by Cindy Dees
He puffed out his chest and looked somewhat mollified.
“I left my purse in my car. Let me go get it, and then we’ll go in the back and have a look at the glass together.”
She moved away from the counter quickly, but tried hard not to look like she was fleeing. Which she totally was. Thankfully, Vinny had to go all the way around the far end of the L-shaped counter if he planned to follow her, and she made it out to the parking lot. She did run then, making for her car fast. She jumped inside and pulled out of the parking lot, holding her breath.
She’d been on the road about two minutes when her cell phone rang. She picked it up from where it sat in a cup holder and looked at the caller ID. Vinny Benson. Nope. Not answering it. She tossed the phone on the passenger seat and headed for home, scared out of her mind that she’d just been alone with a man who might actually be stalking her.
She pulled into her driveway, garaged her car and made her way to the house. Leaving the lights off, she sat in the dark of her living room, completely drained by the day’s events. If Brett were here, he would tell her to fight back. But she was just so tired of running from it all. She wanted everything to come out once and for all and to be done with her past for better or worse. Was that too much to ask?
* * *
Brett scowled at the interior of his cabin, irritated to be here alone, yet again. Anna was consistent in one thing, at least. She was a flight risk. When the going got bad, she could be counted on to run away.
What he didn’t know was what had scared her off this time. His mother said something about Joe Westlake stopping by early this morning, but he had yet to get in touch with his cousin to find out what the bastard said to Anna that sent her haring off back to town.
A knock on his cabin door had him jumping to his feet. He threw it open hopefully—“Willa. What brings you up here?”
“Do you have a minute to talk?”
“Yeah, Sure.” She was like a kid sister to him. Her father was a single parent and had worked long hours on the ranch while she was growing up. Miranda had just swept her into the family over the years. He did not need her to psychoanalyze him tonight, however.
She took off her coat and perched on the end of his sofa, noting the empty beer can on the floor at his end of the couch. He wasn’t going to apologize for drinking to deal with his frustration at Anna.
“I came to talk with you about Anna.”
Oh. ’kay. He hadn’t seen that one coming. “What about her?”
“Are you aware that she’s demonstrating classic symptoms of an abused spouse?”
“How so?” He’d certainly had his suspicions based on things she had let slip, but it was still a shock to have them confirmed.
“She apologizes for everything all the time, even things she’s not responsible for. She’s withdrawn in social situations with other people. She has zilch for self-esteem. She flinches when people move unexpectedly around her. I could go on, but you get the idea.”
“I could be accused of all those things,” he replied defensively.
“And you’re diagnosable, too. Except your behaviors are clearly a result of combat stress and post-traumatic stress.”
He scowled. God, he hated being psychoanalyzed. “Why are you pointing this stuff out to me? Are you trying to tell me I shouldn’t be in a relationship with her?” The notion actually started a slow burn of anger in the pit of his stomach.
“Not at all. I just wanted to make sure you were aware that you’ll need to cut her some slack. She will take longer to trust you than other women will, and she may never be as confident as you’d like her to be. Once she does trust you, she’ll be loyal to the death to you. It will be vital that you not betray her trust. That you’re there for her when she needs you.”
“I get all that. But tell me this, oh, almost shrink, almost sister of mine. What am I supposed to do when she runs away from me?”
“Let her go. But make sure to follow after her before too long. She needs to know you’ll be there for her no matter what she does that she can’t stop herself from doing. Her running is a form of self-defense, in the same way your drinking is.”
He huffed. “I’m doing a hell of a lot better than I was a few weeks ago.”
“I’m aware of that. I’ve been checking in with the liquor store to monitor your intake of alcohol, and it has gone down significantly.”
He stood up, glaring down at her. “Invasion of privacy much?”
She looked up at him unapologetically. “We love you, Brett. We’re not abandoning you any more than you’re going to abandon the woman you love.”
“That I—” He broke off. That he loved? He wasn’t in love with Anna... Was he?
Willa snorted. “You didn’t seriously think you could hide it from your mother or me, did you?”
“Leave me alone. And while you’re at it, keep your nose out of my business. If I still needed a shrink, I’d be in a military hospital somewhere.”
“The way I heard it, your shrinks sent you here to shake loose some suppressed memory,” she snapped.
He had to give her credit for doing her homework. “Since when did you grow such a spine, kid?”
“Since I started dealing with stubborn-jerk soldiers like you.”
He said affectionately, “Get out, Willa, and leave me to my sulking.”
“Go after her, Brett. She’s worth fighting for.”
“I’ve had too much to drink to get behind the wheel tonight. But I’ll drive into town tomorrow and see her.”
“Promise?”
He stood up and Willa stood with him. He gave her a warm hug and gently shoved her toward the door. She left, her laughter drifting back to him.
He fell onto the couch, staring in disbelief at Reggie, who thumped his tail on the floor without picking up his head. Aloud, Brett grumbled, “Love? Really? How the hell did that happen?”
Chapter 16
Anna had another rough day at the diner. Mona’s pals seemed to revel in coming in to make her life miserable. The good news was that Anna was simply too wiped out emotionally to care. She went through the motions of taking orders, serving food, and pouring drinks without feeling much of anything. Petunia even came out of the kitchen at one point to ask Anna if she was all right or wanted to leave early.
She plodded home, choosing to walk because it was a sunny day and her car, Fugly, had only a certain number of miles left in its old bones. The sun set behind the distant mountains in spectacular shades of orange and red, mauve and violet. She turned onto her sidewalk and frowned. Why were the lights on in her house?
She stopped, peering cautiously through the one remaining front window. Vinny hadn’t broken into her house had he? Or maybe Jimbo? She took a step backward, fumbling in her purse for her cell phone to call the police.
Her front door opened, and a tall male figure loomed, silhouetted by light spilling out onto her lawn. But she knew those shoulders. Recognized those narrow hips and muscular legs in tight jeans.
“Brett? What on Earth are you doing here?”
“Making you supper. It’s almost ready. Hungry?”
He had no idea. She’d been eating here and there at the diner, attempting to avoid spending any money on food that she didn’t have to. Paying her bills and keeping the electricity turned on was going to be more important for a while than mere food.
She climbed the front steps and smelled something cheesy and tomatoey. She swayed, dizzy with hunger as Brett took her coat from her shoulders and hung it on the coat tree. There was a table in her dining room! And it was set with china, silver, tall white candles, and white roses in a short vase between them.
“Where did that come from? I don’t have a dining room set!”
“You do now. I couldn’t very well serve you a romantic dinner on the floor, now, could I?”
She spied
a beautiful antique walnut hutch on the far wall, and ran her hand over the smoothly finished antique table and delicate lines of the matching chairs. She didn’t even want to know what it had cost. “Brett—”
He pressed his fingertips to her lips. “Don’t say it. I like to do nice things for you, and I have more money than I know what to do with. You’re only allowed to say, ‘Thank you. I accept.’”
She sighed, near tears over his kindness. “Thank you. I accept.”
“Sit down while I pour the wine. The salad is ready, and by the time we’re done with that, the lasagna will be out of the oven.”
“Good grief. I had no idea you can cook.”
“I can follow a recipe, and my mother is the best cook I’ve ever met. It’s her lasagna recipe.”
“Thank you, Miranda, wherever you are tonight,” Anna declared, lifting her wineglass.
“A toast,” Brett murmured. “To better times.”
Ha. Nothing but misery awaited her for the foreseeable future. Smiling wistfully, she let him clink his glass against hers. She sipped the wine, which was crisp and rich in flavor with bold undertones she couldn’t name. She was no expert at wine, but even she could tell this stuff was high quality.
The wine was so smooth that she finished a full glass of it before she barely realized she had. Brett refilled her glass and then left to bring in the dish of lasagna. It turned out to be as delicious as advertised, and she finished another glass of wine.
Determined not to get drunk and maudlin, she waved off a refill but did take seconds of the lasagna. Brett told her lighthearted stories of his days in basic training, and the dinner conversation involved a lot of laughter.
She pushed back her plate, stuffed. Brett did the same, smiling at her around the candles. “Why did you do all this, Brett? I keep being a total jerk and taking off every time you’re nice to me.”
He stood up and came over to her, holding his hand out to her. Perplexed, she laid her hand in his larger one. He led her into the living room, where he turned off all the lights but a single lamp and set his cell phone on a small stereo speaker. Sexy jazz music began to play.
“Is this a seduction?” she asked, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
“This is me telling you that I’m not going anywhere. I get that this...thing...between us scares the hell out of you. It scares me too, sometimes. But then I think about how you make me feel, and I know it’ll be okay.”
“You’re going to have to push my jaw shut for me,” she muttered. “I’m too speechless to do it myself.”
He leaned down and kissed her, a light, fleeting kiss that had her looping her arms around his shoulders. He swayed to the music, turning her around the room in a not quite dizzying glide. He paused, kissed her again, and then was swaying and turning again.
“What are you doing to me?” she whispered.
“Trying to convince you that maybe I’m worth sticking around for.”
She buried her face in his neck and inhaled the woodsy scent of his aftershave with relish. “You’re not the problem,” she mumbled. “I am.”
With a single finger under her chin, he raised her face and kissed her lightly. “There’s no need to hide from me. I think you’re perfect just the way you are.”
“But I’m not!”
“Hush, Anna. Tonight, there’s no outside world. There’s just the two of us. Just this room and the darkness, and the music, and whatever we create between us.”
God, that sounded so nice. One last night with him before he found out about the lawsuit and before she told him the whole truth—because God knew, she wasn’t going to make him hear it from her sitting on the witness stand. One last night where he thought she was worthy of him. One last moment of happiness before she stepped into the cold and silence and loneliness of her future. One last goodbye.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into him, loving the feel of his strong, hard body against hers. She felt his stomach muscles contract through the thin cotton of his dress shirt, and she saw the vein pounding in his neck under his jaw. It was such a turn-on to realize that she made his heart beat faster. That she caused that hard bulge behind his zipper.
His fingers were at the buttons of her blouse, and the fabric fell away from her collarbones, but instantly, his mouth replaced the cloth, sipping at the hollow there, kissing across her neck to her other shoulder. Another few buttons opened, and his kisses followed the swell of her breast downward into the valley between her breasts.
“You smell like vanilla,” he murmured. “I could smell you all night long.”
“You can if you’d like but I can think of better ways to spend the night,” she responded.
He chuckled against her flesh. “So can I, thank you very much.”
She pulled his shirt free of his belt and began to work on the buttons as her own shirt fell wide open. His hands cupped her breasts, and he stared down reverently at her chest. No man had ever looked at her like that before Brett. She carefully memorized the look in his eyes, tucking it away for the long years ahead.
She pushed his shirt open and leaned forward to kiss his chest. At her touch, his pectoral muscles jumped under his skin, and she memorized that along with the clean, masculine scent of him. A scent she would never, ever forget.
His hand slid around behind her ribs, and her bra fell loose around her. He pushed the lace aside and his mouth closed on the tip of her breast hungrily. His tongue swirled around the sensitive bud and she cried out, arching into him, offering herself up to him. Tonight, she would hold back nothing. If he wanted all of her, she was his for the taking.
And take her he did. After he finished stripping her naked, he swept his arm behind her knees and picked her up in his arms. He carried her over to her bed, which, surprise, surprise, was conveniently turned down already. He’d thought of everything, hadn’t he?
“You planned this out, didn’t you?” she accused as he stripped off his pants and socks and leaned down over her.
“Every detail of it,” he replied matter-of-factly.
Oh, my. “Well, then, what comes next?”
“I thought I might kiss you from head to toe and see if I can find all your ticklish spots. It’s important to know all of those so I can avoid them—or use them to my advantage.”
“You’re such a soldier,” she teased. “Looking for the enemy’s weaknesses.”
“Ah, but you’re not the enemy. And the idea is for both of us to win this war.”
She smiled up at him, but the smile faded from her face as she got a good look at the expression in his eyes. He was focused. Intent. But he was also laying his heart out to her tonight. It was all there in his eyes. And it humbled her to see him so invested in making her happy. She didn’t deserve him—
No. She wasn’t going to have such thoughts tonight. This was their own private world where nothing else mattered or intruded. Just the two of them and the love they made between them.
He did, indeed, discover all her ticklish spots and found a few she didn’t know she had. Who knew the inside of her ear was so ticklish, or the spot between her toes?
“Turnabout’s fair play, Mister,” she declared a little while later. “Where are you ticklish?”
He grinned at her as she knelt over him, her hair spilling over her shoulders. “I believe that’s for me to know and you to find out.”
“Challenge accepted, Brett Morgan.”
Within three minutes, she had him laughing helplessly and guarding his ribs from her with his elbows plastered to his sides. She pushed up on his chest with her hands. “It’s a good thing the bad guys never figured out how ticklish you are. They could have skipped all the guns and violence and just snuck into your tent and tickled you into submission.”
He smiled up at her. “I don’t let anyone know that my ribs are my personal kryptonit
e. I trust you’ll keep that little fact to yourself? I’d hate to have men working for me know my greatest weakness.”
“My lips are sealed,” she declared.
“I sincerely hope not,” he murmured, sitting up and wrapping her in his arms. I have plans for those lips that don’t involve them being closed.”
She ran her fingers through his thick, silky hair. “Show me?”
“Gladly.”
He rolled her onto her back and sank into her body. It felt like coming home. This was where she belonged. Joined to him in every possible way, moving to the easy rhythm of the music drifting around them. Smiling up at him as wonder filled his eyes, and then feeling the same wonder fill her gaze.
They fit perfectly. Physically, emotionally, even psychologically. They both had their burdens to bear, but they were perfectly suited to help one another. As the music from the living room built to a crescendo around them, so did their love. The pulsing bass rhythm became their flesh straining together. The soaring notes of the melody became her soul, breaking free and flying up, up, into infinity as he brought her such pleasure that it could not be contained. His entire body shuddered in her arms and she was right there with him, emptied and filled all at once, lifted out of herself but joined with him. In short, it was perfect.
And at the moment of climax when she cried out in exquisite pleasure, she heard him groan, “I love you, Anna.”
And it all came crashing down around her head.
* * *
Brett felt the exact moment when she ran away from him. Oh, her body still encased his throbbing erection, and her breasts still cushioned his heaving chest. But she left him, going to that place of private pain where she let nobody in.
He pushed her damp hair back off her face and stared down at her. “Look at me, Anna,” he said gently, but firmly.
She blinked and focused on him, coming back momentarily from her private hell. He spoke quickly before he lost her again. “I’m not going anywhere. I know you have big issues to work out. That you struggle to trust anyone. But no matter what, I’m not leaving you.”