Soul Reckoning

by Nancy E. Polin

  When she opened them, she glanced over to find his gaze affixed to her. A tingle ran down her spine and she looked away, trying to appear casual, doubting she did. After their earlier rainy day kiss, she didn’t know if she could ever gaze at him again without that shudder of want coursing through her. She would never have allowed such a public display of affection before. Sudden awareness brought heat to the surface of her skin.

  But as complicated as Luke seemed to be, she wanted to believe that he’d never be the kind of man to promise her a future while screwing her best friend on the side.

  That day came back to her, and she shook her head. She’d dropped by Craig’s place with a bottle of wine, let herself in with the key he’d entrusted to her, and, well, things hadn’t gone well. Primitive sounds led her to a sight that had Rowan taking her vino and leaving even as her fiancé had struggled into his pants to follow her.

  The humiliation still burned her. She hadn’t returned his ring, choosing to hock it instead. Childish, maybe, but she held no regret.

  “How’re you doing?” Luke swung onto the bench seat opposite her, glass of bourbon in hand. “Don’t know if you noticed while sitting here with that dead-eyed stare, but we’ve been closed for a while now.”

  Rowan blinked and looked around. The dining room was deserted and she couldn’t even detect Sonny’s off-key singing from the kitchen either. Except for the steady hum of the AC, the place was silent.

  “Everybody already left?”

  “Yeah.” He took a drink, eyes on her. “When you were zoning.”

  She gazed down into her soda and pushed it around with one finger. “There’s too much trying to crowd itself into my brain at once. I don’t think there’s enough room in there.”

  He nodded, his mouth turning upward for a moment before leveling out. “You should probably get some rest. It’s been an … eventful … day.”

  “Fat chance.” Rowan made no move to get up, just continued to push the unfinished soda around the table. “I keep expecting to wake up, like I’m living a dream within a dream one minute. The next minute I think I’m being ridiculous, you know, making-mountains-out-of-molehills kind of thing.”

  Luke said nothing for a long moment, as if weighing whatever words were working their way through his head. He sighed. “Sometimes we get stuck in a nightmare. At least you can most likely escape yours.”

  She looked back up, gaze roaming his face. He stared at her blandly before focusing beyond her, throat working. Thinking about the tidbit of information her mother had passed to her, Rowan wasn’t sure what to say, so waiting seemed the right response.

  “I’m not sure how much Andy told you and I can only imagine what must be going through your head. When you called me a loser a while back—”

  “I’m so sorry, Luke. I was upset, but I had absolutely no right to say that. It was cruel and uncalled for.” Shame flooded over her at the memory and her belly tightened. Temper lashing out or not, it had been a shitty thing to say.

  “You were right.” He shrugged, bringing his gaze back to hers. “I wasn’t always, but all it takes is that one … event … to shove you down a path you’d never have envisioned for yourself. Ever. ’Course, once you’re heading that way, it’s almost impossible to change direction.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  A smile twisted at the corner of his mouth. “That’s easy enough to say.”

  “Maybe, but it’s not like you’re ninety. Things change and always will. It’s inevitable.”

  “So all the platitudes assure us.” He finished his drink, stared into the empty glass, and grimaced. “I used to have something to offer. I honestly did.”

  She waited, but he said nothing more. When silence stretched between them, she figured that was as close as he was going to get at the moment. Maybe, just maybe, he’d feel free to open up later and tell her about his wife and daughter, but for now the door had closed. “It’s okay, Luke. We all tend to hide the hurt, don’t we?”

  He didn’t look at her, continuing to stare into his glass. The muscles in his jaw flexed, betraying his tension.

  Hoping to lighten the mood, Rowan cleared her throat and climbed to her feet. She slid him a glance from the corner of her eye and smirked. “In other news, I’ve decided to introduce a karaoke night to The Goose.”

  He went blank before his brows crinkled in consternation. When he looked up at her, the expression of absolute horror made her laugh. It felt good.

  “Seriously?”

  She shrugged, happy for the moment of brevity. “It’s fun. Have you ever done it?”

  ****

  He stared at her as she wandered over to the jukebox, perused for a few seconds, and selected a couple songs. “Don’t you ever sing along when a favorite song comes on?”

  She turned and offered him such a beautiful smile that his insides pooled. Realization cascaded over him and he pulled in a full, but shaking, breath.

  “Not if I can help myself.” It occurred to him what she was doing and he shook his head, touched, amused, and something more. He’d almost told her about Catherine and McKenzie, but the words stuck in his throat. They’d festered there, almost choking him. Instead of pushing him to unburden himself, she chose to distract. Just like he’d done to her earlier at the café.

  Rowan began to sing along with Lucinda Williams, keeping in tune with the singer’s throaty voice. Luke blinked in surprise, fairly impressed. If all karaoke singers sang that well, he would have less of a problem with it. When she grabbed a bottle of hot sauce off a neighboring table to use as a mic, he couldn’t contain the slow smile taking over his face.

  Hope spread throughout his body and he realized the trouble he was in as he watched the floor show. Her rich, cherry hair bounced against her slim shoulders when she moved to the music, mouth twitching with good humor as her gaze remained on him.

  Johnny Cash came on next and she offered him the hot sauce. “C’mon, you need to take over. We both know I won’t be able to do Johnny any justice.”

  Luke got up and walked over to take the bottle but chose to place it on a nearby table instead of crooning into it. Her playful smile fell ever so slightly when he touched her hair, resting his hand between her neck and the crook of her shoulder. He brushed her jaw with his thumb, marveling at the velvety softness of her skin.

  From the moment she’d walked into the bar, he’d wanted her. Anger over the realization had been his first, natural response. Now there was no anger, only a bittersweet acceptance.

  Those gray eyes pinned him now, watching, a little leery, smile gone.

  He framed her face, hands caressing her cheeks, knowing he was a goner. He’d fallen harder than he would have ever believed possible. But there was no way to articulate it to her. He needed more time.

  Words lost, he angled his head downward. The first kiss was tentative, asking, knowing where it might lead tonight. Knowing where he wanted it to lead. The emotions balled inside hadn’t been so insistent since his wife. No other woman had evoked this kind of raw want and attraction. He kissed her again and felt her fade into him, one hand sliding up to his shoulder, the other pushing into his hair.

  She pressed her body to his and he succumbed to burgeoning emotions instead of whatever may come tomorrow morning. Caressing his lips with hers, merging and falling deeper, he felt his needs burning brighter.

  Appearing to come to a decision, she broke away and took his hand.

  ****

  Luke’s midnight-blue eyes had bled into onyx, but his face tensed, looking a little unsure. It wasn’t an expression he comfortably wore. She suspected she knew why.

  As always, he wore a long-sleeved shirt. Another Henley, unbuttoned below the throat, but no further. Hiding his scars must have become second nature.

  “It’s okay,” she whispered, pressing her palm harder against his, twining their fingers. She didn’t know exactly what the warmth in her belly was telling her, but she didn’t believe it would lead her w
rong. At least not tonight.

  He followed her, and when they reached the base of the stairs, he pulled her off her feet and into his arms. Rowan cradled the back of his head, pressing her lips to his as he carried her. They stepped through the essence of roses, but neither broke the kiss.

  Once inside the tiny apartment, he hesitated, resting his forehead against hers. “Are you sure about this?”

  Her mind whirled, but she nodded. “As long as you have protection, we’re good.”

  His mouth pulled to the side in a smirk. “I’m a guy. I always have protection.”

  Rowan huffed but pulled him in for another kiss before he allowed her to drop to her feet. Their eyes met as they stilled, regarding one another, nerves trembling to the surface.

  Taking the rare initiative, she caught the hem of his shirt in both hands and peeled it upward. His body froze, but he did nothing to prevent her from removing the garment and tossing it aside. The planes of his chest were hard and lean, skin smooth on the undamaged side, pink and raised where he was scarred. A low moan rattled from him, deep and pained, but she ignored him, choosing to press her lips to his past injuries while he closed his eyes.

  “You don’t have to…”

  “I want to. You are who you are.” It was true. Everyone was a hot mess of scars and she was no exception. Most of hers just pressed from the inside out.

  Luke allowed her gentle touches for a few moments before catching her by the upper arms and holding her gaze with his. He must have approved of what he saw because his mouth turned hot and hard against hers, taking her startled breath with it.

  He picked her up and walked to the bedroom before they both tumbled into the softness of her comforter. From above her, Luke brushed her hair behind one ear, eyes dark with desire, but his gentle touch not more than a kiss upon her skin. A tenderness she hadn’t felt in a very long time bloomed low and spread through her bloodstream. She traced the contours of his face with her fingertips, memorizing the softness of his skin, the tiny dimple when he smirked, the straightness of his nose, and brush of his stubble.

  Retreating, he reached out to pull her into a sitting position to skim her top up over her head, his gaze roaming over the blue of her sports bra and the curve of her breasts.

  Rowan stripped the garment off, meeting his eyes, amused as his jaw sagged. He recovered in bare moments, pressing forward to kiss her neck, hand lightly running over her, igniting her skin beneath. She sucked in a breath when he worked his way down her sternum to plant open-mouthed kisses across her breasts, before sucking one nipple into his mouth and flicking it with the tip of his tongue. He kissed the tautness of her belly, unzipped her jeans, and slid his fingers within. He chuckled when she jerked in surprise.

  Luke hooked his fingers in her waistband to pull her bottoms and panties clear, and proceeded to caress her thighs with hands, lips, and tongue. When he slid up to her juncture, she dropped her head back against the pillows and sucked in a long, searing breath.

  Dizziness and pleasure soared within her mind and body. She floated, still amazed how gentle this man was. He’d pulled off the ultimate con on her. Luke wasn’t anything like he’d pretended.

  Sweat and gooseflesh rose over her skin and she blinked and shuddered. When he nudged her over the first peak, she arched upward, her body tensing and flooding with release.

  A true smile broke across his face when he crept up to brace above her. “God, you’re beautiful, Rowan.”

  “I bet … you say that … to … every woman … you sleep with…” She returned his smile, breaths coming in quick puffs between words.

  “Sure.” Luke’s smile quirked to the side before disappearing and his voice dropped to a whisper. “This time it happens to be true.”

  He pressed another kiss to her lips, burning and tingling against her. Luke nuzzled against her throat and she closed her eyes, letting the steady thrum of heat mingle with the lightness of bliss. Part of her wondered if it was just a snippet from a highly erotic dream. When he nipped her lower lip and offered her a roguish grin, the lovely haze split with a bolt of electricity. Her need burst from within and every negative thought entertained slipped away. Luke filled her senses, leaving everything else an unimportant blur.

  Rowan helped him shuck his jeans and boxer briefs, their movements faster, more insistent. Mouths met, kisses frantic, tongues touching and then tangling. When he slid inside, she was more than ready, but she couldn’t bite back her gasp as he filled her.

  Luke stopped to give her time to acclimate, but she smiled, pulling him down to crush her lips to his. She nipped him back as she wrapped herself around him, his slow rocking exploding into sudden powerful thrusts. Rowan shifted her hips to meet him eagerly, bringing him further inside her. As her blood pressure soared and sweat slicked her skin, she marveled how well they fit together. Hanging on to his shoulders, her sight dimmed and flickered when her muscles tensed. Second later, the tight ball of energy deep within her loins crackled and radiated outward in an explosive burst of heat and pleasure. A soft cry escaped from between her lips, lights dancing behind her eyes. Some part of her was aware of a tiny noise emanating from Luke’s throat when his own climax overtook him. He settled over her, breathing harsh, but despite his weight, she held him close, brushing her lips over his brow.

  They lay together, saying nothing for several moments until he rolled away to dispose of the condom, returning to her side before cool air could rush in to replace him. He pulled her close, and she rested her cheek to his chest, listening to his heart beat, feeling his breath against her hair.

  Muscles relaxing, her mind fuzzed with sleepiness. Through the fog, she wondered if she’d regret her actions, but she dozed off before her brain could formulate an honest answer.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Well, kiddo. You’re all grown up.” Jimmy tilted his head, regarding her. Deep creases slashed into his face, while dark circles beneath gray eyes offered a cadaverous appearance. Brushes of gray-tinged ginger hair stuck out at odd angles as if electrocuted and still carrying voltage.

  Rowan sat at the bar down from her uncle, gazing at him with trepidation. She’d never been afraid of him before, and the new realization baffled and saddened her. She had so many questions, but she couldn’t seem to find her voice.

  “You look just like your mom.” He smiled, tone self-deprecating. “Good thing. She got the attractive genes. I wound up looking like your great-aunt Tilly. Believe me, she was a scary woman, that one.”

  When she continued to study him, he sighed. “I’m sorry, Rowan. I fucked up. Sorry about the swearing. I mean, I messed up. This is really hard. I can’t even tell you. I’m still working stuff out, being dead and all. I tried to get your attention with the chair thing, but I guess all I did was succeed in scaring the hell out of you instead. I’m sorry about that, too.”

  She blinked at him. “That was you? I thought it was Robert.”

  Jimmy made a phhtt sound between his lips. “Nah, that guy is a one-hit wonder. Not that I can blame him. Once you get something down, you kind of stay with what works. The woman is kind of like that, too. Timothy tends to be a lot quieter, but he’s still adjusting.”

  “Timothy.”

  “I guess he hasn’t shown himself to you yet. He might not for a few years, well, if he even sticks around.”

  “This is so weird,” she mumbled, trying to remember what she was doing before she landed at the bar talking to her dead uncle. For whatever reason, her mind was blank.

  “I’m going to have to make this fast, kiddo. Communicating this way takes a lot out of, well, both of us. It would be easier if you were a sensitive, but it doesn’t feel like that’s the case.”

  “Sensitive?” The word slurred, and she didn’t know why. She tried again. “What do you mean by sensitive?”

  He’d paled, shadows sinking deeper in, the bones of his face jutting. “I don’t have much time. I need to show you something. Will you come with me?”

&nbs
p; Rowan didn’t move, frowning at him instead. Her brain seemed to be tilting and she shook her head to right it. “I don’t know.”

  “It’ll help you understand. I really am sorry. Sorry for so many things. You have no idea how much.” Anguish sharpened his appearance into just short of terrifying and Rowan found herself sliding off the stool and backing away. “You might even hate me, but I have to take that chance. You need to know the truth.”

  “Please.” Fear glazed the eyes so much like her own. “He might try to break through again soon. You should see before he does.”

  He appeared to be fading, and she blinked her eyes hard to clear them. “He? The man who’s been … haunting me?”

  “Come with me now.” Jimmy reached out to take her hand.

  ****

  Luke opened one eye at the first loud strike but waited a moment to judge whether it came from his subconscious or reality. Sleep had been sound for the first time in months, maybe even years, and he was reluctant to leave it behind. Reaching out to stroke one hand across Rowan’s smooth skin, all he touched were cool sheets and tangled bedding.

  He sat up quickly at the second blow, the pounding emulating from the other side of the wall. Pulling on his underwear, he stepped into the living room, cautious, but half-expecting it to be one of the tavern’s ghosts yanking his chain.

  Switching on the lamp next to the couch, he froze and stared in bewilderment.

  Rowan swung the hammer into the drywall, the small hole she’d created gradually expanding into a gaping opening between studs. She hit the wall again, face slack, emotionless.

  “Rowan?”

  She didn’t respond, the swinging of the hammer steady, the force used evenly distributed.

  Sleepwalking? She’d been coherent enough to pull his shirt on but nothing else. In almost any other circumstance, he would have been amused and a trifle turned on at the sight of her perfect butt cheeks peeking out and flashing at him.

  His heart kicked up and an icy chill settled onto his skin when understanding slapped at him. She was reopening one of the holes Jimmy had punched into the wall before his death.