Temporary Home

by Aliyah Burke

  Not much later, Eric walked in, still appearing a bit sleepy. “Morning, Sam,” the boy said.

  “Eric.”

  He studied the room. “Where’s Aunt Roxi?”

  “She got called to work early this morning.”

  A flash of emotion filled Eric’s face. He knew the look. Concern.

  “She said she’d be back as soon as she can. And that we’re to start breakfast without her.”

  That seemed to be what Eric needed to hear for he nodded and smiled. “We usually do waffles the day after Thanksgiving. Can you make them? I know where the iron is.”

  Never had before, but he’d do his best. “Why waffles over pancakes?” He was curious.

  Eric’s grin lit up his entire face. “Aunt Roxi says they’re better because they have little pockets to hold your syrup and butter. She says pancakes just can’t compare.”

  “Waffles it is then.” Made sense why she’d made them before as opposed to pancakes.

  Eric knew where everything was and soon Sam was holding a box of mix as his helper grabbed the bowl. It didn’t take long and he had the batter whipped up. After first measuring the one out, he poured it on the heated iron. He closed the lid, watching as Eric set plates beside them then grabbed syrup from the fridge.

  “This gets heated.” He handed Sam the syrup.

  “All right.”

  He made waffles for Roxi as well in case she made it back before lunch. The hot links he found in the fridge were cooked up as well and it didn’t take long until he and Eric were sitting down and eating, like only hungry men could. The boy had orange juice before him along with a glass of milk. Sam had juice and coffee.

  A funny shiver went down his spine and he peered up to see Roxi leaning against the doorway into the kitchen. She looked tired but beautiful. Her hair cascaded around her face, hiding the shadows under her eyes.

  “Any left for me?” she asked, hope in her words.

  “Aunt Roxi!” Eric said with a grin. “Sam made me waffles.”

  “I see that.” Her warm brown eyes moved back to his face and she gave him the slightest of grins.

  He got to his feet and fixed her a plate, heating the waffles then placing the food on the table, beside her nephew and again, across from him. It was fast becoming a favourite pastime of his, watching her. She was so expressive. His Roxi was such a strong woman, fiercely protective of those she cared for, and from what he could tell, she cared for a lot of people.

  But there were a few times, usually when she watched her nephew, that she got this almost wistful look on her face. Everything about her softened and he couldn’t see a Marine, a security officer, all he could see was woman. And it called to him, deep down. He wanted to protect her, gather her close, and fight all her battles for her.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  He saw the tension in her shoulders as she sat down. She was wearing a white T-shirt and jeans. There was an image of Calvin and Hobbes on her top. He read the words and shook his head, amused.

  She ate and offered to clean up. He sat in his chair and watched her after Eric left them alone. Sliding his chair back, he rose and joined her at the sink.

  “You look tired.”

  “Yeah, I am. Thanks for fixing him breakfast. I know how much he loves his waffles.”

  He inhaled and allowed the tantalising scent of autumn to flow over him. “He tells me you’re the one who prefers waffles to pancakes because of the pockets in them.”

  “He’s right. I do. But thank you still, for keeping an eye on him.”

  “Not a problem.” He couldn’t resist anymore and reached out to tuck some of her hair behind her ear. When she moved away from his touch, he frowned. Did she suddenly not wish for him to touch her?

  She glanced at him and said, “I’m sorry, Sam. I don’t want Eric to make up or think there’s anything between us.”

  He nodded and stepped back. His mind raced with the words she’d just spoken. Make up or think…what did that mean? He opened his mouth to ask but snapped it shut instead. This was neither the time nor the place for this conversation. He watched how stiffly she held herself and paid no heed to the unpleasant feeling which coursed through him at the knowledge this may just be a fling for her.

  You have no claim on her, he told himself, gathering the rest of the items from the table. A denial from deep within his soul roared at him. It shocked him—why was he suddenly caring about a relationship? True, he didn’t go out and fuck anything that moved, he had way more discretion than that, but never once had he allowed real emotions into the picture.

  Until Roxi.

  Something clenched around his heart and he recognised the foul caress and stench of fear. She scared him. This woman had the ability to get him to care deeply for her. That in turn meant she wielded the power to eviscerate him as well, leaving him a shell of a man again.

  It was his turn to stiffen. He wasn’t about to go out that way. He had to protect himself. This was why he couldn’t afford attachments. He didn’t trust anyone with that type of power over him.

  Still, he couldn’t help but be drawn to Roxi. There was this magnetic quality about her that pulled him. He wanted to know more about her. He wanted more, period. Another clench around his heart. With a deep breath, he told himself it was nothing more than two people enjoying one another. Nothing more personal than that.

  Like sleeping with another person, being intimate with them, isn’t personal.

  Okay, so his brain and subconscious really needed to shut their traps and keep opinions to themselves. He didn’t need to think about it that way. Sex could just be sex. And sex with Roxi was…well…oh so nice.

  The scent of her skin, the feel of her curves against him. Her tight sheath around his shaft. Those silken walls inside her heated, velvet core.

  “Sam?”

  He bit back a groan as his cock rose swiftly to life. Roxi was beside him. No, not beside, partially in front of, and her gaze was directed at his lower anatomy. The heat in her brown eyes was such that it burned him. His cock jerked as he read the blatant desire on her face. He almost lost his meagre hold on his control when she licked her lips.

  “Roxi.” His voice was raspy and full of his own need for her.

  Her gaze jumped to his and she gulped hard before blinking a few times. “Um, wanted to know if you would like to join Eric and I. We’re going to the hospital to visit Master Guns.”

  It took him a few seconds to process what she’d said. His mind was firmly wrapped around his desire to take her up against the nearest wall. Thrusting hard and fast. Slow and deep. Until her nails dug into his back and she screamed his name as they came together in a fiery ball of passion.

  But sink in it did. Hospital. Master Guns. “I’d like that, thanks. Let me just…go change.”

  Her stare drifted down to his crotch again and he watched her swallow. Hard. Dear Lord in heaven, she was going to kill him. All without a single touch. Sam left the room before he gave into his desires.

  “You coming with us?” Eric asked as he went by.

  “Sure am. Just going to shower quickly.” He grabbed some clothes from his bag without paying much attention to them and headed for the bathroom. Stepping in the shower, he released a frustrated groan and rested balled fists on the walls. His breaths were deep and uneven.

  Never before had he felt so out of control with his emotions. The sexual pull towards Roxi was powerful and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could resist it, regardless of the boy being in the house. Surely they could be quiet.

  He showered and got out after quickly jacking off to thoughts of how amazing it had been to be buried balls deep inside Roxi. His release had barely taken the edge off his raw need for her. Forcing himself to calm down, he dried off and dressed. After he’d shaved, he left to find Roxi and Eric waiting for him in the living room.

  Roxi wore the same thing except she’d put her hair up off her neck. They both rose when he walked in.

  “I
’ll drive,” he said, opening the door to the garage.

  He’d partially been expecting an argument from Roxi but none came. After Eric was in they backed out of the garage. He idled in the drive until the garage door lowered then he got on the way. The ride was silent and he knew that Roxi had dozed off so he kept quiet. Eric just looked out of the window.

  At the hospital, he watched her come fully awake after he’d parked the large truck. Her eyes snapped around as she gauged the situation before she seemed to settle. He didn’t remark on it, knowing full well he did the same thing. It told him a bit more about her—she’d seen combat while she’d served.

  They walked in together and took the elevator up to the room. He knocked on the door and just before he opened it, stopped. Roxi had slipped her hand into his and gave it a quick but reassuring squeeze. As fast as she’d put her hand there she took it away. They entered the room.

  Roxi let him go through first, she and Eric following behind. He approached the bed, staring down at the man who meant so much to him. His skin had paled considerably and he just looked so damn weak lying there, it tore at him.

  Dean opened his eyes and a smile filled his wizened face. “Sam.” The voice was but a fraction of what it used to be—however, it was still full of love.

  “How are you today, Dean?”

  “I’ll be out by Christmas.”

  Lord, he hoped so. And not to be fitted for a pine box. “Up for some visitors?”

  “Always.”

  Sam waved them closer. Roxi walked up beside him—not on the other side of the bed, no, she moved beside him—and pressed a kiss to Dean’s cheek. “Good to see you awake, Master Guns.”

  “Roxanne. I’d begun to miss your beautiful face around here.”

  “I know, I’m sorry I haven’t come by more.”

  Dean turned his head to where Eric stood. “Good to see you again, Eric.”

  “You too, sir.”

  “Are you still at the academy?”

  “Yes, sir. Top of my class this year.”

  “Good for you, son. Good for you.” Dean looked back at Sam. “How’re things at Second Chances?”

  Leave it to Dean to worry about things other than himself. “You concentrate on getting better.”

  “Sam,” Dean warned.

  “Everything is fine. We’re almost finished with all the restorations. That large room will be all squared away for Christmas. I’m going to get a tree for them next week.”

  “So the painting’s all been done?”

  “Yes, sir. Roxi helped out and finished that while I fixed the bathrooms.” He touched Dean’s arm. “Please don’t worry about that. You need to focus on getting better.”

  “How’s Laila?”

  Shit. He’d not even thought about her today. He licked his lips and took a breath. Roxi brushed against him and he met her gaze.

  “We’ll give you some time to talk and be back in a bit.”

  He didn’t want her to go but somehow managed to nod. She reached between them and squeezed his hand again and immediately he felt better. Her strength had been added to his own. He’d faced death numerous times and had barely blinked, but to see Dean, his mentor, his father, lying so close to death, scared the hell out of him.

  Roxi smiled at Dean and took his hand as well. “I’ll be back to see you, Dean. Going to give you and Sam some time to talk. I think your room needs some flowers.”

  Just that like, she and Eric were gone.

  “Sit down, Sam.”

  He sat. “Laila is fine. I spent Thanksgiving with her yesterday. And your son and his brothers.”

  “Sam Hoch, you listen to me and listen well.”

  He straightened in the chair automatically at the firm tone. Years of doing so had his response so quick and instinctive, it didn’t matter that the man delivering the order lay swallowed up by a hospital bed.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Look at me, son.” The order no less present but the tone softer, somehow.

  He did. Immediately he found the dark brown eyes belonging to a man he’d respected above all others watching him.

  “You know I think of you as my son. Always have. Ever since that first night I helped you up from that puddle in Minnesota. That’s never going to change, Sam. I don’t care if a hundred boys come in claiming to be sons of mine. You, Sam, you are my firstborn. Always will be.”

  Their gazes were locked for a few moments but Sam felt the gravity of the words all the way down to the marrow of his bones.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Dean nodded and closed his eyes briefly. “Now. Tell me what is going on between you and that lovely Ms Roxi.”

  His heart sped up at the mere mention of her. Still, he shook his head. “Nothing. She is letting me stay at her house.”

  “You’re not staying with Laila?” Some concern leached into his question.

  Thinking fast, Sam shook his head. “No. With Dean Jr, Chris and Tom all there we didn’t want it to be such tight quarters. Roxi graciously volunteered her guest room.”

  “Always could tell when you were lying, Sam.” A wry grin. “But this is okay. So what’s going on with the two of you?”

  “Me and Laila?”

  That greyed eyebrow rose. “No. She’s your sister, I’ve always known that, despite her childhood crush on you. I know you’ve never viewed her in any other light. You and Roxi.”

  “Nothing,” he reiterated his first claim.

  “Right. You know, son, if you want people to believe that, you should probably stop watching her so intently when she’s in the room with you.”

  He’d been doing that?

  “Sam, there is nothing wrong with it. Roxi is perfect for you.” Dean reached out and grabbed his wrist. “You are allowed to find someone to settle down with. Allowed to realise that there is more out there than just a temporary home.”

  He didn’t even try to deny it, he just shrugged. Dean was well aware of his fear of committing to anyone other than the Marine Corps.

  “You know how I feel about that, Dean.”

  He’d been left so many times as a child, he felt it was better if he didn’t make any long-term plans or hopes with others. Disappointment was bound to happen. As had been proven with his would-be fiancée.

  “Son, you can’t continue to go through life like that. I won’t be around forever and I want to know you are with a woman who lights up your entire world. Hell, even some children would be good. Some grandkids for me to bounce on my knees.” Dean took a deep breath. “I want to know you’ll be taken care of.”

  “Someday,” Sam hedged.

  “I think ‘someday’ has arrived for you, Sam.”

  There was a knock on the door and Roxi entered with Eric. Dean glanced pointedly between them and Sam.

  “Promise me you’ll think about it. Give it a chance.”

  “How are we doing?” Roxi asked as she moved up to the bed, again on the same side as Sam, even though her gaze lingered on Dean.

  “You light up the room with your cheer, Roxi.”

  “Dean, you’re an old charmer. I see what the nurses meant now.” She turned her head and met Sam’s gaze. His heart fluttered as she bestowed her smile on him. “I brought you a coffee.”

  He took it, unable to ignore the spark which flared up as their fingertips grazed along one another. Swallowing, he focused back on Dean.

  “Thank you.” He dragged some chairs over for her and Eric to sit in before returning to his previous seat. As he listened to Roxi, Eric, and Dean chat he tried not to touch her thigh. Her leg pressed against his and he could feel her warmth through to his soul.

  “You okay?” Her whisper had him looking up to find her gaze upon his face.

  He tightened his hand around the base of his cup so he wouldn’t grab her. “Yes.”

  It was a lie. He was far from okay. His life had suddenly begun to spin out of control and most of it was due to the woman sitting right beside him. Roxi, with her large, thickly
lashed brown eyes, firm lips and a figure which would make a saint willing to sin. If a person managed to make it past the outside packaging then they were confronted by a woman who had a heart of spun gold.

  She cocked her head slightly to the side, as if assessing the truth of his singular word. But she didn’t press him for any more, only gave a nod and focused back on the interaction between Eric and Dean, occasionally chiming in with a comment of her own.

  When the nurses came in, Roxi, Eric and Sam rose to leave. He hung back a bit while Roxi pressed a kiss to Dean’s cheek and whispered something in his ear. Eric said farewell then he moved back as well. Stepping up to the bed, Sam stared down at the man lying there.

  “I’ll be back,” he promised.

  Dean nodded and gave an exhausted smile. “Thanks for visiting. Remember what I said, Sam.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The trio left and once they were in the elevator he shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Up for lunch?” he asked.

  “Yes please,” Eric said. “I’m starving.”

  “You’re always starving, Eric,” Roxi teased.

  “Roxi?”

  “Sounds great.” Her gaze was soft when she looked at him.

  He herded them out of the hospital and into the parking lot, not at all ready to stop spending time with either of them—especially Roxi. They climbed up in his truck and he peered over the seat and asked Eric where he wanted to eat. After making sure it was okay with Roxi, he drove them to the restaurant.

  Lunch was full of laughs and teasing. Mostly between Eric and Roxi but he definitely enjoyed himself. Afterwards he took them home. Pausing in the driveway beside Roxi’s vehicle which still sat out front, he thought about that—that he’d begun to think of her place as a home. It didn’t matter that he’d only been living there a short time—not much more than a month.

  Once he’d parked, everyone got out and headed inside. He hesitated when someone outside called his name. Hitting the button to open the garage again, he found Laila standing there. She was bundled up, her teeth chattering.

  “Hey, Sam.”