This man does things to me that even science can’t explain.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
LUKE
I kiss Ella’s nose and pull out of her, cleaning myself up and pulling on my clothes. I reach into my pocket and pull out a strip of cloth. “Wear this,” I say to her.
She laughs. “On what?”
“Your eyes. I want you to be surprised,” I say.
She reaches down to pick up her bra and panties. I shake my head. “Leave them,” I whisper to her. “You don’t need them and I want to stare at you in my pickup truck while you’re only wearing a skirt and a thin tank top.”
Ella blushes and I know I’ve completed my work. She slips her high heels on and grabs the blindfold. “Fine, but I’m not putting it on until we’re at your truck.” We walk through the clinic and she shuts the lights off, locking the door behind her.
She keeps her end of the bargain and ties up her vision for the entire car ride. When we get to my house, I help her out of the truck, stopping to kiss her.
“I think we’ll need that blindfold for later,” she replies, grinning.
I take her hand and lead her around the back of the house. Everything is just as I left it. I push her forward and tell her to open her eyes. She slips off the fabric and gasps. “When did you build that?”
It’s a pergola that I’ve been putting together in my garage for weeks. I’ve painted it white, and lights hang from the center of it. I’ve spread out a picnic in the middle of the octagonal space. Ella runs forward and then turns around. “It’s just like the movie,” she whispers to me like a giddy child. “Just like The Sound of Music.”
I grin at her. “That was the idea, Liesl,” I say, holding out my hand and twirling her around.
“Don’t make me sing the song,” she says.
I shake my head. “If I get enough alcohol into you, you’ll be singing Sixteen Going on Seventeen without a single prompt from me. I know you well enough to know that.”
An hour later, stuffed to the gills with the gnocchi and sauce that I made especially for her, we lay on the picnic blanket and gaze up at the twinkling lights above us. “You have no idea how embarrassed I was driving into Ft. Worth and asking where to find twinkle lights.”
Ella laughs. “I’ll bet you were.” She pushes herself up on her elbow and kisses me. She tastes like cinnamon. A second later, she has a serious look come across her face. “What happened with your leg? Was it…something to do with a kid?”
I feel my heart beating rapidly and my breath momentarily stolen from me. “Why do you say that?”
She traces her fingers across one of my tattoos. “The way you reacted the day after the tornado…I just assumed. When you saw that little boy you sort of shut down.” She stops her tracing. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.”
I take a deep breath. “We were supposed to be doing a routine patrol. There were kids playing up ahead of us. Then suddenly IEDs were flying out of nowhere towards us. I was looking right at this little boy. Couldn’t have been more than five. I just always think that if I wasn’t there, he wouldn’t be dead. If the war weren’t happening, he wouldn’t be dead. If we hadn’t been patrolling, if we hadn’t been this glaring target, he wouldn’t be dead. I watched him bleed out. And I couldn’t help him. Because I couldn’t walk.” Tears sting at my eyes and I wipe one away before Ella can see it.
She takes my hand. “Do you want to hear about Eleanor?”
I turn to face her. “Eleanor?”
It’s Ella’s turn to look sad. “Our daughter. I named her. In the hospital. She was so, so tiny but they let me hold her in my arms for an hour. I knew she needed a name. I thought that was a nice one.”
I squeeze her hand as tears roll down her cheeks. “What did she look like?”
“Tiny. Green eyes. She looked like you. She had your nose and your fingers.” Ella gazes out and smiles. “I felt like you were there with me when I saw her. When I got to hold her.” The tears are coming hard and fast now. “She was so sweet, but she was just too small. I knew that she wanted to fight, but there was just no way. There was no way.” Ella collapses onto my chest and I breathe into her hair, holding onto her tight and letting her cry it out.
Soon enough, I’ve joined her. I can’t hold this in anymore.
We hold onto each other until we’re both dry. Ella tips her head up and kisses me slowly. I return the favor, entwining my fingers into her curly, auburn hair. She climbs on top of me and unzips my pants. “We don’t have a condom,” I whisper.
She slides herself onto me and leans over to kiss me softly. “It’s okay,” she says.
Earlier we were just fucking. This – this is different. This is love. This is connection.
Something is sewn back together between us. It’s like the poison of eleven years ago has finally been sucked out. It’s evaporated. What we build together between us is new.
It’s a beginning.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
ELLA
“I feel like I keep forgetting something but I don’t know what it is,” I say to Alexa, who is frantically baking peach pies for the silent auction. Her kitchen smells like pastry, butter, and cinnamon.
Alexa blows a strand of hair off of her flour-covered face. “That happens to me all the time. You’re just too busy, that’s all.”
Michael calls out from the front room. “Mom, I want more juice!”
“Come and get some yourself, then, I’m not your waitress!” she yells back congenially. “I only have thirty more pies to bake. That’s totally doable before tomorrow, right?”
I laugh and dip a clean spoon into the peach pie filling simmering gently on the stove. The sugary concoction pops and burbles soothingly.
“This is delicious, Alexa,” I say through a mouth of piping-hot peaches. “You’ll sell every single one of these.”
An alarm goes off on my phone and I groan.
“Time to meet with Amy?” she asks.
I nod and slide off the barstool. “Time to meet with Satan. That’s right.”
“Oh, she’s mellowed out a bit since high school. Give her a chance. Anybody who has to live with Michael deserves a bit of leniency I think.”
“I’m still not quite over the punch-toss at prom.”
“That was high school. Lots of things have changed since then. Just give-“
“Her a chance, I know,” I finish. “Alright, I’ll see you at the fundraiser tomorrow. Good luck with the pies!”
I ride my bike over to Buxwell Prep. The parking lot and adjacent field has been transformed into a fairground already. There’s a ferris wheel, bumper cars, booths filled with stuffed animals, and half a dozen food trucks. “Is this a county thing or did you invite the whole state?” I say to Tanya; she’s rushing around checking in on everybody.
“Very funny!” she calls back to me before racing toward the bumper cars. “Y’all have the liability forms signed, right?”
I wander over to the space that’s been assigned to me and Amy. She’s already setting up. I get closer and can already smell the alcohol emanating from her breath. It might even be leaking out of her pores it’s that strong.
“Can I help with that?” I ask reluctantly as Amy struggles to get the water hose under control. The pop-up tank is already set up.
“Better late than never, I guess,” Amy replies, handing me the hose and spraying my clothes with it. “Oops,” she says drunkenly, hiccupping as she apologizes.
“You alright?” I ask her. Her eyes are glassy.
“Just fine,” she says, stumbling.
I place the hose into the tank and walk over to her, grabbing her elbow. “You need to sit down. It’s boiling out here.” I lead her to the open tailgate of her black SUV. I call over to one of the students walking by. “Hey, I need two bottles of water.”
The kid nods and runs off. I turn back to Amy. “Amy. Amy. Did you drive here?”
Amy nods. “Michael didn’t want me to
but I didn’t let that stop me.” She burps in my face and I take a step back, grimacing.
“How many drinks have you had today?”
Amy giggles and hiccups again. “I dunno. Five. Five beers.”
I squint at her. “Only five beers?”
“And five margaritas. And three shots of tequila while I was making them,” she adds. “Just a little pick me up.” She hiccups again and her eyes look like they’re about to roll back in her head.
I catch her before she passes out. Her lips are purple. “Amy, Amy, I need you to stay with me,” I say assertively, slapping her face.
The kid’s returned with the icy water bottles, condensation dripping down the ribbed sides of the bottle. “Is she alright?” he asks, looking panicked.
“I need you to call 911. She has alcohol poisoning.” I roll Amy onto her side, propping her head with her arm in case she throws up before I can make her do it. I crawl into the back of the SUV and lift her up under her arms, pushing into her stomach. “I need you to be sick, Amy.”
Amy grumbles back.
I jiggle her up and down, forcing my hands into her ribcage. “Come on, Amy. Throw up. Come on.”
She does. Spectacularly. All over the interior of this SUV; the sale of which could likely pay off about a quarter of my student loans. I clean up her mouth and get her some water.
She’s crying. “I’m so embarrassed,” she slurs. “I’m so sorry.”
She looks pathetic, her permed blonde hair stuck to her sweaty forehead. For the first time ever, I actually feel sorry for Amy Waters. “It’s okay,” I say. “We’ve all been there.” That’s an exaggeration, but I want her to feel better.
“Michael’s leaving me,” she says, crying. “That’s why I was drinking today.”
I wave away the student who fetched the water; he’s still standing there in awe of the proceedings before him. He wanders away. “Good riddance,” I say to Amy.
She laughs. “I guess. I don’t know how I’ll survive without him.”
I squeeze her arm. “You might be surprised what losing two hundred pounds of philandering douchebag does to a person. I think you’ll be just fine.”
Amy hiccups again and throws a chipped-manicure hand over her mouth in embarrassment as the sirens approach.
“Sorry I can’t help with the rest of the booth!” she says as the paramedics push her into the back of the ambulance.
“Don’t worry about it,” I call back. “Just get better for tomorrow so I don’t have to run this thing by myself.”
“You’ve got a deal,” she says, giving me a thumbs-up.
***
“You’re not going to believe the day I had today,” I say to Luke as I walk into his nearly-renovated kitchen. The brand new oak cabinets are gleaming and the punched tin backsplash sparkles in the sun. I set my purse down on the butcher block countertops Luke assembled with his own hands. He’s rubbing mineral oil into them.
“Is that right?” he asks, not really listening.
“When you’re done polishing your new girlfriend, I’ll tell you,” I quip, opening the fridge and pulling out two Cokes for us.
“It’s just really important to keep her oiled up the first few days after installation,” Luke says, his tongue between his lips.
I sit down on the copper stools and open up my soda.
Luke finishes his polishing and stands up, walking over to me. “Now I can properly greet you,” he says with a smile, kissing me on the mouth.
“Okay, okay. My day. I want to tell you about my day today.”
“Shoot,” Luke says, grabbing the spare soda and opening it up.
“Amy Waters and I had a thing.”
Luke doesn’t react. “A thing?”
“We had a thing.”
He shakes his head. “Like, a sexy thing? Like a lesbian tryst thing?”
I laugh. “It’s weird hearing you use the word tryst and no, that’s not what I mean. I mean we were getting the booth set up, and she was a little, you know.” I mime knocking back a few glasses of liquor. “And I had to help her out.” I wave my hand in front of my face, not wanting to embarrass Amy or break confidentiality with her health. God knows Luke will hear about this from at least six other people. Probably before the day is over.
“Alright,” Luke says, sitting next to me.
“So…oh, I feel so guilty about telling you this.”
“But not guilty enough to stop yourself,” Luke says with a smile.
“Yeah, fair enough. Anyway, Amy says Michael’s leaving her.”
Luke shrugs. “Not much of a loss really.”
I nod. “That’s exactly what I told her.”
Luke suddenly shakes his head like he’s trying to wake up his brain. “Hang on a second - you and Amy? You and Amy were having a moment? Confiding in each other? Giving her advice? About life?”
I laugh and kiss him on the cheek. “Yeah, I told you it was a weird day for me.”
Luke whistles. “And you weren’t exaggerating or kidding.” He stands up and knocks twice on the kitchen counter. “I was thinking pizzas on the grill tonight.”
“Mmm, sounds delicious,” I reply. Luke gets to work and I get to watch him. It seems like a good deal. “I got the dunk tank all set up for tomorrow.”
“And the clinic was closed today, right?” Luke reaches into the fridge for bell peppers.
“Yep. Closed tomorrow, too.”
“It’s almost looking like you have two days off in a row,” Luke says. “Sorry we couldn’t get together earlier today.”
I shrug. “We spent a lot of quality time together yesterday I think.” My mind wanders back to us having sex in the gazebo. “But I won’t have time tomorrow, either. I need some alone time, just me and more patient files. You know, since someone interrupted my work yesterday.”
Luke kneads a ball of refrigerated dough with his hands and grins at me. “I like to think we got a lot of work done anyway. Just…a different kind of work. That’s all.”
“What is it that Tanya’s got you doing tomorrow?” I ask him.
“Just floating around and helping people as needed.”
I scoff. “How did you manage that easy job?”
“I’m the town golden boy, that’s how. Oh, and I also had to construct about eighteen different booths this year. But other than that, yeah. I got off pretty easy,” he says sarcastically.
“You don’t have to work with a partner, though.”
“That’s turning out pretty well for you anyway, isn’t it?” Luke asks. “I mean, you had some low expectations, granted.”
I take my hand and lower it dramatically to the floor. “Basement level expectations. Core of the earth expectations.” Luke joins me in laughing when my phone rings. “Hey,” I say, still laughing.
“Hey yourself,” Sam says. “What’s up?”
“Watching my dinner be made for me,” I reply.
Sam sighs. “By your war hero?”
I laugh. “That’s right.”
Luke furrows his brow. “Is she talking about me?”
“Only good things,” I mouth back, sliding off the stool and wandering into the construction zone of the living room.
“I’m calling because nobody’s seen Jason in a while,” Sam says slowly. “I wanted to know if you had.”
My stomach flips over and I have to lean against the sawhorse. “I haven’t seen him since the night Luke beat his face into a pile of ground meat.”
Sam exhales. “Yeah, that’s what I figured. I mean, he called in sick for a few days in a row and we all figured it was because he didn’t want to show his battered face. But I don’t know.”
“Maybe he’s getting rhinoplasty to fix his formerly perfect nose,” I say with a grimace. I try to keep my voice light and fail spectacularly.
“Maybe so. I’ll call around to a few places around here, see if anyone can give me some intel on it.”
“Why are you so invested, Sam?” I ask.
She
pauses for a few seconds too long. “I just have this weird feeling like I need to look into it. You follow your instincts when you feel like that, right?”
“Yeah. I do.”
“I gotta go. I don’t have a sexy man to make me dinner so I need to go round up some takeout or something,” Sam says. “Love you girl.”
“Love you too,” I reply, hanging up my phone. I meander into the kitchen where Luke is par baking the crusts in the oven and sautéing a pan of vegetables.
He doesn’t look up before he speaks. “He’s not in the area.”
I nearly drop my phone. “Excuse me?”
Luke picks up the frying pan and flips the vegetables in an expert motion. “Jason. He’s not in the area. He’s not in Ft. Worth, either.”
“You’ve been following him?” I ask, my mouth open.
“I’ve got some connections,” he replies cryptically.
“What kind of connections? What, are you in the mob now?”
Luke sets the pan down and lowers the heat. The smell of olive oil and fresh garlic fills the air in the kitchen. My stomach growls, but I’m not letting that stop my inquisition. “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”
I can’t tell if he’s kidding. “Tell me, Luke. I’m withholding sex until you tell me.”
Luke wanders around the bar and grabs my waist. “Is that right?”
My knees start to quiver and I feel my resolve weakening as he touches me. “That’s right.” I keep my legs shut and push him away. “Talk.”
Luke sighs. “When I left the Marines, I joined up with some people who let me work on commission.”
“Like a contractor thing?”
Luke nods. “Yeah, for about a year. They needed me to do some shit for them. That’s all I can say.”
“What kind of shit?”
Luke shakes his head and walks back to tend the pan of vegetables. “That’s all I can possibly tell you, alright? You can connect the dots. You’ve got that fancy doctor brain.”
I laugh. “So what you’re saying is that you’re Liam Neeson. And you know all these scary men with a very special set of skills.”
Rescue Me: A Bad Boy Military Romance Page 14