by J. R. Ward
It was deep enough to qualify as a lap pool, and she could just imagine what the water would feel like.
“So who’d you buy this from?” she said as they went back to the first floor.
Soot was leading the charge, his nails clipping down the bare, creaking steps in hops.
“It hasn’t been lived in in forever. It was in a trust and the woman who had the life estate lived for decades in a nursing home. I look at it as a long-term project. I shouldn’t have bought it, but sometimes you just do things.”
“You must have bought it after . . . the fire.”
“When I got out of the rehab hospital. I needed something to do.”
“I get that.”
“So you wanna meet the problem?”
He took her out the kitchen’s back door, and that was when she got a load of what he was talking about. The bank or whoever had been looking after the property had only paid attention to the front. Everything behind the house was a tangled mess—or had been. He’d obviously been hard at work, piles of brambles, vines, and saplings grouped here and there around an old barn, what appeared to be an icehouse, and then a storage building.
As Soot wandered over to a bush and did his business, she shook her head. “We are going to need more than just a day.”
When she realized what she’d said, she shook her head. “You’re going to need that, I mean.”
* * *
It wasn’t until Danny saw Anne step up onto the porch that he realized he’d bought the house for her.
In some crazy, delusional part of his mind, he’d seen it advertised in the back of the New Brunswick Post one Sunday and decided to do it. He’d had to stretch to make the money work, but it was amazing what he’d saved living in that shit hole with the boys.
“Where are the saws?” Anne asked.
“In the barn, come on.”
The sunshine was warm on his face and the air was cool on his bare arms. Having Anne at his side paled even the splendor of the morning.
Sliding back the barn door, he spooked a couple of doves from the rafters. “Here’s what I got.” He showed her the array laid out on two rough boards between a pair of sawhorses. “Choose your weapon.”
He was not surprised she went right for one of the chain saws, picking the heavy weight up with her right hand and steadying it was her prosthesis. As she warmed up with it, he could tell she was testing out how she would handle things, making sure she could retain control before she cranked the power on.
“I brought a couple of different prostheses options,” she murmured as she braced her legs and moved the static blade through the air. “But I think this will work fine.”
I love you, he thought.
Instead of speaking his mind, he grabbed the other chain saw and gave her ear protection. “You ready?”
She nodded as she put in her bright orange plugs. Then frowned. “I’m wondering if I shouldn’t secure Soot with his whizzer lead. What if he spooks.”
“Believe it or not, it’s all fenced in. See the gate over there? Well, the gate under those bushes.”
She looked in the direction he pointed, and he got to enjoy the way the sunshine streaming into the barn, hazy with fine dust, bathed her in golden light.
“I walked the line this morning soon as I got here because you said you were bringing him. It’s a wire fence, but it’s sound and he can’t get over it or through it. Also, no barbs, so he won’t get hurt.”
She glanced down at the dog. “You hear that? You can roam. Don’t worry about the noise.”
They walked out and agreed to concentrate on the northern edge of the acreage. Taking posts about fifteen feet apart, they got the chains going, and then it was a high-pitched whine duet. He checked on her a couple of times and then just worked along with her, him heading to the left, her to the right, the distance between them growing as the debris they created multiplied.
Soot was the perfect supervisor. He picked a shady spot by the back door, lying on the cool cement step, but did not put his head down. He watched them the whole time, as if he were ready to intercede if whatever protocol he was measuring them against was violated.
Phase two was hauling, and Anne took off her navy blue fleece for that, her Under Armour shirt contouring her torso. She worked without slowing, her body honed by exercise, her focus so total, he wondered what she was working through in her head. And then it was back to the saws. And more with the hauling.
They broke for lunch, eating the subs he’d gotten on the way in and talking about nothing in particular. And then it was four in the afternoon.
She cut her engine first and wiped her forehead on the back of her hand.
He knew it was getting late, the sun was fading and the work was adding up, and he wanted her to stay the night even though all he had was an air mattress upstairs that smelled like a latex glove and no food.
Anne surveyed the wide swath they’d cut, the thin stumps poking out of an acre or two of now fresh dirt the stubble of the earth.
“We got more done than I thought.”
“Still plenty to do. Not that I’m saying we have to keep going.”
“Good. Because I’ll be the first to admit, my shoulders and arms are shot.”
All Danny could do was stare at her. Her lips were moving, and it was clear she was talking, but emotion had jammed up his brain.
“Danny. I asked you a question.”
“Huh?”
“Why are you staring at me like that?”
He looked away. ”You know why.”
She cleared her throat. “I, ah . . . I guess it’s time to go.”
“Yeah. You better head out.”
They took the chain saws back to the barn and removed their work gloves. He’d got a burn on the back of his neck, and it felt good to get the plugs out of his ears. Soot came over and sniffed around, but he largely stuck with Anne, and Danny liked that.
A woman alone in that house of hers? It was good to know she had somebody looking out for her with those kinds of teeth.
Not that the dog seemed aggressive at all. Then again, nothing was threatening her.
“Are you staying here?” she asked as they went into the house.
He cracked another water bottle and gave Soot a refresher in his collapsible bowl. “Maybe. But I don’t know, I’m on shift tomorrow morning, and the commute is bad at rush coming into the city.”
“Yeah.” She looked at the ceiling. “I get it.”
As she continued to stare up there, he wondered if she’d seen a leak he’d missed or something.
Then he did the math. “Yes. You can. And I’ll give you all the privacy you want.”
chapter
37
As Anne went upstairs, she felt her body in a new way, and not just because she’d been doing hard physical labor all afternoon. Soot was by her side, although when they got to the top, he seemed conflicted given that there was someone he cared about on the first floor as well.
She was also very aware Danny was downstairs in the kitchen, drinking water from a bottle by the sink.
“You can lay down here,” she murmured, leaning down to pat the floor at the head of the steps. “That way you can monitor everyone.”
He took the advice and curled up in a ball, his head lowering as he seemed to keep one eye on her and the other on the front door downstairs.
The bathroom was aglow in warm afternoon light, the fine dust swirling in the diffused, filtered sunshine in a lazy way as if the air were water with a gentle current. As she went over and cranked the faucets, she half expected to have to call Danny because things didn’t work.
And she was disappointed when she didn’t have to.
Water, clear and soon warm, cascaded into the deep basin, the rush explosive, the pressure old-school, when things like conservation hadn’t
been on anyone’s radar. Bending over, she swished things around to rinse off the bottom and sides, but someone had either used it recently or cleaned it because it wasn’t that dirty.
Turning the water off, she swished everything toward the drain so she could start fresh. And as she pictured herself naked and sinking in under the level . . .
Ripkin’s nasty voice went rugby on her mind, barging in, all elbows and hard knocks.
The sound of something heavy coming up the stairs brought her head around. Through the open door, she saw Danny hesitate before making the turn around the banister.
He stopped. “I heard the water go off. Is something wrong?”
His eyes were hooded, his body tense.
Straightening, she couldn’t help but stare at his hips as Ripkin’s subversion got louder and louder.
“No,” she said as she turned the water on again. “Everything is fine.”
Before she could think too much, she took the bottom of her shirt and pulled it up and over her head. Tight as it was, her breasts bounced free as she hadn’t worn a bra, and then she went for her work pants. The thick fabric and heavy-duty zipper went easy and then she was stripping off everything, her panties included.
Danny’s eyes were hot on her skin and his body responded, his erection thickening up quick.
She paused as she went to remove her prosthesis. Fear rose up even as she told herself this wasn’t a reveal. This wasn’t . . . anything different than any other part of her.
The lie didn’t stick. Her heart pounded as she released her static appendage and removed the sock. It took all her self-control not to put her arm behind her back, and she had to hang her head.
All of this was stupid, of course. If you looked for validation from other people, by definition they could take that away if they chose. The safest path, as always, was to be your own rock, your own harbor, your own shelter.
Am I okay? should only ever be answered by the person asking that question.
The trouble was, if you had to make the inquiry, by definition you didn’t know. And after all these months of battling her way back from the fire, solving problems, healing her body, finding her way . . . she hadn’t thought much about what the loss of her hand meant to her as a woman.
Maybe she’d deliberately not considered it.
But that which she had avoided, Ripkin had ferreted out and exposed, a new wound that required tending to.
And the truth was, there was only one person she could do this with, show this part of herself to. Regardless of all the stay-aways she put between them . . . she couldn’t imagine getting over this hurdle with anybody else.
Danny had all kinds of weaknesses and bad news sides to him, but one thing he had never done was let her down when it counted.
God, she felt like they were back in that hot spot together, flames all around, death prowling. Just the two of them, their resources, their ability to work together. And like in that crucial moment, she needed him to help save her. As much as she wanted to rely on herself, she couldn’t do this alone.
Am I still whole?
* * *
Danny’s eyes watered.
As he looked at the beautiful woman before him, her lowered head and the awkward way she held her arm off to the side gauged into his chest.
But at least what she was looking for from him was something that was easy to give.
Walking forward, he reached over and turned off the water. Then he put trembling hands on her shoulders and slowly drew them down her upper arms. She stiffened as he got to her elbows, but she did not pull away.
He waited until her eyes swung up to his own. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
By way of answer, he dropped his head and began to kiss her. When he felt her mouth finally relax against his, he moved her arms up to his shoulders, stroking them.
Her body was lithe strength, everything smooth under his palms as he drew her against himself. He loved the feel of her hips, the dip in the small of her back . . . her ass, so tight as it filled his hands. Most of all, he loved the trust she was putting in him.
Breaking the contact at their mouths, he pulled the tie out of her hair and fanned the brunette rush around her shoulders. Then he traced her features with his fingertips, her cheeks, her nose, her mouth, her chin. The column of her throat was a path he followed to the wings of her cheekbones . . . and then he went lower, teasing her nipples with a soft touch, first on one and then the other. Anne began to breathe harder, her front teeth biting into her lower lip.
Farther down, still. To her belly . . .
Lower. To her sex.
She gasped as he slipped his hand between her legs, and he took over from there, wrapping an arm around her and bending her back so he supported her weight. As he kissed her again, he stroked at her wet core, so slippery, so hot.
“Anne,” he whispered against her lips.
“Yes . . . ?”
“Do you want to know how I feel when I see you like this? Do you want to know what looking at you does to me? What my dreams at night are like and my fantasies during the day?”
There was the faintest trace of fear in her stare as she looked up at him.
When she finally nodded, he put his mouth back on hers, licked his way inside of her . . . and made her come so hard she gasped his name, her hand clawing into his shoulder.
Sometimes, it was best to show, not tell.
As she cried out, he held her and kissed her and told her he loved her in his head. And when she was finished, he picked her up and lowered her into the warm water. She went lax against the back of the tub, her body loosening under the undulating waves, her lids lowering as she relaxed.
“Don’t you need a bath, too?” she asked.
Say. No. More.
If not for the fact that Danny had nothing else to wear, he would have torn his fucking clothes off. Instead, he bitched internally at the two minutes it took to whip off his muscle shirt, kick of his boots, and lose his pants.
As he joined her, water splashed out onto the floor, but he didn’t care. He was going to redo the floor up here anyway. Maybe the ceiling down below, too, now.
He wouldn’t have cared if he’d had to raze the entire damn house.
Cupping water in his palms, he brought it to her shoulders, letting the warmth flow over her. He did the same with her sternum, the level licking at her nipples, leaving them a glistening wet that nearly had him orgasming. He carried more to her upper arm, her elbow . . .
The place where he had cut her.
When he went to touch what was left of her forearm, he wondered if she would stop him. She didn’t. She just watched him take the blunt end into his hands.
His eyes teared up again as he relived bringing that axe down on a part of her precious body. He could see the remnants of the infection’s ravages; the skin across the end was bumpy and discolored.
“It doesn’t hurt,” she said quietly.
Well, it was agony for him.
Drawing her arm up, he kissed the inside of her elbow, where the blue veins ran down, and stroked her skin with his thumb. Then he went lower with his lips as he cradled her limb in his hands.
“It must have been hell,” he said hoarsely. He had been through pain, but losing a spleen, what did that matter? At least when he’d been hurting, he’d known that when he came back from that stretch of torture, he was going to be himself again.
Physically, that was. Mentally, he hadn’t been right—although how much of a change was that?
“I don’t remember much of the infection. But it’s true what they say about phantom limb pain. It’s terrible. I could feel my hand and my palm, even though they weren’t there.”
It had been the same for him back at the stationhouse when he’d returned. He’d seen her at every turn, in the break room, the bunk roo
m, on the engines and the ladders. He’d heard her voice, caught the scent of her shampoo.
And yet she was not there, and it had been agony every time reality had come crashing back to him, reminding him that she was gone.
“Sometimes I still can.”
It took him a minute to catch up with what she was saying. “Does it wake you up at night?”
“Yes.”
He knew how that went. It was why he drank so much. The alcohol helped him get through the dark hours when his brain insisted on running through that series of events like somewhere, in those memories, there was the treasure he searched for.
Forgiveness.
“Kiss me,” she said.
He would have given her the world. That all she wanted was something he would have begged her for was more than he deserved.
They ended up with her straddling him, her thighs split around his hips, the tub big enough to accommodate them. Sitting her up straight, he took one of her nipples into his mouth and held her core against him through the warm water. As she arched, he entered her and they both groaned.
Anne rode him slow, and as he leaned back into the curve and cupped her breasts, he had never seen a woman so captivating, the fading light making her glow.
Or maybe that was her soul.
Before he got lost in the orgasming, he said, “I need to tell you something you’re not going to want to hear.”
She stopped. “What.”
Brushing some of her wet hair back, he picked the lesser of two not-so-hots. “I don’t want this to be the last time.”
chapter
38
On Monday, Anne dropped Soot off with Don at the office and proceeded over to SWAT headquarters. Having been born and bred in New Brunswick, and then having worked on the fire service, she knew every nook and cranny of the city
It took her three tries to find the sprawling, unmarked building out by the airport. Talk about hiding in plain sight. With all the airplane hangars, UPS storage facilities, and shipping businesses, the SWAT team’s base was just one more metal-sided, flat-roofed location.