by L. A. Fiore
“That’s not a hardship, but why do you have to call Damian? Is it related to what Cam is investigating?”
“Yes. They told you?”
“He hadn’t intended to share, but I’m Rosalie Ahern.”
“You badgered him until he cried uncle.”
“Exactly.”
“So you know that yoga man—”
“Is one of Damian’s, yes I know.”
“What is yoga man’s real name?”
“Mark,” Mom said, looking a little worried.
“Are you okay?”
“What, that Cam is looking into your Dad’s old cases? Yeah, I remember your dad right before…he had been working late a lot and was rather disheartened. If Cam can bring to light whatever that trouble was, I’m all for it as long as he is being smart about it.”
“I think he is being smart.”
“I know he is. He has Anton and Damian watching his back and ours.”
“True. Be careful, watchful.”
“Are you kidding? In our neighborhood? People know what’s happening to you before you do. We’ll be covered.”
Yeah, they would be.
She pulled me close. “I love you, Thea.”
“I love you too.”
She took my hands into hers. “And Damian? What’s going on with you two?”
“What we felt as kids is still there, but stronger. And I love him. I’ve always loved him. Getting a chance to be with him, the man he is now. I’ve waited a long time for him and he was worth waiting for.”
Her smile took up her whole face. “I thought so. The sparks between you are like the Fourth of July.” She squeezed my hands. “I’m glad something good came out of this.”
“Me too.”
She started for the door. “I need to introduce Miranda to yoga man.”
Poor Mark, he would forever be yoga man to Mom and me.
“If you get her doing yoga, you have to call me. That is something I need to see. I’ll help you get her packed.”
“She’d like that, so would I.”
Mrs. Cooke was going through her photo albums when we entered her apartment. She loved her photo albums because they were filled with pictures of her husband. I hated seeing the bruises on her face, knowing it could have ended so much worse. She was looking through an album that was older than ones I’d seen before.
“What have you got there?” I asked as I settled next to her on the sofa.
“Have I not shown you this?”
“No, I don’t think so.” I pulled the book over so it sat on both of our laps.
Mom headed into the bedroom. “I’ll pack your bags.”
“Everything is already out on the bed.”
“Is that your husband? I didn’t know he was a cop, why didn’t I know he was a cop?”
“Oh yes. Mitchell was a cop for a few years before he retired.”
“Why did he retire?”
Clearly what she had to say was painful because her hands shook a little when she flipped the page. “We had had four miscarriages, both of us were convinced it was the stress of his job and we so wanted children. He didn’t hesitate to resign. His father and grandfather had been investment bankers, they wanted him to follow in their footsteps. He wanted to be a cop, but he quit and joined the firm for me…our family. As it turned out, it wasn’t the stress of the job.”
It seemed wrong that such a lovely woman had been denied a family, something I knew she very much wanted. We thought of her as such, I think she thought of us that way too.
“We’re not your blood, but you’re family to us.”
Her smile was a touch sad. “You are family to me too.”
“Okay, we’re good. We need to boogie, Miranda, or we’re missing happy hour.”
Happy hour was a tradition on our street. The neighbors poured themselves their beverage of choice and everyone mingled. It was a tradition I really liked. I would have joined them now, since it had been quite a long time since I had been to one, but I was looking forward to watching a movie and going to bed early.
I walked them to their cab, waved as they drove off. The postman was filling the boxes when I entered. I wondered if Mom had forwarded Mrs. Cooke’s mail. I would have to remind her to do that.
“Afternoon, Percy. Could I get my mail and Mrs. Cooke’s?”
“Sure thing, Thea.”
In my apartment, I locked my door and dropped the mail on the counter then retrieved my phone and remote—Chinese food and a movie. Now all I needed to make it the perfect night was Damian. We’d get there.
I stopped by Mom’s a week later and was greeted to the sight of Mrs. Cooke and five white-haired friends, hunched over playing cards drinking milk in lieu of whiskey.
“What’s going on here?”
“Bridge.” I was surprised at her abrupt answer, but then Mrs. Cooke realized it was me. “Thea, dear. It’s so good to see you.”
“And you. You’re in the zone.”
“I am.” She was a card shark; her eyes were shining in victory. “I see you’re fitting right in.”
“Indeed.” But her focus was on her game and I would hate to be the reason she didn’t clean house.
“I’m going to hunt down Mom.”
“She is in the kitchen. That lovely Guy fellow is over.”
Uncle Guy. I hadn’t seen him since the charity event. “Don’t take all of their money, Mrs. Cooke.”
“But it’s just so easy.” That earned her looks and grunts from around the table. I was laughing when I entered the kitchen. Mom and Uncle Guy were sitting around the kitchen table, drinking coffee.
“Hey.”
Mom turned then stood for a hug. “What a lovely surprise. Would you like coffee?”
“Thanks, but I had my two cups for the day.” I limited myself to two cups or else I’d be drinking the stuff all day long.
“So what’s new with you?” Uncle Guy asked as he claimed a hug. We settled at the table.
“I wanted to see how Mrs. Cooke was doing, but she looks like she’s having the time of her life.”
“She’s got a ruthless streak, that one. It’s a little scary.” Mom said feigning a shudder.
“I just witnessed a bit of that.”
“And you? How are you?”
“I’m good. I miss my neighbor, but I’m happy she’s adjusting so well. It’s nice to see you, Uncle Guy. How’s the detective business?”
A strange look moved over his face but it was gone so fast I wasn’t sure I had actually seen it. “It’s a lot of work, shocking some of the cases you see, but rewarding when you tie all the pieces up and hand it over to the DA.”
“I bet.”
Mom reached for her coffee. “You saved me a call. I have a friend whose son is interested in graphic design. He’s been dragging his feet since he graduated college and his parents are trying to get him to make a decision on his career.”
“Dragging his feet. How long as he been out of college?”
“Four years.”
“Let me guess. He’s living in their basement.”
I totally saw the answer on Mom’s face, but she tried to sugarcoat it. “He’s not as bad as that.”
Uncle Guy and I shared a look.
Mom confessed, “Oh, all right. He’s a twit, but would you talk with him?”
“Fine.”
“Good. Friday at Seven at Delaney’s. His name is Kit.”
“You already set it up?”
“Millie can be quite determined.”
“Not determined enough to get her son out of her basement.”
Mom grinned over the rim of her cup. “Touché.”
It was Friday and I met Kit at Delaney’s, but only a few minutes into the evening and I knew I had been hoodwinked.
Kit started the evening by suggesting we blow off dinner and head to a club. I didn’t understand how a club would be conducive to talking, but he didn’t want to talk. He was on the prowl. Luckily I was not the focus of his a
ttention, but it did mean I got dressed in my business-like attire for nothing. Plus I was hungry because we had skipped dinner.
“Hey, you don’t mind if I take off with Candy here, do you?”
Candy, seriously? Her name was Candy. I bet with an i and a heart over it. “No, by all means please…”
My phone interrupted us, thank God. It was Damian calling; he saved me a call. It had been decided that I could attend this meeting without the need of a shadow. I had been dropped off though, with instructions to call when I was done.
“Perfect tim—”
“Are you still at Tansy’s?” I had called him earlier to share we had changed venues.
“Yes.”
“Stay inside, by the bar, and wait for me. I’m only ten minutes away.”
It was his tone that had fear running like ice through my veins. “What’s wrong?”
“Just stay visible.”
“What’s happened?”
“By the bar, Thea. No bathroom, I’ll be right there.”
My hand actually shook when I put my phone away. Kit and his hook-up were gone. Damian wanted me by the bar so I walked on unsteady legs toward it and grabbed an empty stool at the end. The bartender appeared—long hair pulled back into a ponytail, a full beard and mustache, and tats down his arms. But it was the size of him that comforted because it wasn’t likely anyone would approach with him near.
“What can I get you, babe?”
“Just water, please.”
“You got it.”
He placed the water before me and flashed a smile. “You need anything, I’m Sully.”
That was good to know. “Thank you.”
All kinds of scenarios bombarded me and with each one I grew more and more scared. Before I went into freak-out mode, Damian appeared. It was the manner in which he appeared though that was alarming.
“We need to go.” But Damian was already pulling me from the club and at a pace I couldn’t keep up with.
“I can’t walk that fast.”
His head jerked back to me and I honestly think he was contemplating tossing me over his shoulder. He didn’t though; he slowed his pace but not by much. We hit the front of the club and I tried to pull free, but he wasn’t letting go.
“You are going to rip my arm out of the socket. What is going on?”
“Someone took a shot at Cam. He’s fine.”
The only thing that kept me together was his hand wrapped around mine, without that I might have shaken apart. “Where is he?”
“At the precinct. He’s fine. Pissed as hell though.”
Thinking about Dad, the possibility that history was repeating itself, I grew hysterical. Mom, did she know? Someone should be with her.
“Mom?”
“She doesn’t know.”
Tears fell as I tried to pull from Damian. “Thea, he’s fine.”
“I’m not losing him too.”
His hand tightened on mine at the same time I saw his jaw clench. He yanked me into a bar a few doors down from where we had just been and pulled me back toward the bathrooms. He pushed me up against the wall. “Thea, calm down. He’s fine.”
“He could have died.”
“He didn’t.” He moved into me as he curled his big body around mine. “I won’t let anything happen to him or you.”
I wanted to press my face against his chest, to borrow some of his strength. Tears burned my eyes as my body shook in fear.
“Thea.” There was so much emotion in that one word. He wrapped my face in his hands as his thumb brushed over my cheek. And then he rocked my world when he closed the distance between us and captured my mouth with his. All my questions and fears evaporated when his lips touched mine. The kiss started as a diversion to calm me, but after so many years of waiting and wanting it turned very real as everything, including the trouble that led us here, faded. His hands moved down my body to my thighs as he lifted me and pressed his body deeper into mine, but he still wasn’t close enough. I curled my legs around his waist and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. His cock was hard and hitting me right where I ached, our bodies moving together in that ageless dance. His mouth moved to my neck where his teeth grazed my skin as his hips continued to grind into me. I dug my nails into his shoulders right before I came and when the orgasm crashed over me I had to bite my lip to keep from screaming. He didn’t stop, his hips continued to move against me to prolong the pleasure and it was pleasure, a pleasure so intense it brought tears to my eyes. The Pandora’s box in my mind flew open and every heartbreakingly beautiful detail, every feeling and every memory, came flooding back.
Damian had stopped moving, his eyes were closed and there was such stark desire on his face and yet he denied himself the release we both knew he wanted and needed.
I cradled his face in my hands “Why?” I whispered.
“I’ve waited a long time for you. When I come, it’ll be inside you.” His eyes opened, those pale eyes dark like an emerald. “And once won’t be enough.”
Before I could reply he kissed me again…deep, wet and perfect. I didn’t so much unwrap my legs from his waist as they just went boneless. He lowered me to my feet, but he didn’t release his hold on me until he knew I had my balance.
“Give me a minute.”
He was as affected by our kiss as me and the wanton part of me wanted to be reckless, wanted to drop down to my knees right there, but instead I attempted to distract him in another way. “I watched a video of a snake eating a rabbit. It was disgusting seeing the whole rabbit moving down the snake’s body.”
It was a little known fact that badass, ex-Green Beret Damian Tate was not a fan of snakes.
He knew what I was doing when his head tilted and I got a crooked grin. “Nice try.”
“I can help you with that. I really want to help you with that.”
And he really wanted my help by the hot possessive look that swept his face. “Rain check.”
Best rain check ever. “Are you okay?”
“Manageable.”
He pulled me from the bar.
“If exercise felt like that I would do it every day, all day long.”
His hand tightened on mine. “Not helping.”
“Right. Sorry.”
It was only after we reached his car that I began to recall the events that led up to the best orgasm of my life while fully clothed. Damian was thinking about the troubling events too because as soon as he pulled from the curb he said, “You’re staying at my place tonight.”
For just a second I thought he wanted to finish what we had started, but by the way he held the steering wheel in a death grip that seemed unlikely. It had been a long time since I had been in Damian’s domain and I really wanted to see where he lived and how he lived now.
“Okay.” The troubling news about Cam couldn’t be ignored. “What happened tonight?”
“He was returning to the station when someone took a shot at him.”
I went numb. Someone was copying my dad’s murder. “He’s okay?”
“Yes. We think it was a warning.”
“And related to Dad.”
“Yes.
It was shock that kept me from completely flipping out. Cam was okay. I repeated that over and over again in my head. I could dwell and really freak myself out, but me losing it wasn’t going to help the situation. I tried to distract myself.
We reached his gym. I had noticed the apartment above it and wasn’t surprised to learn Damian lived there. He pulled around back to the spot that must have been his designated spot because it was where he had been parked that night I stalked him.
“You are not worried about leaving this car in this neighborhood.”
“It helps when people know whose car it is.”
Right. He was an ex-special ops badass. People probably gave him a wide berth. There was a door at the back of the building that led to stairs. Damian hit the lights in his apartment and I just took it all in because it was awesome. Open floor pla
n, like a converted warehouse. All the rooms flowed together into each other except the bedroom, which I guessed was behind the barn door at the far end of the space. The décor was very urban with lots of metal and reclaimed wood. A huge television took up one quarter of the floor plan; a large leather sofa shared the space. The kitchen was smooth lines, concrete countertops and stainless steel appliances. The difference between this and his first apartment was like night and day. Yet I found I preferred his old place because we had made some really great memories within its walls.
He stood with his hands pushed into the front pockets of his jeans and he looked as vulnerable as I had ever seen him. An ache started in my chest because to look at him he seemed invincible and yet under that was the boy with the sad eyes who had irrevocably changed me. “This is amazing, but I still like your old place best.”
Understanding moved over his face as the sweetest smile touched his lips. “Yeah, that place was pretty great.”
I wanted to kiss him, and I knew he had read my mind when his sweet smile turned wicked. He abruptly changed the subject. “The bedroom and bath are back there.”
“I would like to take a shower if that’s okay.”
He growled then muttered, “I’m a fucking saint.”
I wanted to giggle. Mom was right; he was adorable especially when he was sexually repressed. He started across the room, taking my hand as he passed. “I’ll grab you some clothes.”
The memory drifted into my mind, the day in the rain after we had made love for the first time. He had gotten me wet and naked and after he gave me a pair of boxers and a t-shirt to wear while we waited for my clothes to dry. I kept them, stole them was more accurate, shoved them in my backpack when he wasn’t looking. I sometimes slept in them when I wanted to feel closer to him.
He didn’t walk with me to the bathroom, the man had his limit and I suspected we had passed his. He headed for the kitchen and I was just closing the door when he said, “You are safe here.”
I glanced up to see he had stopped, his head twisted and I had his complete focus.
“I never questioned that.”
I closed the door then pressed my forehead to it and tried to calm my wildly beating heart before I stripped and climbed under the spray. The showerhead was one of those rainwater ones and Damian’s soap, the subtle scent of it on my skin had my senses on overload. Once I changed into his clothes, clothes I wasn’t giving back, I rolled up my dress and left it on his hamper. He was in the kitchen on the phone when I joined him. He held the phone out to me.