Lost in Her

by Sandra Owens

  “That’s it,” he said. “My sad story.”

  That was putting it mildly. “What’re you going to do about your brother?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think I can ever forgive him.”

  He couldn’t possibly know how much those words hurt deep in her heart. “Until you do, you won’t ever be able to let go of her.” And that was the crux of the matter from her perspective. She was really proud that she had managed to keep her voice steady.

  Standing, he began to pace the small confines of the balcony. Not knowing what else to say, she brought up her legs and rested her head on her knees. God, she was tired, both physically and emotionally. She lifted her head to see him standing at the railing as he stared into the night.

  Enough was enough. She couldn’t do this. It had been a mistake to come. Quietly slipping away, she went into the room and climbed onto the bed, curling up on her side with her face toward the wall. Too wrung out to even cry, she closed her eyes. Minutes later, the bed dipped as he slid up behind her, spooning her. Unable to help herself, she tensed.

  “What you just said, you’re right.” His arms came around her and he pressed his mouth against her neck. “I’m sorry, Charlene.”

  When she didn’t respond, he pulled her closer, until a piece of paper wouldn’t have fit between them. He was killing her. There was no place she’d rather be than in his arms, but she couldn’t be with a man who loved a ghost.

  “Will you come with me tomorrow to my parents’ house?”

  “No. I can’t.” She turned to face him. “I can’t do it, Ryan. You need to figure out what you want, and you especially need to find a way to forgive your brother. It’s not a journey I can take with you.”

  The orange streaks in his eyes flared. “Do you care about me at all, cherub?” He tugged on the silver chain, pulling his ring out from under her shirt. “I know this thing between us started as a game, but I don’t want to lose you. I am though, aren’t I?”

  She wanted to deny it, wanted to take him however she could have him. But she would hate herself for settling for second best, and in the end, he would lose all respect for her. The only thing she could do was to be honest with him.

  “I’m halfway in love with you, Ryan. Whether you lose me or not depends on you.” She put her finger over his lips when he began to speak. “I’m not jealous you loved your wife, but I’m sure as hell jealous of her ghost. If you can’t let her go, and a part of that is forgiving your brother, then there is no us.”

  His beautiful eyes filled with tears. “I know I have to let her go, but I don’t know if I can forgive Patrick.”

  “Then you’ll never be free of her. I’m sorry for you.”

  “Can I stay with you tonight?”

  She wanted to tell him no, but she couldn’t say the word.

  “Do you want me to go? If that’s what you—”

  “Stay.”

  A shudder passed through him, then his mouth covered hers. His kiss was hot, demanding, possessive. There was nothing tender about it. At that moment, if her life had depended on it, she wouldn’t have been able to resist him. How much he really did need her, she didn’t know, but she needed him. Wanted him. Burned for him. If that made her a fool, she didn’t care. Not then. If she felt differently in the morning, she would deal with it.

  “Make love to me, Hot Guy.”

  Ryan wasn’t sure he heard her right. Why wasn’t she ordering him to leave, to get out of her life and leave her in peace? He was a hot mess, and without any consideration of what was going on in her life, he’d called and begged her to come to Boston. Then when she had, instead of showing her how happy he was to see her, he’d gone and dumped his pathetic story on her. Yet she was still here, looking at him with those soft, blue-gray eyes of hers.

  She’d given him an ultimatum. Forgive his brother or lose her. Because he couldn’t bear the thought of not having her in his life, he would try to do as she asked. Somehow he would find a way to do the impossible.

  Her small hand came up to cradle his cheek. “Please, Ryan.”

  “Yes,” he whispered. He stood and removed his clothes, then slid his arms under her and picked her up.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Where we going?”

  “I spent most of the day walking the streets of Boston before ending up at my parents’. I need a shower so I’ll smell good for you.” He nuzzled her neck. “I figured you could join me.”

  Wanting to take care of her, he sat her on the counter, then undressed her after turning on the water to warm up. Although he was as hard as an iron bar from wanting her, he didn’t want to take her in the shower. Instead, he bathed her, using the scented soap and shampoo provided by the bed-and-breakfast.

  She hummed, rippling like a cat being petted as he rubbed the . . . “What do you call this thing?” He held up the sponge he’d taken out of a cellophane wrap.

  “A loofah. I’m not sure I’ve ever smelled like a strawberry,” she said, eyeing the label of the shampoo bottle.

  “I love strawberries. Did you know that?” He licked the skin at the bottom of her neck. “Mmm, delicious.” At her giggle, he smiled. If he didn’t find a way to make things right with her, he would be the biggest idiot in the world.

  After pouring more of the liquid soap onto the loofah, he knelt in front of her and began to wash the bottom half of her. His face was even with her curls, and unable to resist, he trailed his tongue through her folds, then up. When he touched her clit, her hands grabbed on to the top of his head.

  “Ryan?”

  “Hush, baby.” Her taste was strawberry sweet, and as he lapped at her and inhaled her scent, he wrapped his hand around himself. If he didn’t take the edge off, he would come the second he slid into her. It wasn’t long before she gasped as a shudder moved through her, and he let go, too.

  “Charlie,” he said between harsh breaths, then he buried his face against her stomach, squeezing his eyes shut. “Charlie.”

  She reached behind them and turned off the water, then knelt in front of him. “No matter what happens tomorrow, this night is ours, okay?”

  It was more than okay, and although he wanted to demand that she promise they would be together after tomorrow, he didn’t. “Okay,” he said, and scooped her up, carrying her to the bed.

  “We’re wet,” she said, laughing.

  “Just makes it easier to slip slide all over you. Or I could lick you dry. Your choice.”

  His cherub huffed out a breath. “That’s like asking if I want to win a million dollars or win a million dollars.”

  “Some of both then,” he said. As he slid over her warm body, he licked away at the droplets of water on her silky, sweet-smelling skin. She deserved so much more than life had given her, and for that night at least, he would show her how special she was.

  He pushed up on his elbows and stared down at her, his breath catching at the hint of sadness in her eyes. Although he wanted to tell her not to be sad, that he would find a way to make things right for them, he wouldn’t promise something he wasn’t sure of.

  “Just so you know, Charlene, there’s no one else in this bed with us. It’s just you and me here tonight.” That, he could promise her.

  “Just you and me,” she whispered, then pulled his head down.

  Their mouths met, explored, tasted each other. Their tongues swirled around each other’s, scraping teeth, their noses bumping as the intensity of the kiss increased. The need for her that swelled through him rocked his soul.

  You’re mine, Charlene Morgan, he wanted to tell her, but he didn’t have the right to say it. Not yet. So he showed her with his mouth, with his caresses, and with his body what she meant to him.

  As he positioned himself to enter her, he froze. “I’m an idiot. I don’t have a condom, cherub, but I’m clean.” Not only had he not been with anyone since Kathleen, but K2 required physicals, so he was double sure.

  “I’ve been tested since I broke up with what’s his
name. I’m good.” She grinned up at him. “Even better, I’m on the pill.”

  “Then let’s make some magic, okay?” He liked how she’d referred to her ex, and if it bothered him to think of her with someone else, how must it feel for her to have Kathleen’s presence between them? But he’d promised her there were only the two of them in this bed, and he pushed the stray thought away.

  “Yes, please.”

  When he slid into her, he sighed and stilled. The sensation of having her wrapped around him, all hot and wet, was so pleasurable that he couldn’t even think of words good enough to describe it. She nuzzled her face against his neck and scraped her teeth over his skin.

  “Charlene,” he said as he began to move. “You feel so good.”

  “And you feel . . . impressive.” She giggled.

  “And you think that’s funny? I’ll show you impressive, then dare laugh.”

  With great effort and control, Ryan made love to his girlfriend slow and easy. If that one night was all they had, then she would damn well remember it and him. He made her come three times before he couldn’t hold back any longer, and when he let go, he came so hard and long that white spots danced in front of his eyes.

  “I think I’m permanently cross-eyed,” he said when he could talk again. She didn’t laugh, didn’t say anything, just held him tightly to her. He pretended not to notice her tears dampening his skin.

  Throughout the night, they alternated between sleep and making love, sometimes hard and fast, sometimes in the slow haze of a half-asleep state. Each time, he felt her tears afterward. She was breaking his heart.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  The cup of coffee sat untouched in front of her. After she had changed her afternoon flight home to a morning one, Ryan had insisted on waiting with her until it was time to go to her departure gate. His coffee was untouched, too.

  Charlie wished he would leave.

  If he would go away, she wouldn’t be able to smell him. She wouldn’t have the desire to reach up and feel the bristle of his unshaven face against her palm. She wouldn’t keep thinking about how dangerous and sexy he looked with a day-old beard. He reached over and trailed the back of his knuckles down her cheek. She wished he wouldn’t do that, she thought, as she closed her eyes against the burn in them.

  “I’ll be back in time for your air show,” he said.

  Charlie shook her head. “No, stay here with your parents. You said you haven’t seen them in a year, and they’d be disappointed if you left so soon.”

  “I’ll call you every day then.”

  Again, she shook her head. “Please don’t. Don’t call me, don’t come to see me.”

  “Ever?”

  There was anger in his voice, but she didn’t care. “Not unless you can look me in the eyes and say you’ve forgiven not only your brother, but your wife, too. You once promised you would never lie to me. If the day comes when you can do what I need, then come to me, and I’ll believe you.”

  He stared hard at his coffee cup as he twirled it in a circle. Then he turned his uniquely colored eyes on her, the orange in them flaring like a lit match. “No, I’ll never lie to you, Charlene.” He stood and stuck his hands halfway into his pockets. “The barbarian inside me wants to throw you over my shoulder and carry you to my lair, no matter how you feel about it.” He leaned down and kissed her hard, then he walked away without looking back.

  Tears streaming down her face, Charlie watched him until he disappeared against the crowd of people hurrying to their gate. When she could no longer see him, she swiped at her eyes, then, towing her carry-on behind her, got in the security line.

  After dropping her things off at her apartment, Charlie went straight to Emerald Coast Aviation, made a preflight check, oversaw the fueling of her plane, then took to the air, the one place she could put Ryan out of her mind.

  For the air show, she would start with an inverted flight, simply flying low and upside down past the grandstand. The stunt started from a wingover, putting her in the upside-down position, then she accelerated to cruise speed, keeping the plane’s nose elevated higher than the tail.

  She went through each aerobatic maneuver she had planned without once thinking of Hot Guy, something she marveled at when the plane’s wheels were back on the ground. The moment she rolled to a stop, there he was, back in her mind. Maybe she should just take to the air twenty-four seven.

  After she landed and had climbed out of her plane, she turned her phone back on. Four beeps, one after the other, sounded, signaling messages. Ignoring them for the moment, she made sure her plane was towed back into the hangar. Waving good-bye to the girl behind the counter, Charlie clicked on her messages as she walked to her car.

  The first was from Maria, and Charlie hit Call Back. “It’s Charlie,” she said when her friend answered.

  “Where are you?”

  “Here. Pensacola.” She got in her car and turned on the ignition long enough to roll down her windows.

  “Oh, I thought you’d still be in Boston.”

  Charlie didn’t want to talk about Boston or the man she’d left there. “Nope. I’m back.”

  “Right. Subject off-limits.”

  “For today, anyway. How’s Mr. Bunny doing?” She even missed his rabbit.

  “Having a ball playing with Mouse. You gonna come get him?”

  “If you want me to, but I moved back to my place.”

  “He’s fine with me if that works better for you.”

  “Yeah, I think it’s best.” She didn’t want to give Ryan any reason to come see her unless it was to tell her he’d done what she had asked.

  “No problem. The reason I called is we picked up three sets of fingerprints that weren’t yours. One was Ryan’s, and since you said he was in your apartment with you, that was expected. Of the two others, one we got a hit on and the other we didn’t. The one we can’t identify is possibly a woman’s. I can’t tell you that for sure, but some studies indicate that women tend to have a somewhat higher ridge density than men. Nothing conclusive, so best guess it was a woman. The third one belonged to Aaron Gardner.”

  “My ex,” she said.

  “How long’s it been since he was in your apartment?”

  “Over a year. Wouldn’t his prints be gone by now?”

  “Not necessarily. Unfortunately, there’s no way to know how old they are. As for the one that might be a female’s—”

  “There’s been no female in my place other than you and me. Well, except for whomever those belong to.” It was embarrassing to admit she didn’t have any female friends. She needed to get out more. Make some friends.

  “And we can’t say for sure those are female prints.”

  Charlie sighed. She didn’t need this crap, wondering who had been in her home, nosing through her stuff. “So I don’t know any more than I did before?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Not your fault. I really appreciate everything you’ve done.” And she did. After years of being alone other than the short time she’d let Aaron into her life, it was nice to have friends who cared about her. More than nice.

  “I wish we could point to someone with certainty. I don’t like that someone’s been in your apartment without you knowing. Just don’t let your guard down, okay?”

  After promising she’d stay alert, Charlie ended the call, then checked her next message. It was from David, wanting to make sure she would be back at the flight school on Monday as promised. She called him, got his voice mail, and assured him that she would be there. After spending the money on her plane ticket to Boston, she should go back to work immediately, but she just wasn’t up to it.

  The third message was a text from Ryan. Even as she told herself not to open it, her finger did just that.

  I can still smell you on my skin.

  You’re killing me, Hot Guy. She saved the text. When she’d told him not to call or come see her, it hadn’t occurred to her to tell him not to text her either, so in all fairness, h
e wasn’t breaking the rules. God, she missed him.

  Should she answer? No, she wouldn’t make it easy on him. But he was thinking about her, and that had to count for something. Before she changed her mind and answered him, she hurried on to the last message.

  As soon as she heard the voice, she almost clicked off. Why was Aaron calling her? When the message ended, she frowned. For what reason would he want to see her? They had nothing to say to each other, the lying, cheating bastard. She still hadn’t gotten over the shock of him being married, and she was almost tempted to call him back and tell him what she thought of him. But she didn’t really care anymore, and the realization was freeing. She didn’t care about him one way or the other. Deleting his message, she started her car and turned for home.

  For dinner, Charlie opened a can of vegetable soup. She supposed she’d be eating a lot of canned soup for a while until she replenished her bank account. The oyster crackers she liked to have with soup had just become an extravagance, so she limited herself to five.

  “Pitiful,” she muttered. As she ate, she tried to decide if the cost of the ticket to Boston had been worth it. Who was she kidding? She’d do it again without a thought. The night with Ryan had been magical, and if there was never a repeat—no, she wouldn’t cry—she had a dang good memory.

  She cried.

  No longer hungry, she put the remainder of her dinner in a plastic bowl and the three uneaten crackers back in the bag. Although she told herself not to do it, she got her phone and pulled up Ryan’s text. She was staring at it, lecturing herself not to respond, when there was a knock at the door. The only person she could think of who might stop by was Maria.

  She went to the living room and put her eye up to the peephole. Really? “I’m not home,” she said.

  “Please, Charlie. Open the door.”

  “Go away, Aaron. We have nothing to talk about.”

  “I miss you, baby.”

  A rage burned through her, and she unhooked the chain. So angry when she opened the door, she pushed him back. “You don’t have the right to miss me, jackass. Go home to your wife.” When his mouth opened and closed, reminding her of a blowfish, she pushed him again. “Yes, your wife, who you neglected to mention. Or that you had a kid, who I feel really sorry for, by the way, for having a loser father like you.” The lock of blond hair that she’d once adored fell over his forehead. Instead of wanting to brush it back like she used to, she wanted to pull it out by the roots.