by Jessie Evans
“Yeah, me too.” He winced as he tucked himself back inside his pants.
It had nothing to do with him? What did that mean? Was she upset about some other guy? Wishing she was with him instead of Colt?
“I’m sorry.” She crossed her arms across her stomach with a soft laugh. “I guess that’s about as clear as mud.”
Colt ran a hand through his hair, torn between pulling her back into his arms and reaching for his coat and excusing himself before he made this any worse. He’d just been trying to give her what she wanted—hot sex with no emotions involved—but he’d failed miserably. His emotions were clearly beyond his control where this woman was concerned and instead of giving her a good time, he’d made her cry.
And now he felt like shit. Absolute shit.
“Do you want to come upstairs?” Phoebe asked, surprising him. “I’d rather not be alone right now if that’s okay. Maybe we could just hang out in bed and talk for a little while or something?”
“Sounds good.” Relief coursed through him. “But you’ll um…have to put on some pajamas, so I don’t get distracted.”
A smile trembled across her lips. “Done. As long as you agree not to rip them off of me. I’m more attached to my pajamas than I am my underwear.”
He nodded. “Agreed.”
She pressed up on tiptoe, dropping a light kiss to his lips that made his heart do strange things inside his chest. “Thank you.”
“For what?” he whispered, bringing one hand to cradle the back of her head. “Making you cry?”
“You didn’t make me cry. You could never make me cry.” And then she took his hand and started toward the stairs.
Colt followed, wondering when being led to bed by a naked woman had become such a complicated thing. And when had he become so concerned about Phoebe’s happiness that he would rather stay and let things get complicated than tell her goodbye.
Chapter 13
Phoebe
Everything was a hopeless mess.
Everything was also exactly, one hundred percent wonderful.
The fact that two such absolutely contradictory things were both true had the pleasant side effect of making Phoebe’s brain short circuit, keeping her from further stressing or crying or snotting on Colton’s rock hard chest.
Instead, she changed into her humping unicorn pajamas, turned on some music, and climbed into bed beside Colt, somehow managing to keep her hands from straying south of his waistline, even though he had stripped down to his boxers and tee shirt.
They lay snuggled in her bed until eleven o’clock, listening to her favorite Celtic Spirit Pandora channel and talking about all the parts of each other’s lives that they’d missed.
He told her about basic training and his first deployment and the months he spent on a relief mission in a drought-ravaged part of Africa that had changed the way he thought about how much was enough. She told him about her proudest nerd accomplishment—getting her MBA in five years instead of six—the thrill of moving out on her own for the first time, and the disappointment of realizing that she was being paid significantly less than the men at the firm hired to do her same exact job.
“I’m sorry,” Colt said, hugging her closer. “That shit makes me mad. Also makes me glad my sister runs her own business.”
“It does suck,” Phoebe agreed. “But like you said, when I think about how hard some of the women in the world have it—just trying to get enough food for their children to eat and convince the people around them that women deserve the right to an education.” She sighed. “Well, a little pay discrepancy doesn’t seem like such a big deal in comparison.”
“But it is a big deal,” Colt insisted. “It’s all part of the same thing. It’s injustice and we shouldn’t stop fighting it until it’s gone.”
She hummed against his warm skin, pleasantly surprised by his response.
“That’s what pissed me off sometimes about the other men in my unit,” he continued. “They would get so caught up in the fight, they’d forget what we were fighting for. Especially the young ones.”
Phoebe shifted her position on his chest to smile up into his face. “Young compared to your ancient, not-yet-thirty-year-old self?”
His lips curved on one side. “I’m an old soul, what can I say.”
“I wouldn’t have believed it before,” she said, her fingertips trailing lightly back and forth across his stomach, “but I think you’re right. You have hidden depths Colton Brody.”
His smile faded as he glanced at the candles burning on the bedside table, casting his handsome face in golden light. “Maybe I do.” He cleared his throat and reached for her hand, stilling her movement as he enfolded her fingers in his much larger ones. “But I should probably get going. I’m afraid I’ll fall asleep if I stay too much longer.”
“You can stay the night if you want,” Phoebe said, grateful the stress lobe of her brain still seemed to be on time out so she didn’t overthink the invitation. “I’ve got an extra toothbrush you can use.”
He took a deep breath, his lips pressing together. He didn’t look thrilled at the prospect, but he nodded. “Sounds good. I’ll try not to hog the covers.”
She pulled away, sliding down to the floor beside the bed. “Don’t worry about it. You’re so warm, I probably won’t need as many covers. And I think I’ve finally figured out how to keep the space heater running all night. I just have to be sure to unplug a few things downstairs before I turn it on.”
Squirming her feet into her slippers, she headed for the door. “Make yourself at home. The extra toothbrushes are in the top right-hand drawer in the bathroom.”
She padded down the stairs and around the corner into the darkened foyer where her clothes—and ripped panties—still lay in shadowy puddles on the floor. She gathered them up in one arm and hung their coats on the coat tree, trying not to think about how nice they looked hanging side by side or all the intense things he’d made her feel tonight.
She’d never imagined that hot, primal, take-me-now sex could be so emotionally overwhelming. If she had thought about it beforehand, she would have assumed being taken that way would be a little scary or demeaning, but there had been nothing frightening or dirty about it. Even when Colt was talking dirty and taking control of her body in that possessive way that drove her wild, his touch still communicated tenderness, thoughtfulness.
And the way he’d held her after, so clearly devastated by the thought that he’d hurt her…
Phoebe shook her head. She couldn’t think about that. Or she would start thinking about all the things that had been racing through her mind as he’d come inside her, clutching her so tight to his body that she’d felt like she was something vital and necessary to his very survival.
She would start thinking about how amazing it felt to be in his arms, how much she wanted to share more perfect nights with him, and how devastated she was going to be when he went back to his other life and left her with another ghost to haunt her home.
“I suck at casual sex, Old Vic,” she muttered to the house as she shuffled down the hall toward the kitchen, tossing her dirty clothes in the hall closet hamper on her way. “I wish Kelly were here.”
Kelly would know what to say to make her feel better, or at least would have been able to make her laugh about feeling bad.
God, she missed her sister so much. In some ways it was better being here, surrounded by Kelly’s things, in her house, in the town where they’d both grown up. But in some ways it made the loss real in a way it hadn’t been before.
Kelly was gone and she was never coming back and now Phoebe had screwed up and made her homecoming into something even more fraught with sadness and angst than it was already.
She should head back upstairs and tell Colton she’d changed her mind and that he had to go. He had to go and never come back and never call her or look at her or touch her again, at least not until he left town. Maybe then, by the time he came back, she would have been able to put the af
termath of their fling behind her.
She was so distracted—and increasingly miserable—that she didn’t bother turning the light on when she walked into the kitchen. So when she stepped on something hard that grunted and squirmed powerfully beneath her slipper, she couldn’t see what she’d stepped on.
That of course, didn’t stop her from screaming bloody murder.
Phoebe scrambled, still screaming, back toward the entrance to the kitchen, flicking on the light in time to see an enormous lizard flicking its blue tongue at her from a puddle in the middle of the tile.
She heard Colt call her name from upstairs, but before she could shout that she was okay, her sister’s not-dead-after-all skink grunted at her and began waddling ominously in her direction, summoning another scream from deep in her not-a-fan-of-big-lizards chest.
“What is it?” Colt shouted as he thundered down the stairs appearing behind her just as she scrambled out into the hall. She circled around him, wrapping her arms around his neck and climbing onto his back, unable to think of anything but getting her feet off the ground.
He grunted in surprise—a sound echoed by the approaching lizard—but reached an arm back to hold her in place. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“Sir Licks-a-Lot, my sister’s pet lizard,” Phoebe gasped, jabbing a finger over his shoulder toward the kitchen. “He’s right there! Right there! He’s not dead! He’s alive!”
Colt turned, his whip-tight muscles relaxing as he saw the monster crawling toward them.
“That’s usually what not dead means,” he said, amusement in his voice. “Jesus, Phoebe, I thought someone was breaking into the house.”
“I stepped on him! In the dark!” She clung more tightly to Colt’s neck, just in case he got any bright ideas about putting her down now that he seemed to think the crisis had passed. “I thought I was going to have a heart attack.”
“You probably scared the poor thing as much as he scared you.” Colton moved to squat down, but stopped when Phoebe let out a yelp of terror.
“Don’t touch it!” she begged. “Or at least don’t touch it until you put me on top of something first so it can’t get me.”
Colton snorted. “I can’t believe you’re this scared of a little lizard.”
“It’s not little, it’s enormous and lizard-y and reptilian,” Phoebe said, maintaining her death grip on Colt’s shoulders as he circled around the lizard, heading for the kitchen counter. “And it’s supposed to be dead. It disappeared a month ago. Frankie was coming by to feed it a couple of times a week and then one day it was just gone. My dad said it wouldn’t be able to live through the winter out of its terrarium.”
“Then we’d better get him back in there.” Colt eased her onto the counter before turning back to her with the smug grin of a man who has no irrational fears. “I’ll go get him settled and come back for you.”
“No,” Phoebe said, reaching out to clutch his hand. “What if it bites you and you die?”
“Skinks are nonvenomous,” Colt said. “I knew a guy that had one when I was based in Germany. They’re pretty laid back and smart too. As long as I’m gentle, the worst thing Sir Licks-a-Lot is going to do is pee on me if he gets scared.” He glanced over his shoulder. “And it looks like he already did that on the floor when you stepped on him.”
Phoebe cast a slightly less frantic look over Colt’s shoulder to where the lizard had stopped in the doorway and was gazing curiously in their direction. “Okay. But be careful and make sure you put the lid back on nice and tight. I can’t sleep in the same house with an uncontained lizard.”
Colt chuckled as he turned away. “That sounds dirtier than it should.”
“Don’t laugh at me, Colton Brody,” she said. “I’m probably going to be traumatized for the rest of my life.”
Still chuckling, Colt collected Sir Licks-a-Lot, who did seem pretty mellow and maybe even glad to be headed back to his cage—if lizards could experience emotions like gladness. Phoebe was more inclined to believe they felt nothing but cold, slimy feelings and a dastardly, lizard-y determination to skeeve out all in their presence.
But she supposed she would have to open her mind. She couldn’t turn Kelly’s pet out of the house. Kelly, who had been allergic to animal hair, had adored Sir Licks-a-Lot and his deceased predecessor, Gene Simmons.
By the time Colt made it back down the stairs, Phoebe had gathered a handful of paper towels and was considering getting down off of the kitchen counter and cleaning up Sir Licks-a-Lot’s mess. But when Colt took the towels from her hand with a grin and moved to do the job himself, she didn’t protest.
“You can stop laughing at me now,” she said, crossing her arms with a huff. “It’s perfectly normal to be afraid of reptiles.”
He stood, tossing the damp towels into the trash before coming to wash his hands at the sink beside her. “I’m not laughing at you. I’m just wondering what you would have done if you’d been alone.”
“Screamed for a lot longer,” she said, shuddering at the thought. “And probably run out of the house in my pajamas again.” She glanced down at the happily humping unicorns on her shirt. “I guess I should start wearing less embarrassing sleepwear.”
He grinned as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Or you could keep me around. Just for reptile-related emergencies.”
She looked up, her breath catching as she met his clear blue eyes. Their gazes met and held and something passed between them that stole the smile from his face and made her calming pulse begin to beat fast all over again.
“What’s going on, Colt,” she said softly.
“I don’t know exactly. It’s never happened to me before.” He searched her face intently, as if looking for the answer to a serious question before speaking in a low, careful voice, “But I think it’s called falling in love.”
She blinked fast, as shocked by his words as she was the tears springing into her eyes. “Wh-what?”
“I’m falling in love with you,” he said, his brow furrowing. “But if that’s more than you want on your plate, I understand. I just…I can’t help it.”
She swallowed. “You can’t help falling in love with me.”
He shook his head, and a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob burst from her throat.
“You’re serious?” She cocked her head, studying him out of the corner of her eyes. “Really?”
“Don’t I look serious,” he said, glowering in her direction.
“You look miserable,” she said honestly.
“That’s because the woman I’m falling in love with is looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.” He took a step back, shaking his head. “Forget I said anything. I should have known better after the way you looked at my flowers like a dog had crapped on your porch.”
“I didn’t! They’re beautiful,” Phoebe said. “I said they were beautiful.”
“It’s cool, Phoebe,” he said, lifting a palm her way as he headed out of the kitchen. “Seriously, we’ll pretend like it never happened.”
“But I don’t want to pretend it never happened.” She scrambled off the counter, hitting her knee, elbow, and tailbone on the way down. “Ouch. Shit.”
She limped after him, ignoring the pain radiating from her not-so-funny bone. “I don’t want you to go. Especially like this. Please, Colt, I—” Her words ended in a squeal as she tripped over her zombie slipper and fell in the exact spot where the skink had peed. “Oh my God!”
She reared back, brushing at her shirt, feeling damp on the front even though she had watched Colt mop up the mess. She was about to burst into tears—this was absolutely the last straw—when Colt appeared in the doorway again.
“What happened now?” he asked, staring down at her with a mixture of frustration and concern.
“I tripped over my zombie slipper,” she said, lips trembling. “And fell in the skink pee.”
His brow remained furrowed. “How did you manage that? I thought I got all of it.”
“I found the tiny bit you missed.” She sniffed. “Because I’m the unluckiest person in the entire world.”
He propped his hands on his hips as he crossed the room, stopping close enough that she had to tilt her head back to retain eye contact. “You do have your share, don’t you?”
She nodded. “But I bring most of it on myself.”
“How did you bring this on yourself?” he asked, gaze softening. “By wearing weird slippers?”
She nodded again, her fingers tangling nervously in her lap. “I’m sorry I was a jerk about the flowers. I wasn’t expecting them. I was prepared for you to wham bam thank you ma’am me. The romantic stuff threw me for a loop.”
“Well, it’s not like I haven’t wham bam thank you ma’am’d my share of women.” He squatted down with a sigh. “Some would probably say I brought this on myself, too.”
“But I’m glad you said what you said,” she said softly. “I feel a lot less confused now.”
“About what?” he asked, his expression guarded.
“About why it feels the way it does when we’re together.” She was suddenly feeling shy, but if Colt could find the courage to say he was falling in love with her she could go out on a limb, too. “Like something way more than just physical.”
“Yeah,” he said, relief spreading across his features. “So I’m not alone here?”
“No, you’re not alone. I’ve never been in love either, but I…” Her tongue slipped out to dampen her lips. “But I’ve had a crush on you most of my life so I guess falling in love with you would probably make sense.”
His eyes lit up, but his nod was reserved. “Then maybe we should just give this some space and see how things go.”
“Sounds good,” she said. “But don’t give me too much space. I seriously don’t think I could sleep tonight if you left me alone with the lizard. Even if he is in a terrarium. I mean, he’s escaped before.”
Colt grinned as he reached out to tug the collar of her pajamas. “That is wet, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” she said, smiling. “It is.”