Every Night Without You: Caine & Addison, Book Two of Two (Unfinished Love series, 2)

by Violet Duke

  Adorable, adorable woman.

  “I’m fairly certain I’m going to be really bad at this,” she warned.

  “You’ll do great, sweets. It’s not really all that difficult.”

  A half hour later, he had a kitten-fierce Addison staring down a bullseye.

  Gently removing his hands from her shoulders, he murmured what soothing words he could, and stepped to the side. “Go for it, sweetheart. Remember everything I taught you.”

  Jaw set in determination, brows lowered at the target, she took a breath to steady her shaking hands. Then went completely trigger-happy, emptying out a full round in mere seconds.

  Unbelievable.

  …He stared at her in shock when her gun clicked empty.

  “What?” She pulled off her earmuffs and protective glasses.

  He was speechless.

  Pushing a button to bring the target sheet closer, he peered at it to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. “Addison, in all those shots, you didn’t come remotely close to hitting the target once,” he informed her in utter amazement. “Honey, you didn’t even hit the paper.”

  He would’ve laughed if he weren’t so perplexed. “Even by accident, you should’ve landed a shot somewhere.” He checked the bullets to make sure they weren’t blanks. “Did you square off like I told you to, aim the way I showed you?”

  She gave him a disappointed nod, then scrunched her nose. “Told you I’d be bad at this.”

  There was bad, and there was impossibly bad. “Sweetie, can you see the target?” Maybe she needed distance glasses. Or Lasik eye surgery.

  “Of course I can see the target.”

  That’s when he caught her playing with her pinky nail. One of her many cute tells that made her a horrible liar. “Tell me the truth, babe, are you shutting your eyes before you pull the trigger?”

  Her entire face turned bright red, and a defensive pout made an appearance. “Possibly.”

  He sighed. “You and your sunshine and goodness.”

  Kissing the tip of her nose while safely disarming her of the firearm that would be as useful as an indiscriminate rock in her hand, he came up with a Plan B. “C’mon, let’s head to the workout gym. I think some basic self-defense moves might be more your speed.”

  As they made their way over to the gym, she asked the question he’d been waiting to hear since she arrived at the precinct, “You think he’s coming for me soon, don’t you? That’s why you want me to be able to defend myself.”

  “Yes.” Caine had to grit his teeth to keep from punching the wall when dread filled her expression. “But I won’t let him near you, Addison. And when I stop him, I won’t be aiming to arrest him this time either.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Surprisingly, it wasn’t difficult to say the next part. “Earlier, when I went to go see my captain after you got here, I turned in my gun and badge.”

  Her eyes snapped up to his in horror. “Caine, no.”

  “It’s done. He told me he’s not officially accepting my resignation until the morning, but I’m not changing my mind. Now, I don’t need to pick between keeping my oath as an officer and keeping you in my life by whatever means necessary.” He slid both of his hands through her hair. “Now, I can do what I need to do to keep you safe.”

  “I-I can’t let you do that for me.”

  “Believe me, I’m doing this as much for me.” His tone roughened as he did his best to find the right words. “My whole adult life, it was like there was something missing, but not truly lost until the day I came home and found you and the kids gone. Disappeared without a trace. I didn’t know if you were alive. And it gutted me. Left a gaping wide cavity in my chest where my heart used to be.”

  Her face crumbled. Voice splintering with pain, she whispered hoarsely, “I’m so sorry, Caine. I will never, ever forgive myself for putting you through that—”

  “There’s nothing to forgive. You were being you. Thinking about me, about my career, my honor. But what you failed to consider back then is that you meant more to me than all of that combined. And honey, that’s even more the case now. So let me return the favor this time around. Let me protect you. Let me be me.”

  “But being an officer is who you are. You love being a cop.”

  “I love you more.”

  Her breathing hitched.

  His did too.

  Heart rammed up somewhere by this throat, he watched her simply refuse to let any words fall from her lips while she studied his gaze. Intently. As if expecting him to take back his confession.

  Never.

  Tears came to her eyes.

  “Happy tears or sad tears, baby?” The feeling of déjà vu hit him like a wrecking ball.

  Thankfully, as was the case seven years ago, she didn’t leave him wondering for long. Slipping her hands behind his neck, she gave him the answer he needed more than his next heartbeat, via one hell of a kiss.

  …At the end of which, she also gave him the words he’d waited a long damn time to hear.

  “I love you too, Caine.”

  His arms instantly locked around her. “You just sealed your fate, woman.” Voice now a deep, throbbing mass of emotions, he told her plainly, “No more debates about me quitting the force. I may return after all this is over, or I may transition fully to Spencer Securities. I don’t know yet. All I know is that no matter what I do, I can’t, won’t lose you again, Addison.”

  Face buried against her neck, lips needing to find and feel her beating pulse, he murmured raggedly, “Because if I did, I’d be a man not just lost, not just broken. But decimated beyond saving.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Addison felt her heart slam against her ribs and just plain stop working.

  Until she felt his five o’clock shadow rub over her skin, that is. Then her heartrate went haywire. Bombarded feelings, sensory overload. It was almost too much.

  But more so, not enough.

  He pulled back, gaze unguarded, expression more possessive than ever. “No tempting me with those sex kitten noises.” Gruff and hungry, his voice was pure sex in a growl. “First I need to see how well Alec has trained you to defend yourself.”

  This time, the sound that escaped her was one of mild distress.

  “What’d I just say, woman?”

  Why was all this barely restrained control of his so intensely sexy?

  “Caine, the thing is, I’m just not that good at martial arts eith—”

  The words lodged itself in her windpipe when she saw Caine drag his t-shirt over his head as they stepped foot into the gym and headed straight for the sparring mats.

  Just like that, she forgot everything she was about to say.

  And possibly everything she’d ever said in all of existence.

  Caine shirtless, barefoot, and casually walking around in an old pair of jeans…lordy, that was a good look on him. In uniform, he was fantasy-inspiring, no doubt, but this scruffy, laidback, ready-to-neck-on-the-couch look?

  Wow.

  “If you keep looking at me like that, I’ll be sporting wood soon. Which will be dangerous when we grapple for a couple of different reasons.” He took her phone and keys and stuffed it into a nearby locker with his own things. “You start stretching. I’ll go grab us some gloves and pads for warm-up drills.”

  That served as a splash of lukewarm water in her face, and other parts of her that benefitted from the cool-down. “Um…could we maybe skip those drills and go straight to grappling?” Hand-to-hand combat just wasn’t in her wheelhouse.

  He frowned. “Ideally, I want you able to fight David off before he has a chance to get you onto the ground. Didn’t you work on boxing basics with Alec?”

  “It’s not his fault.” Addison had of course participated in a number of self-defense workshops over the years back at the women’s shelter in Tucson. And God knows Alec and Hale had tried their best to work with her as well. But she’d been, at best, comic relief for everyone in attendance. “Caine, I just
really suck at it.” She shrugged helplessly. “You know those girls you see on TV who punch like their shoulders and elbows and brain have lost communication, who swing like they’re drunk, and juke like they have absolutely no sense of rhythm? Yeah…even those girls would make fun of how awful I am.”

  Caine’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “It can’t be that bad.”

  “Ohhh, but it is.”

  “Honey, back at Joe’s Diner when David first tried to attack you, you were ready to slice and dice him with meat cleavers from the kitchen.”

  “Totally different situation. That was pure instinct. But without fear and adrenaline suppressing all my natural inabilities, I’m afraid I lack the aggression, and more importantly, the coordination, to even land a decent punch.” Following him out onto the padded floor, she added on the bright side, “But apparently, I’m very good at kicking. That’s why I asked Alec and his brother Hale to teach me a little of that kicking-like-a-roach-on-its-back style of MMA defensive fighting. I actually got pretty good at it, too.”

  Caine stopped and gaped at her like she was shitting him.

  “My point is that I’m not totally hopeless.” She looked around for an open area she could lie down on to demonstrate her mad cockroach techniques. “You should probably be wearing a cup if we’re going to do this though because one time—”

  “Sweetheart.” Caine looked like he was struggling not to laugh his ass off. “Why don’t I just see what we’re working with? Come here and show me a punch.”

  She sighed. “Okay.”

  Was it just her, or did it get really quiet in the gym all of a sudden?

  Calling on all her past lessons, and doing some last-second visualizations of Wonder Woman in battle, she balled up her fist and let it rip.

  Sort of.

  To his credit, Caine didn’t laugh when her rabbit punch barely tapped him. “Not bad. But you need to put your hips into it, plant your feet and pivot at your core. Take a full swing. Try again. Just go a hundred percent. You won’t hurt me.”

  He asked for it.

  Curling both her hands in front of her face like she had a clue what she was doing, she wound up, and unleashed an epic, wide-sweeping roundhouse punch with her right that—in her mind—was going in movie-slow-mo for a massive fist-to-jaw showdown.

  But in reality, whiffled right past him.

  Her momentum after the missed punch sent her spinning like a figure skater on ice. And if not for Caine catching her wrist when her body made an entire revolution around, she probably would’ve knocked herself out with her own forearm.

  “Um.” He had no words.

  She hid in her comfortable heap on the ground for as long as she could.

  When she eventually pulled up her big girl panties and peeked out from between her fingers, she saw him glaring down everyone in the room.

  My hero.

  “My fault for telling you to take a swing,” he graciously took the blame as he helped her to her feet. “I think you should stick to short jabs for now.”

  My sweet, delusional hero.

  That one, she apparently said out loud because he just smiled and gave her an atta-girl coach’s butt pat. “C’mon. Let’s keep trying.”

  His next pat was decidedly un-coach like. And all the more effective because of it.

  They practiced for another half-hour or so, during which time, no one laughed, and she actually managed to clock him once in the chin at the end.

  “Hey, that was pretty good.” He grinned, loosening out his jaw. “How’d that feel?”

  She frowned.

  His eyes grew troubled. “Is all this upsetting you? Do you want to work on more defensive moves instead?”

  “No, no. That’s not it. The punch felt great. Kind of empowering, really.”

  A pleased and proud smile tipped his mouth up at one corner. “There’s my kick-ass girl. So then why’d you look upset just now?”

  Oy. She shifted her eyes up to the ceiling to avoid his. “When I punched you just now, I was aiming for your chest, not your face.”

  The laughter he’d been keeping impressively bottled-up this entire time finally broke free.

  “Here I thought you couldn’t get any cuter.” He wrapped a brawny arm around her and put a gloved hand under her chin. “On that note, I think that’s enough training for today.”

  “But…I’m still really bad.”

  “We’ll keep practicing every day. No worries, you’ll get there. And in the meantime—” His eyes melted to a molten dark chocolate. “Guess that means I can’t ever leave your side.” Brows raised a wicked inch, he added huskily, “That definitely works for me.”

  “No.”

  He blinked in disbelief. “What?”

  “I said no. You have other things to worry about. Like a madman gouging your eyes out in photos.” Unstrapping her gloves, she gave him a determined look. “I’ll keep working on my own day and night. And I’ll look into other ways to protect myself. You said it yourself; David wants to hurt you. So don’t go spending all your time worrying about me.”

  He growled.

  “Growl all you want, but I don’t want you to think that my safety is all on you. You need to stop looking at me all the time like a victimized woman who needs constant protection.”

  “And you need to stop thinking that’s the only reason I never take my eyes off you,” he grated out in a wholly riled rumble. One quick tug and she was strapped up in his vise-like arms, his gaze roaming her face like she was a work of art he was trying to understand. “Sweetheart, I don’t look at you and see a victimized woman who needs saving. I look at you and see my woman, the one who needs to stay alive so I can spend the rest of my life with her.”

  Oh. Well, when he put it that way... “I’m sorry I’m not better at defending myself.”

  He pressed his lips to her temple. “Don’t stress yourself out. Like you said, when the adrenaline is going, it’ll be different. Your inner badass will come out. I guarantee it.”

  “Maybe with the fighting. But the gun thing…”

  He waited patiently, just stroking her back.

  “The reason I’m bad with guns is because it takes all my strength not to shake while holding it in my hands, all my concentration not to jump and drop it after hearing the shot.”

  Concerned, he tilted her face up to his. “I thought this was just because you were a pacifist. Sweetheart, are you afraid of guns?”

  She took in a shuddery breath. “Deathly. At a few places my mom and I lived, there would be guys pulling guns on each other almost every other night, seemed like. My mom was always too high to care, or even remember. For me, I was always terrified.” She squeezed her eyes shut to block out the visuals. “At one house we lived in—before Tanner was born—there was this little area under the stairs that was closed on three sides where I’d curl up and hide every night.”

  Her body started quaking from the memories.

  The sound of Caine murmuring softly in her ear managed to keep her talking. “Since I was only in grade school, I was the only one in the house small enough to fit under there so I always thought I was safe. But then one night, when I was crawling in like usual, I heard a click, and then a gun getting shoved at my forehead. A tweaked-out high school kid started going off at me, stark-raving mad, accusing me of trying to take his stuff from his room.”

  Clenching her fists, Addison willed herself not to cry over something that hadn’t even turned out badly. “I’d never seen anyone get shot or anything, but still, having that gun in my face, with the shooter on a bad trip… I just…I thought I was going to die. The gun was maybe an inch away from me, and it seemed huge. Cold, and metal, and so….real. Nothing like on TV.”

  When Caine’s granite-like frame started vibrating with rage, she quickly skipped ahead to the end of her story, “Luckily, someone crashed into something against the stairwell and I was able to get the heck out of there. It wasn’t until I was a little older when it really sunk in that
the loud noise could’ve startled the kid and made him pull the trigger. That’s why now, when I see a gun, I sort of freeze up and picture my face getting blown to bits.” She dropped her gaze away. “Silly fear, I know, seeing as nothing even happened.”

  “Jesus Christ, Addison. Why the hell didn’t you tell me? Why’d you let me put a gun in your hand?” His hands slid through her hair, cradling her head on either side as he tucked her in against his chest. “I am so sorry that happened to you, sweetheart. So sorry I made you re-live it.” He cursed under his breath. “I’d never have brought you to the range had I known.”

  “It’s fine. You didn’t trigger a repressed memory or anything, Caine. Honest. A lot of it was just getting used to seeing a gun again that close. It’s been awhile. The housing complex has a no-weapons policy—even the guards only have stun guns and tasers. Alec is the only one with a firearm on site, but he keeps it locked up, or concealed under a jacket whenever he’s around me.”

  Caine exhaled harshly. “I know it’s not rationale or fair, but it drives me crazy that he knows things about you that I don’t.”

  She gazed into his sad eyes. “I promise, you know a lot of things about me that he doesn’t.”

  “Somehow I doubt that. Hate to admit it, but the guy’s a good P.I. He knows it all.”

  Shaking her head, she placed a hand against his rugged, sandpapery jaw. “He doesn’t know where I’m ticklish, or how to hold me so everything around just disappears.” Closing her eyes when she felt Caine’s arms do just that, she added softly, “And he doesn’t know how to kiss me in that way you do that makes me forget my own name.”

  When his eyes dropped down to her lips like a magnet, she smiled, unable to resist, “Then again, Alec hasn’t kissed me, so I don’t really have a basis for comparison.”

  And just like that, she got herself good and kissed. Until she forgot her name. And the name of the guy they were just talking about.

  Caine kissed her so deeply, so elementally, it was like the remaining air in her lungs had no choice but to morph into a wispy vapor with his name on it when she finally exhaled.

  “Damn, I’ve missed hearing you purr my name.” His entire body was now a solid rock wall…with a giant parking brake pushing up against her belly. “See what you do to me, woman?”