All of You: The Lonnigans, Book 1

by Dee Tenorio

  “She did. It was written on my shirt. I think Saunders was the name of the street the church was on.”

  “So you’ve never had anyone?”

  She shrugged, as if it didn’t matter. But it did. Lucas was occasionally—all right, mostly—a pain in the ass, but he was always there when Kyle needed him. Even a few times when he didn’t. The thought that she’d never had that, not anywhere in her memory, seemed wrong.

  “You have me, Jess. You can always have me.” He hugged her close but her body remained stiff and unbending. He decided not to push her any more. Better to make her smile again. Logic and emotion she seemed able to dismiss at will. She couldn’t seem to resist humor. “Our sleeping together isn’t exactly a bad thing, you know. I kinda like it.”

  She said nothing.

  “If it really bothers you that we do this almost every time we see each other, I’d be more than willing to sleep together every time we see each other.”

  She didn’t reply, making him lean over her to try and see her face. Yup, smiling, but she tried to cover it. He pulled on her hand, but she kept it glued over her mouth. So he decided to play, tickling her neck with a single finger, poking at her ear, then making her yelp when he went for the gold and flipped open her still gaping blouse.

  “Stop that!” She swatted at his hand.

  “But it’s so pretty in here.” And it was. Creamy, sweet skin, gentle swells of breast, small rose-colored peaks that he’d swear were flavored like honeysuckle. He smiled as she covered herself back up while impatiently pushing his hands away.

  “You’d be so much easier to get rid of if I didn’t like you,” she complained with a laugh, finally rolling onto her back to look up at him.

  “You admit you like me. That’s a good place to start.”

  Probably the wrong thing to say because she sobered again.

  “Uh-oh, that’s the look you get when you tell me something unpleasant.”

  “Truth is often unpleasant.”

  “Who’s truth would this be?”

  “Mine. And it’s yours too, if you’re honest with yourself.” He comforted himself that she had to take a breath before starting to talk again. It meant she didn’t want to say whatever she was about to say. “Things like this, like us, they don’t happen, Kyle. They especially don’t happen to me.”

  “Things like what?”

  “Like, like having sex on the floor of my office with a man I barely know.”

  “We’ve known each other for weeks,” he reminded her as casually as possible. If he let her know she was starting to scare him, she’d move even faster. Jessica was definitely a rip-it-off-fast kind of woman.

  “We’ve known of each other. Big difference.”

  “Not really. People fall in love at the drop of a hat all the time. We just complicated it because you thought I was someone else when the hat fell. That’s all fixed now.”

  She was cute when she was perplexed. Her mouth pursed and her eyes flashed as she tried to make sense of him. “There’s so much wrong with that statement I can’t even decide where to start.”

  He attempted a doe-eyed blink. “You still think I’m Lucas?”

  She smirked at him.

  “Well, that’s one thing that’s not wrong. You know who I am and I know who you are and you don’t hate me for it, right? Which means that part is fixed. Or did I misinterpret what just happened here?”

  Her expression turned grudging. “No, I’m not mad at you anymore. For that,” she added, as if warning him he was trucking up close to something else that would get him in trouble.

  “So what really has you so upset is that I said we fell in love. I don’t see what’s wrong about that, though. I’m falling in love with you more every time I see you.”

  Her eyes widened and her lips moved, but she didn’t seem able to find what word she wanted to use. Or maybe just one she was willing to. He waited, staring down at her and coaxing her by nodding.

  Until she hit his shoulder and turned again on her side. “Never mind.”

  “No, you were about to say something.” Hopefully something about how she felt the same way.

  “No, I wasn’t.”

  “Jess—”

  “Jessica. My name is Jessica,” she grumbled with a slight snap, back to the name business. He was starting to get the feeling it was her fallback argument, when she knew she didn’t have a leg to stand on in the previous one. “Why is that hard for you?” she continued. “Everyone else on the planet respects that I don’t like nicknames. Why don’t you?”

  “Because I’m not everyone else on the planet. I’m special and so are you.”

  “This isn’t about if I’m special or not. It’s about courtesy.”

  He wanted to laugh. She was barely dressed, her body still warm and wet from his, hair wild across her carpet, but damn if she didn’t sound haughty enough to have her own throne. “I’m courteous. I like calling you Jess. Knowing I’m the only one who does. That’s what special means.”

  She sat up, eyes narrow, her hands frantically going to work on her blouse. The buttons came together with ruthless determination. “I don’t want special.”

  Just like that, all the playfulness was gone. He flinched, but he doubted she saw it. She was too busy trying to make herself look like nothing had happened. Back to the unflappable, unyielding Jessica Saunders. And doing a damn good job of it too.

  But the words were still there. Still coming out of her mouth and he had to hope that they had meaning.

  “You’re admitting something incredible is happening here?”

  “No. All that’s happening is chemistry. I failed chemistry. With any luck, I’ll fail at this too.” She scrambled to her feet, miraculously without touching him or looking at him even once. She all but ran to a door on the side of the room that he’d never even noticed before. A small bathroom, it looked like. Hard to tell because she closed the door so fast. He heard the sound of running water and sighed.

  “Bet she got an A in her track class, though,” he mumbled, reaching for his shirt, shaking out the wrinkles twice before sliding his arm into the sleeve. Reluctantly, he rose to his feet, stuffed his shirttails into his pants and zipped them up. His muscles complained but the physical satisfaction took the edge off the discomfort. Now if he could just do something about the emotional ache.

  On the one hand, he didn’t blame her for being terrified. She scared him all the way down to his toes. Every moment around her was charged with something way bigger than he ever thought to hope for. Loving Jessica meant loving himself a little less than he was used to. If he were honest, he’d spent the last fifteen years dedicated to loving himself. Loving what he did, where he went, where he could go and what he could do while he was there.

  Then he met her and all he could think about were ways to take that guarded expression away. Ways to make her smile. Ways to make her moan. Loving how she spoke, how she touched, how she knew what he was thinking with just a look. Suddenly, there was someone far more important in his life than himself and even with his desire for something more fulfilling, that was an unnerving notion.

  Until he looked in her eyes and saw longing. Until he touched her body and felt need. Need for him. Need for what they made between them so easily. Then it wasn’t frightening at all.

  On the other hand, he almost wished he could be like her. Life would be a lot easier for him if he could pretend it wasn’t happening.

  Jessica Saunders was a complicated woman. Not the blank, happy, child-bearing, house-cleaning, gives-great-massages woman he’d envisioned as his dream come true. When this whole thing started, he’d wanted a family. He’d wanted fulfillment. He’d particularly wanted effort-free.

  He hadn’t thought about falling in love, which is exactly what he’d done. He’d seen her across that restaurant and in less time than it took to blink, it was already over. She spoke, she laughed, she seduced and he never had a prayer of wanting anyone else. Someone who might be interested in w
anting him back. Someone who might want anything resembling the life he craved.

  Jessica wanted a career, not kids. She wanted to change the world, not diapers. And nothing he could say would change her mind.

  But he couldn’t make himself let go.

  “You’re still here.” Jessica’s flat voice snapped him free of his brood. She looked almost put together again, standing just outside the door, her face moist from where she’d no doubt tried to scrub off his kisses. While her clothes were smoothed and her hair back in place, she still had the air of a woman who’d been thoroughly made love to.

  His chest tightened, an odd sense of pride filling him at knowing he’d been part of that. “You thought I was leaving?”

  “I can’t see what you’d gain by staying.”

  “You’re determined to make this get ugly, aren’t you?” He started buttoning his shirt, feeling her eyes on the skin of his chest like firebrands.

  “Not ugly. Over.” She walked briskly past him to her desk, where she started collecting the stacks of files and paper. He watched her for a full minute, looking for some sign of emotion in her but there wasn’t any. She took her work and set it in a drawer, not so much as a tremble to give her feelings away. No remorse, no apology. Not even a wham, bam, thank you, man.

  His hands tightened into fists, a wash of anger swelling in him. This was the woman who’d taken him inside her and stolen everything he thought he knew with a husky laugh? Hard to believe. In fact, he didn’t believe it at all. Which only served to piss him off further.

  He grabbed his jacket. “So that’s it then? Thanks for the rug burn, see you later?”

  She froze for a second—just one—before she finished locking her cabinet and stood up silently, evidently determined to act like he wasn’t there. Even so, she was beautiful. Her spine was iron straight, fine shoulders rolled back, her mane of hair falling slightly tangled.

  How the hell did that work? She was trying to shove him out of her life, trying to kick him in the balls really, and he still thought she was beautiful. If this wasn’t love, maybe it was malaria.

  She finally turned to him again, her dark eyes completely devoid of anything. If it was a mask, it was the best one he’d ever seen.

  “I know what I’m doing, Kyle. It’s what I have to do. I don’t have room in my life for your house or your dog or your yard. I have dreams of my own. A career. Security when I get old. Respect for myself and my achievements. I can’t throw that all away because we’re infatuated with each other. Infatuation fades. Love goes away, especially if you don’t want it. Believe me, I know. And because of that, I’ve made it this far in my life without it. I can go the rest of my life without too.”

  He shook his head at her, wanting to mock her desperation, unable to do it. He didn’t have to break her to prove her wrong. All he had to do was leave.

  “It’s not going to go away, Jess. Even if you never see me again, you’ll still remember me. Always wonder about me and where I ended up. Always wonder what might have happened if you’d taken a chance. Sending me away doesn’t mean you don’t get hurt. It just means you have no one to blame but yourself.”

  He grabbed his jacket and started out of the room.

  “Kyle,” she called, making him spin around. The longing was back in her eyes; hurt and loneliness so deep it was almost enough to curb his anger. Almost. She took a breath, looking down at her twisting hands, her facade crumbling with each passing second. “I know it doesn’t mean much, but I’m sorry.”

  “No, you’re not,” he said, not caring that bitterness edged his voice or that her eyes widened at hearing it. “But you will be.” He paused briefly before opening the door. “Don’t forget your underwear in the corner. I’d hate you to lose your job because of this. Especially since it’s all you have.”

  Then he left.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sunday afternoons used to be his favorite time. The one day each week he spent purely to rejuvenate, usually with a run on the beach until the sun went down. But instead of the beach, he was sitting in the hospital again, back in an uncomfortable chair drinking terrible coffee and watching Dory sleep. When he’d arrived, she said Daniel had to go for a meeting with some of his friends that he couldn’t put off.

  It had taken most of his control not to make a remark about that.

  Daniel had been waiting for him when he got home after the disaster with Jessica. Luckily, the big man hadn’t asked what the grim look was about. And Kyle knew it was grim. Everything about him was grim, out of sorts. And new. He’d never been known for any kind of temper. Nothing ever mattered enough to deter him. Now he was crackling with repressed energy, unable to use any of it.

  He didn’t like how anger felt, that was for damn sure. He’d had an inner ear infection when he was thirteen and swore that he was leaning at a forty-five degree angle the whole time. This was the same, but worse. At least then it had been funny.

  Even with all that, it didn’t get past him that Daniel was tense about something. No doubt his meeting about his shipment. There were more phone calls in the night, Kyle knew from the rumbled voice he didn’t bother to eavesdrop on. What would be the point? If he got caught, Daniel would just kill him or do something equally painful.

  He couldn’t call the police, he had no evidence of anything but a midnight phone call.

  About anything, really. Not even himself.

  So he’d come here and tried to feel normal with Dory. Part of him wanted to ask her advice, that selfish part which until recently hadn’t measured the slightest twinge on his conscience’s Richter scale. The rest of him just wanted to be with someone who didn’t dislike him, resent him or suspect him of anything. How sad that only Dory fit the bill.

  An hour into his vigil, a crotchety voice graveled out, “If you call me unhelpful this time, kid, I’ll get my son to knock the shit out of you.”

  Kyle reached for his small bouquet on the counter. “These are a little pathetic compared to the rosebush over there, but I thought you’d appreciate simple.”

  Dory’s craggy face scrunched as she groaned. “I’d appreciate a beer.”

  “Sorry, they’d never let me past security with that.”

  She smiled at the monstrous arrangement of roses on the shelf by the window. “Those are from Greggy.”

  “Groom?” Kyle managed to blank his face of surprise, but Dory’s smile was knowing.

  “Nothing like the threat of death to pull a man’s head out of his ass.” She frowned at him. “What happened to you, you look like twice-crapped shit.”

  “Thanks, I was hoping you’d appreciate the changes.”

  “Jessica still giving you a hard time?”

  Harder every time, he thought automatically.

  As if she heard him, Dory cackled.

  “For a cardiac patient, you’re in a good mood.”

  “I just like watching the dirty-minded think, is all.” She fussed with her bouquet. “Makes me wonder if that’s what I look like most of the time.”

  The smile wasn’t too hard to dredge up. “What makes you think I have a dirty mind?”

  “Oh, honey, I know the look of a devil. I dated enough of you in my day.” Her eyes went soft before she sighed, as if the memories didn’t last long enough.

  “Your day…that was last week, wasn’t it?”

  “Don’t I wish. No, sorry to say, my dates with devils ended about fifteen years ago. Now I’m into tame, trainable men.”

  “Well, then, as soon as you get out of here, you’re my girl.”

  She laughed and though she checked the door several times to see if Daniel was returning, she did a good impression of herself for the next hour and a half. Then she dozed to sleep.

  He grabbed a coffee and stayed with her. It was kind of nice there, on that uncomfortable chair, where all he had to do was watch her breathe and think about nothing else. Not sexy brunettes with streaks of red in their hair. Not terrified women with longing in their eyes. He
especially didn’t have to think about passionate kisses and making love behind a desk because they couldn’t wait a second longer.

  “…er, there’s some muscle damage, but nothing that will impair her permanently.” The low drone of Dory’s doctor speaking outside the room caught Kyle’s ear.

  The lower rumble of Daniel’s reply had him putting down the cup and getting to his feet. Careful not to wake her, Kyle stood up and slipped out of the room. The two of them were talking, looking down at the doctor’s clipboard, heads nearly together and both frowning at what they saw.

  “So you’re saying that she’s—”

  “She’s going to have to take it very easy from now on. She’ll recover, but her lifestyle is going to have to change considerably.”

  Daniel raised his head, nodding at Kyle in acknowledgement. “Will she need nursing?”

  “Probably not, but I’m anticipating at least another angioplasty and some rigorous changes to her medication. I don’t want to be more specific than that. For now, she’s maintaining a stable condition. We’ll be keeping her, of course, for observation and treatment, but I think we can safely say she’s out of immediate danger.”

  “Thank you, doctor.” Daniel offered his hand, for the first time smiling so genuinely that Kyle had a little trouble reconciling him with the menace to society he’d been painting in his head all night and day. The doctor patted his biceps with the back of the clipboard and moved on.

  “So she’s clear?” Kyle asked once they were alone.

  “For the time being, yeah.” Daniel’s eyes had an unexpected sheen that he wiped away with the edge of his denim sleeve. As he did so, he noticed the time on his leather strap of a wristwatch. “Damn, I have to go.”

  “What?” Kyle asked, shocked. “Go where? You haven’t even seen Dory yet.”

  “There’s somewhere I have to be. Mom knows about it, she’s not expecting me back until tomorrow. She didn’t hear me out here, did she?” He looked beyond Kyle to the room’s open door.

  “She’s sleeping,” Kyle confirmed blankly. That was it? He was really going to just run off and leave her waiting?