“At what?” she asked in confusion.
“Explaining my feelings. I try to say things and they come out all fucked up.” He looked at her, grateful that she stayed silent, giving him time to gather his words. “With my men, it’s fine. I’m comfortable in command. I plan, I strategize, I execute the mission. But emotions…it’s hard.”
Sighing, he looked into her blue eyes that seemed to see deep inside of him regardless of the barriers that he tried to erect. “I never meant that what we did was a mistake. Never. It was…” he searched for the right word and could only come up with, “special.”
Her eyes seemed to light at that word so he hoped he chose the right one. Again, she stayed still, allowing him time to think. He rubbed his coarse fingertips over her tiny hand, finding strength in the feel of her skin.
“I didn’t come here to seduce you. Or take you up against the wall, for fuck’s sake.”
She watched as his face twisted in a mix of anger and disgust. “Why did you come exactly, Tony?”
“Jennifer called Gabe to say that you were traveling alone toward a snow storm. And I just jumped up to come find you. I needed to make sure you were safe. I needed to make sure…nothing bad was happening.”
“You feel the need to rescue me all the time?” she asked, needing to understand his motives.
“Yes. No. Not really.” Running his hand over his face, he started over. “When I first saw you almost a year ago, I thought you were beautiful. But I assumed I’d never see you again. Then, when we had the same friends, I got to know you. You’re smart. Loyal. And dauntless when you’re trying to right a wrong.”
He looked down at their hands again, noticing that this time she was rubbing circles on his hands.
“I thought you didn’t like me,” she said shyly.
Giving her hand a gentle squeeze, he shook his head. “No, my problem was that I didn’t want to like you.”
He saw the look of confusion cross her beautiful face, and he struggled for the right words again. “There are things in my past…things that…well, made me not want to feel again. So whenever I saw you, I tried to force myself to not think about you. Stay away from you. I figured I was too fucked up for you, anyway.
“When you leaned into me when we found Charisse, as bad as that was for you…it felt right to me. You being in my arms. Leaning on me. Trusting in me. That felt right. I made a dumbass comment to Matt and Shane that I know you overheard and when I realized you had gone, I knew I hurt you. When you pushed me away after the funeral, I figured that I needed to stay away.
“But when Jennifer called, I didn’t over-think for once. I knew this was the place I wanted to be. I wanted to make sure you were safe. I wanted to be here in case you needed something. Or needed me. But what happened there?” he nodded toward the wall behind her. “That should have never happened. Not like that.”
Silence filled the room except for the crackling of the logs burning in the fireplace. Licking her lips, she pondered his words. Such a contradiction, I hardly know what to think. He acted like he didn’t like me, but he does. So what now? Just friends? Or more?
He watched her pink tongue moisten her lips and it was all he could do to not lean over and capture them, but he refused to lose control once again. He lifted his gaze to her eyes and once again saw uncertainty.
“I’m still fuckin’ this up, aren’t I?”
“I want to understand, Tony. Please help me understand why it was a mistake. Is it because you just want to be friends? Because you don’t want to want me?”
“Sherrie, you were a virgin. You should have had your first time in a bed with candlelight and someone taking their time to make sure you were ready and then have them go slow and easy.”
He focused on her eyes, cupping her face with his free hand, feeling the soft skin against his rough. “I wanted you. I’ve wanted you for a long time. I’m used to controlling everything about myself but one look at you, standing in your pajamas arguing with me had me lose control. I just went on emotion and took you against the wall.”
She lifted her hand as well and caressed his cheek, trusting the caramel eyes that had captured her a year ago.
“In a bed or up against a wall…I’ve wanted you,” she said.
“Can I ask you something really personal?”
“Tony, I think we’re way into something personal already,” she grinned.
“How is it that you are…were still a virgin? I mean someone like you?”
At that, the humor left her face and he wondered what he had said wrong.
“Someone like me?” she asked, pulling back from him. “What do you mean, Tony? A poor girl from the foster system? Or a cocktail waitress in a strip joint? Or just because my sister was a—”
“No,” he interjected. “No, none of that. I just meant… you know. Someone as beautiful as you. I can’t imagine that you haven’t had men dying to meet you.”
“Oh,” she said softly, her eyes going misty. “I guess, I was just holding out for a hero. And then I found him.”
“Baby, I’m no hero,” he admitted, a flash of regret passing through his eyes.
“You are to me,” she whispered.
Leaning in, he kissed her softly, promising himself to maintain control. Just then the water began to boil over and they both leapt up as he jogged into the kitchen. Turning down the stove eye, he placed the pasta in to cook. Looking over his shoulder at her standing at the kitchen entrance, he said, “I didn’t know when you might come out but I fixed some dinner.”
“It smells good,” she admitted, watching him pull the chicken out of the oven. Deciding that their serious talk was over for now and she could rest easy knowing they were friends, she found the plates and set the table. Several minutes later, they sat to dinner in companionable silence and he opened one of the bottles of wine she brought.
Eying the other bottles, he lifted his eyebrow at her in question. She could not help but giggle as she said, “I thought I might drown my sorrows in wine while I was here alone.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re not alone to drink all of this,” he quipped.
“Me too,” she added seriously.
Finishing their meal, she offered to clean up since he cooked. Tony stepped outside on the porch to see how the storm was progressing. While out, he made a quick call to Gabe to report that they had both made it and would be in touch when they could, knowing that Gabe would let the others know. His men were like that—all of one mind. Finding more wood piled on the corner of the porch, he brought several loads inside.
Kneeling as he placed more wood into the fire, he could feel her presence behind him. He saw her standing near the sofa, fingers nervously twisting the bottom of her sweatshirt. Hell, I’ve talked more to her in the past hour than I have to anyone in a year…and there’s still so much more to say. Turning back to the fire as the new wood began to catch with flames, he replaced the antique fire screen.
Standing, he faced her, knowing that she was still unsure of what his feelings were.
“What’s it like outside?” she asked quietly, as though trying to find something to say.
He chuckled. “Cold. Windy. And blowing in one helluva of a snow storm.”
Sucking her lips in, she glanced toward the dark window. “I was foolish to come here, wasn’t I?”
“I wouldn’t say foolish, but maybe unprepared. Honestly, honey? I kinda blame Mr. Marks for not checking the weather before offering you his cabin. He shoulda known that your mind wasn’t on looking at the news.”
“I think he was just worried about me. I did receive a text message from him and I let him know I got here safe.”
Nodding toward the sofa, he asked, “You want to sit by the fire for a little bit?”
Her face lit up with a smile and she moved to where she had been sitting before supper. He watched her smile and felt the piercing in his chest once again. Right over his heart. She moved gracefully, everything about her elegant. He did not know
how long he stood there just staring at her until she broke his trance.
“Tony? Are you going to sit too?”
Settling his large frame next to hers on the overstuffed cushions, he could not help but smile himself. It felt strange on his face. A smile. Jesus, when was the last time I really smiled? Her hand was resting on the sofa between them. Not too close to seem grasping, but available if he wanted to take her hand again. Small. Delicate. Beckoning.
He reached out and slid his fingers around hers. Just that connection felt right, as though he were beginning to see her as a life-line. Something to hold on to that was real. “Did you…understand what I was trying to say earlier? Before dinner. About us?”
Looking down at their clasped hands, she admitted, “I understand that you were avoiding me because you care for me but don’t feel like you should. And that you wished we hadn’t had sex up against the wal—”
“Not as your first time,” he interrupted. “Sherrie, I never lose control. If I lost control in the Special Forces, men could die. With my agency if I lose control, a mission can go wrong and others can get hurt.”
“So…,” she hesitated. “You’re not sorry we had sex, but sorry you lost control?”
“Yeah.”
“But Tony, sometimes life is about losing control. Giving into feelings. Going with your gut reaction. Not everything in life is going to be like a planned mission.”
Shaking his head, a sadness crossed his expression as he said, “I don’t like the feeling of not controlling things around me.” He looked up and continued, “We haven’t even touched on the part of me not using a condom. I swear I’m clean. I’ve got the papers to pro—”
“I trust you,” she said quickly, hating the turn of the conversation.
“Well, if you get pregnant you’ve got to tell me—”
“Stop, just stop,” she said, her anger beginning to rise. “I will not be your mission again. Poor little virgin gets pregnant and you have to rescue her one more fucking time!”
The silence stretched between them. She saw the shadows of the firelight flicker across his chiseled face. His demons still existed deep inside and until he could let go of them, she would never really have him to herself. I don’t mind you having a past, but if I can’t have all of you…
Several minutes passed, both lost in their thoughts. “What are you thinking?” he asked softly, both wanting and dreading her answer.
Licking her lips, she kept her gaze steady as she answered, “I’ve wanted you for a very long time. There’s so much about each other that we know and yet I’m sitting here thinking that we’re still such strangers.” With a final squeeze of his fingers, she stood, looking down on him. “I gave myself to you gladly. Was it spontaneous? Yes. Was it amazing? Absolutely. The difference is that you have regrets because of whatever-the-hell keeps you from really living life. I get that something’s in your past that keeps you wanting complete control. We all have our demons, Tony. And for someone who is all about maintaining control, you have lost it with them.”
At that, his gaze shot up toward hers in question.
“Yeah, Tony. You say you’re in control, but whatever has hold of you…whatever holds you back? That’s what really controls your life.”
With that, she walked toward the bedroom alone. At the doorway, she paused but did not turn around. If I look at his face, I won’t be able to be strong. Sighing deeply, she added, “I want you Tony. But I want all of you. I deserve all of you. Not just the little part that you’re willing to give to me.” I want more than friendship.
She walked into the bedroom and closed the door. Sliding out of her sweat pants and sweatshirt, she pulled on her pajamas again and crawled under the covers, glad that the heat was still working in the cabin. She wondered if she would be able to sleep, but exhaustion took over and she drifted off. For the moment, peace was only found in slumber.
Chapter 6
Sleep did not come so easily for Tony. He sat for a long time, looking into the flickering flames dancing in the firelight. Strange, but fire was comforting to him. It always took him back to the campfires he and his men would sit around. On cold nights in Afghanistan, it was sometimes the only warmth they had. Tony’s mind opened and he allowed himself to wander back in time.
It was easier then…to talk, share, feel. At least before. Before life came to a screeching halt and the coldness seeped in to stay. After that, the campfire conversations centered around their missions. Looking back, he knew that was when the missions became his life. His control. Nothing else mattered but getting in, getting the job done, and getting all his men out safely.
Reaching into his back pocket finding his wallet, he pulled out the faded, worn picture. His fingers traced the faces once again. It’s getting harder to remember your face, Marla. But I remember how you made me feel. Happy. Like I was the center of your fuckin’ world. He thought about how old Sofia would be by now. Running around? Playing? What would be your favorite food? As much as his heart ached, he could not picture what she would look like if she were still alive. In his mind, she would always be the tiny, wrapped up infant he held the day she was born.
What would you want, Marla? You gotta tell me, ’cause I’m lost here. I’m afraid to move forward…to open myself up to that kind of pain again.
“Life without pain, isn’t really living.” Where have I heard that? Jesus, fuck. That was what she told me when she was in labor with Sofia. The memory washed over him as he thought back to the long, arduous labor. He hated seeing her in pain and had told her that he would take it all away if he could. She just looked up at me between contractions and said, “Life without pain, isn’t really living.”
At the time, he simply thought she meant that without the labor there would be no baby. But maybe, just maybe she meant more. Was telling him more. Was even giving him permission to live again, even if it opened him up to pain.
I want to try again, Marla. I want to try with Sherrie. He did not feel out of control. Panicked. Unsure. Instead, for the first time in a very long time, he knew what he wanted to do. Tomorrow, he vowed, I’ll start something new with her. Show her what I can be. What we can be. And treat her the way she deserves to be treated.
Sighing, he stretched his long frame on the sofa, pleasantly surprised that it accommodated his height. With his head on the arm, he lay with the photograph on his chest while staring at the fire. His eyes finally closed, falling into a troubled sleep.
In the middle of the night Sherrie quietly got out of bed to go to the bathroom. Not seeing Tony at first, she tiptoed toward the fire, seeing him asleep on the couch. Unwilling to disturb him, she turned to move away when a photograph on his chest caught her eye. She took one step closer, peering down to see a faded picture of a younger, smiling Tony with a beautiful dark haired woman holding a newborn baby.
Heart pounding, she felt sick as her mind raced. His hand, curled around the baby had a wedding ring. He was married. Married. Her thoughts swirled as she ran through the possibilities. He’d never leave his wife and baby which can only mean…oh my God. They must be… Not letting her mind accept the possibility that a young mother and baby could have died and what that would have done to a man like Tony, she numbly tiptoed back to her room.
A heavy weight pressed on her chest as she lay back down in the bed. A beautiful wife. A new baby. A smiling Tony. She rolled to her side, as a silent tear slid down her face landing on the pillow.
I’m a poor girl from a foster background with a dead, fucked-up druggie sister who had threatened his friends. I’m not good enough. I’ll never be good enough. It looks like he had perfect. I am nowhere near perfect.
Wiping her face, she realized that it was time to cut Tony loose. Time to let go of the idea of them together. Time to move on.
*
Tony woke suddenly, his military senses on alert. Not used to sleeping so soundly, it took a moment to figure out what he was hearing. Jumping up off the sofa, he caught sight of the
photograph that had landed on the floor. Grabbing it, he slid it back into his wallet. Torn between feeling lighter than he had in a long time and knowing that something was not right, he glanced to see the bedroom door was open and then sprinted to the front door to see the noise coming from the outside.
Throwing open the door he halted, stunned at the scene in front of him. The snow was still swirling creating a winter wonderland, completely covering their cars. Sherrie’s suitcase was sitting on the front porch and she was…what the fuck is she doing?
She was wrapped up in her coat, scarf, hat, and had tromped over to her car where she was attempting to rake almost a foot of snow off with her little scraper. If he was not so pissed, he would have been amused.
“What the hell are you doing out here?” he yelled.
She turned and looked at the angry man on the porch. Legs apart, hands on his hips, sleep tousled hair. Damn, this had seemed like a good idea when I got up.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” she yelled back. “I thought I would try to clear my car off so that I could go back home.”
“Woman, so what if you clear off the car? The driveway and roads are still impassable. You’re not fuckin’ going anywhere.”
“Well, I’ll be ready when they are clear,” she yelled back.
“Then what’s your suitcase doing sitting on the porch?”
“Um…” she said, no quick response coming to mind.
“Get your ass back in the cabin right now,” he ordered, his irritation ratcheting up to anger.
“You can’t order me around,” she yelled, now feeling foolish. The snow was landing on her face, freezing little crystals that made her cheeks hurt. Glancing over at her car, the small amount of snow that she had scraped off had been replaced by a fresh layer.
Sighing heavily, she turned toward the cabin trying to step in snow that had drifted in small mountains that came to her knees. Two steps in, she lost her footing falling face first into a pile.
Grabbing his boots and sliding his feet into them, he headed down the steps toward her. By the time he reached her floundering form, she was pushing herself up. She looked up, extending her hand toward him.
Tony: Alvarez Security Series Page 6