully pouring out a shot glass full, he placed it in front of Tynan and whispered, “Guaranteed to put some bow chicka in your wow wow.”
Tynan usually found alcohol had the opposite effect, but after being stuck in the elevator with Lu, he could use a shot. He lifted the glass to his lips and tossed it back all at once. Big mistake. Fire burned down his throat and blazed across his chest into his gut. Pretty sure if he opened his mouth he’d breathe flames. Argh. He pounded his fist on his chest twice, trying to get his lungs working again.
“Holy crap, Harry, what the hell was that?” He wiped at the sweat beading on his forehead.
“My special batch of moonshine.” He winked and started wiping down the bar where it looked like the moonshine had stripped off the finish. Although Tynan’s eyes were still watering so he couldn’t be sure. “Wait ’til it kicks in.”
“I’m already scared.” He took a drink of his beer, hoping to quell the burning sensation. Thank heaven his dad arrived just then so he could avoid another shot of Harry’s moonshine.
“Harry, I’ll take a beer.” Seamus Cates wrapped his arm around Tynan’s shoulders and gave him a squeeze. “Tonight you’re my favorite son. Your mother tried a new meat loaf recipe tonight, with olives and brewer’s yeast. The cat was throwing it up when I left.”
Harry slid the beer over and Tynan and his dad headed for the round tables in the middle section. It was early, so the usual crowd on fried catfish night hadn’t descended yet. Doc O’Brien and Sergeant Tony Rodriguez hailed them over.
“Seamus, we were waiting for you to show up.” Doc nodded his head to some of the empty chairs at the table. “Sit down. Sit down so Tynan can fill us in on the latest rumor.”
Oh hell. Tynan sank
into the chair next to his dad and across from Doc and Tony and signaled to Sarah for two of the catfish dinners.
“You know, Doc, there’s nothing new to say. I’ve got the ladies’ prayer group including me in their rosaries, Georgie baked me some magic-sex muffins, Lonny over at the tackle shop dangled some chicken feet over my head—said it was his ancestor’s black magic—and Harry just near about burned out my insides with his special-recipe moonshine, guaranteed to put the bow chicka back in my wow wow.”
“What does any of that have to do with being stuck in an elevator?”
What? Finally, one person in Climax who didn’t buy into the gossip. Hallelujah. He smiled across at Doc. “Nothing. Not a damn thing.”
And for the next half hour the men ate fried catfish and hush puppies while they talked over the pros and cons of cable versus hydraulic elevator systems. Tony was a former machinist, so he raised some good points Tynan could use if he had to present the options to the town council. And he would. Because now that the elevator had failed once, there was no putting off either an upgrade or a complete replacement.
Tynan looked around the table and took comfort in the company of these men. Men who might understand this growing burden of guilt. But maybe not, because he still remembered the bleak look in their eyes when he’d come home from the war two years ago. Maybe the answer was you just packed up the grief and guilt and carried it around with you the rest of your life, like an overloaded rucksack in the desert.
Tynan checked his watch and scraped his chair back from the table. “I’ve got to get going.”
“I’ll walk out with you.” Seamus pushed back too. “I’m heading home as well or Cecelia will be on to me.”
Doc stood and jerked his head at Tynan, motioning him over to the coat rack near the front door. “You remember the transition counseling on your way out of the Army?”
“Yes, sir.” He remembered. Acknowledge feelings, seek support, mourn, positive action.
“Best advice I ever got was after the mourning—you have to say good-bye. You have to let them go to move forward, Sergeant.” He reached out and squeezed Tynan’s shoulder.
Say good-bye. Yeah, he’d heard that, too, but hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it. Something to think about. “Thanks, Doc.”
They rejoined Tynan’s father by the front door as Doc pulled a folded piece of paper out of his wallet.
“Just in case the rumor is true.” He winked and tucked it into Tynan’s front chest pocket with a pat. “This will get you back swinging in the big leagues.”
Tynan shook his head and held open the front door for his dad, and they existed into the cool November air.
“This will pass, Ty.” His dad slapped him on the back. “You’re being a good sport, but then, you’ve always been able to handle anything that comes your way. But like your mother always says, it takes a strong man to be weak. I’m here anytime you want to talk.”
“I know.” His throat went tight, like a hand was slowly squeezing around it. “Good night.”
He and his dad did the man hug routine, then they walked off to their trucks, parked a few spots apart. He knew his dad was a smart man. A wise man even, who’d always been a great sounding board. He turned to him. “Hey, Dad . . .”
Their gazes locked, and Tynan was overwhelmed by the love in his dad’s eyes. His dad, who would gladly take on all his sons’ burdens if he could. But his dad had never lost four men in a firefight when he was sure his own heart was going to burst out of fear while everything exploded around him. Men who looked to him to lead them in and out of a mission safely. Men who trusted he would get them home, yet he’d failed them and their families. And he didn’t want his father to take on that burden.
“. . . You might want to shower in the garage when you get home. Or Ma will smell the fish on you.”
“Planning on it, son.”
Chapter Thirteen
The next afternoon Tynan looked around the library making a mental inventory of what needed attention. He and some of the crew were working a rare Saturday in order to ensure they were on schedule. All the subcontractors were lined up like dominos and ready to go the day after he returned from his hiking trip, so he needed everything ready for them.
He glanced back at the wall he was wrapping up. As soon as he moved the large header into place, he’d be done and preset for Monday. He looked around for Cash, who’d been up here working for the last few hours, just as he heard him and a few of the guys laughing from the stairwell as they headed out. “Anyone else still up here?”
“Just heading out, boss.” Lu stood at the top of the stairs.
“Hey, Lu! I could use a quick hand.” He motioned her over. “This will just take a minute.”
She froze with her foot poised over the top step, looked around, her shoulders sagging when she didn’t find anyone else. Reversing her steps, she moved slowly toward him.
What was up with her today? Pretty much the whole day she’d been jumpy and scurrying out of his way. Was it possible she was embarrassed about what had happened in the elevator the day before? Yes, because he sure as hell was still thinking about it.
“You know, Lu, what happens in the elevator stays in the elevator.” He wagged his eyebrows up and down at her, thinking she’d laugh.
She didn’t laugh. Her cheeks flushed a soft pink shade and her forehead got a little crease between her eyes.
“That was a joke.”
“No, it wasn’t. Jokes are funny.”
“You’re adorable when you’re mad, Lu.” This was the kind of comment that got drinks thrown in his face, but he felt a burning need to get some kind of reaction from Lu. Especially because he couldn’t stop his reaction to her.
“You do know women hate when men say that, right? I’m going to clue you in: It’s not something an enlightened male should say.”
He’d never been mistaken for an enlightened male in his life, but he didn’t think she’d appreciate hearing that. He never meant to be disrespectful; it was just that he usually blurted out what he was thinking. It had earned him lots of trips to the principal’s office as a kid. He’d gotten much better as he matured, but apparently he was still a work in progress.
“I apologize. If you could just help me with this? That’s it.”
She stared up into his eyes without a word. He could lose himself in those dark eyes for days. Her gaze moved down to his mouth and lingered until he felt the need to crush his mouth against hers. When she bit her plump bottom lip, he wondered if she was toying with him.
“Why do I feel like you’re baiting me?” He stepped close, placing his hands on either side of her against the wall. “If you’re trying to get me to kiss you again, I’m happy to oblige. But I’d rather you just ask.”
* * *
Lu had been avoiding Tynan all day. Because ever since the elevator—no, since the book club meeting—whenever she got within a few feet of him, she lost all self-control. He stepped so close she could smell the spearmint from his gum, the musty odor of drywall dust of his T-shirt. Her lips tingled at the thought of his lips against hers. Yes, dammit, she’d thought about that too-short kiss in the elevator, his lips firm and sure on hers.
“Is that what’s going on here, Lu?” He reached out his hand and stroked it down the side of her face, down her jawline, where he lifted her chin with his thumb. “Do you want me to kiss you, Lu?”
“Yes.” She shouldn’t want him to kiss her, but her body was failing her. He was making her feel things she hadn’t felt in over three years. And that thought scared her.
“Wait. You can’t!” She placed her palm against his chest. “You’re impotent!”
Tynan paused, pulling his head back until his intense gaze trapped hers. Her breath caught in her lungs at the heat in his eyes.
“You fell for the power of the penis. Many women do. Men, too, for that matter.”
“The power of the penis?” She meant to level him with a look of disgust, only he str
oked his hands, strong and callused from working with them, along her body. “Th-that can’t really be a thing.”
“Oh, it is. I used to believe it myself, when I was young and stupid.” His gaze trapped hers, held her prisoner. His voice dove deep inside her and turned her inside out. “When I was younger, and testosterone made many of my decisions for me, I used to think sex was the goal. Thank God for maturity. Maturity refines sex like a well-aged whiskey, giving it layers and depth beyond the act itself.
“Some people think sex is all about the penis. Not that knowing how to use it isn’t a good thing, but it’s not the only thing. One might say it’s just the tip . . . of making love. I don’t need my cock to make love to a woman. Not when I’ve got my mouth . . . my tongue . . . my lips and my hands. I have ten fingers to work with, and I like to work with all of them.”
A shiver raced down her spine and continued to her toes. Her mouth was suddenly dry. Probably because it had been hanging open listening to Tynan make love to her with his words. She licked her lips, trying to add back moisture, but that was hard to do when she was panting.
Especially when he proceeded to stroke his strong, calloused hands along her skin. Every part of her caught fire as he glided his hand across her collarbone, along her arm and the curve of her waist, down over her ass where he pulled her firmly into his body.
“Oh! You’re not impotent.” Her insides swirled like melted honey and a flush of heat surged through her body at the press of the hard ridge of penis against her abdomen. “At all.”
“No, I’m not.” He used his lips and his hands to kiss and nibble and touch her everywhere. Flicking open the buttons on her flannel work shirt one button at a time, he kissed and sipped all the sensitive spots along her neck.
Oh God, who had turned the heat up?
His fingers worked magic as he cupped her breasts through her athletic bra, making sure to slide his thumb back and forth across her peaked nipple.
“Aha.” She couldn’t think, let alone form actual words.