Chapter 14
I’d been lying awake in this goddamned bed tossing and turning for hours, therefore I heard the soft creaking of the door, and quiet footsteps down the hall.
Eva was still awake. That was the second time I’d heard her get up.
The first time, I should’ve gone to her and made sure she was okay. But after the way I’d treated her, I didn’t think she’d be happy to see me. So I’d stayed in bed, the bed that smelled like apples and sex. Even after my shower, I couldn’t get her sweet smell off my skin. Not that I’d wanted to wash her away, but my stomach had been covered with come. Never had I been so caught up in a woman I forgot to use a condom.
At least that’s what I was telling myself instead of admitting I’d wanted to feel Eva bare. And that was the fuck of it, I’d purposely taken her, without protection.
Now I was behaving like a spineless dick because I knew I’d been wrong. From start to finish, I’d been a prick, but especially the way I’d let her leave. But when my first thought had been to keep her in my bed, because I didn’t want to let her go, I knew I had to get a lock on my emotions.
Fucking hell, I hadn’t even kissed her goodbye. But worse than that, I let her walk out of the bedroom knowing she wasn’t all right.
Fuck! I scrubbed my hands over my face and sucked in a breath.
It was time to face what I’d done. I couldn’t continue to hide in this damn room knowing Eva was awake and upset.
I tossed the covers off and found my discarded jeans, yanked them up, and went for the door hoping like hell I didn’t find Eva crying.
I made my way down the hall and into the living room and there she was, ass to the kitchen counter, glass of what looked like apple juice aloft. But she wasn’t drinking it, she was staring into nothing.
Goddamn, I’d done that to her.
I cleared my throat, not wanting to scare her as I started to make my way across the room. Her head turned to the side, her eyes locked onto mine, and she frowned.
“I hope I didn’t wake you. I was trying to be quiet.”
I could’ve lied, which is what I should’ve done instead of admitting the truth.
“You didn’t, I was awake.”
She nodded like she fully understood my restlessness, which by the weary look she wasn’t hiding, I suppose she did.
“Well, since we’re both awake at…” Eva glanced over at the microwave. “Three-thirty in the morning, we should probably get this over with now.”
“Get what over with?”
Please don’t fucking say it.
“That was a mistake.”
Goddamn, she said it, and instead of relief, her words were a knife to the gut.
“Which part?”
Her eyes widened before they narrowed and her lips thinned into two slivers.
Yep, I was being a dick—on purpose, too. All because I hated that she said what happened was a mistake. Which I agreed with, but not for the reasons she did.
“What do you mean, which part?” she hissed. “All of it. And before you say it, yes, I know I was the one who started it.”
I took the two steps necessary to invade her personal space. Her torso jerked and her hands lifted, palms out, warning me off.
“I don’t think you sucking me off was a mistake.”
“Of course you wouldn’t.”
“Your mouth is fucking heaven.” I was so close, I felt and heard the air whoosh as she sucked in an angry breath. “I don’t think burying my cock inside your sleek, wet—”
“Stop.”
“And it certainly didn’t feel like a mistake when you were grinding your tight pussy on my—”
“I said, stop.”
“Why? You didn’t mind hearing me tell you to ride me harder when my cock was inside you. And you can try to deny that, but, honey, your pussy tells the truth. And when my mouth was on your perky tits, my hands on your ass, it was gushing wetness, and milking the come right out—”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what? Trying to figure out which part you think is a mistake?”
“Being an asshole. Trying to embarrass me. I was there, I remember—all of it seared into my memory. I don’t need a blow-by-blow of tonight’s events. I know I behaved like a hungry whore who couldn’t get enough, but that is not me. I know you think that it is, but I’ve never done that.”
“Done what? Had sex? Given a blow job? Because, babe, I have to tell you, if that was your first blow job, you’re a goddamn natural. Best head I’ve ever had. Bar none.”
“God, would you stop saying blow job?”
“All right. Then we’ll talk about why you called yourself a whore. Is that what you think about yourself because you like sex?”
“I don’t like sex.”
“You don’t? You could’ve fuckin’ fooled me.” I had to bite back a laugh at the horrified expression on her face.
Damn, she was cute.
“Why are you smiling?”
“Because you’re fuckin’ cute when you get all riled up.”
“I’m not riled up and I’m not cute.”
“You sure as shit are. Your nose scrunches.” And before I could stop myself, I reached up and tapped her on the nose. What in the actual fuck was wrong with me? When had I ever tapped a woman on the goddamned nose? Oh, well, fuck it, in for a penny… my finger traced up to her forehead and I smoothed the creases. “Your forehead scrunches and you bite your lip…” I moved my hand lower and swiped my thumb over her bottom lip, pulling the soft, abused flesh free.
All sorts of illicit memories flooded in, remembering what those puffy lips felt like wrapped around my cock. Thoughts that I should’ve been pushing out of my head, but, damn, I did not lie to Eva when I told her that was the best head I’d ever had.
“Why are you doing this?” Eva repeated, and my gaze left her lips to find she’d lost the angry-cute and gone straight to sad.
Christ, I was a dick.
I dropped my hand and took a step back, putting some much-needed distance between us.
“For the record, I don’t like it when you call yourself a whore. You’re not that. What you are is a beautiful, adult woman who is allowed to have and enjoy sex however it is you want to enjoy it. Neither of us did anything to be ashamed of. As far as it being a mistake.” I shrugged, not willing to commit to the notion. “It sucks you feel that way, but I can’t tell you how to feel. I can only tell you I don’t regret it. And if you want the truth; not only did I enjoy it, I hope it happens again.”
“You don’t regret it? But—”
“Two things I regret: I didn’t take my time with you, and the ending.”
“The ending?” Eva pulled in a breath, misunderstanding what I meant.
“Babe, seriously, I think you know I thoroughly got off on what we did. What I meant was, the way you left. I fucked up and shouldn’t have let you leave that way.”
“Then why did you?”
Eva’s blunt question took me off-guard.
So much so, I didn’t guard my response. “Because I was taken aback by what I felt. I’m not relationship material. I’m not the type of man that feels anything beyond physical when I’m with a woman. And you want the God’s honest truth? I wasn’t happy about Tex asking me to go down to Florida to see to you and your kids. Before I met you, I’d made assumptions. I don’t trust women and knowing what you did, I didn’t trust you.”
I watched in horror as Eva’s eyes filled with tears and her shoulders sagged forward. I hated I was hurting her but I had to be honest. “Over the last few days watching you, I had to admit to myself I was wrong. I don’t like being wrong and I don’t like unfairly judging someone’s character. I was wrong and unfair and struggling with what to do with that knowledge. I didn’t expect what happened earlier to happen. My head was all fucked-up about how I felt about you, your situation, and my attraction toward you. So the bottom line is, when we hit the bedroom, I wasn’t ready. I was still processing all that I’d le
arned about you. The woman you are, the mother you are, and the depth of your love and loyalty to your kids. Straight up, Eva, I couldn’t separate the sex from what I was feeling for you, and that fucked with my head. So when we were done, I let you walk out the door because I needed you to leave so I could get my shit together. That was uncool and screwed up. I regret that ending. I should’ve been man enough to talk to you then, instead of making you feel like shit. And that’s on me. You did nothing wrong.”
“I did do something wrong,” she mumbled.
“Come again?”
“I was wrong to ask you to kiss me. I got caught up in what we were doing and I wanted to pretend for just a few minutes I wasn’t so lonely. That what we were doing meant something, that I’m not this empty pit of nothingness. It was unfair for me to use you like that. It made you uncomfortable.”
Fucking Christ.
Her candor gutted me. I’d been so wrong about so much—so fucking wrong I wanted to kick my own ass.
“Can I ask you something personal?” Eva asked.
“What’s that?”
“Why don’t you trust women?”
Of course Eva would hone in on that.
“Because it’s been my experience women are only out for what they can get. I learned early on I was nothing more than a meal ticket. And I’ll be damned if I’m ever fucked over again by a bitch with an agenda.”
“Sounds familiar,” she muttered.
“Yeah?”
“Sucks we seem to have that in common. People using us to get what they want. Only in my case, I guess I was too stupid not to let it happen.”
“And what makes you think I wasn’t too stupid?”
“Because I can’t see you ever being so naïve that once you saw the red flags waving you wouldn’t have walked away. I’m just dumb enough to put blinders on, pretend not to see them, even when I did.”
“There’s lots of ways to be stupid, Eva. And lots of ways to be used. The first time it happened, I was too young to do anything to stop it. The next time, I wasn’t old enough to know the difference between a good time and love.”
“Sorry that happened to you.”
Fucking hell, she means that.
“I’m not, it taught me to be careful about who I let into my life and who to trust.”
“I guess it did.” Her eyes softened and her gaze dropped to the floor. “I better get back to bed.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” Eva lifted her head. Gone were the soft yellow eyes—gone was the openness.
I would’ve been impressed she could shut down so quickly if it didn’t piss me off so badly.
“Right. I let that shit slide back in the bedroom because I was being a dick. But, babe, I know you’re lying.”
Her spine shot straight, her shoulders squared, and her chin jutted out defiantly.
“So, what, you thought you’d continue to be a dick and call me out on it instead of leaving it alone and letting me go back to my room where I could lick my wounds in private?”
“No, Eva. I thought we should talk about what’s bothering you—fix it, then move on.”
“There’s no fixing what’s broken inside of me. There’s no moving on from the sins of my past. If you’re worried you hurt me tonight—don’t.”
“Eva—”
“Goodnight, Max.”
Eva started to skirt around me in an effort to flee, her movements stiff and on-guard.
“Wait.” I grabbed her hand and held on tight when she tried to pull away.
“Let. Me. Go.”
“Not until we work this out.”
“Why?”
Fuck, that was a good question. Why was I pushing her? Why did I care? Why in the hell was I demanding her honesty when I had no intention of giving her more than I already had?
“Because I don’t want you going to bed upset.”
Eva huffed a sad chuckle and shook her head. “You don’t understand, Max. I go to bed upset every night. You think this is about you? Me up at two-thirty in the morning pacing around, unable to sleep? Well, you can rest easy in the knowledge you’re not the reason I’m losing sleep. This is my life, my penance, my punishment. I close my eyes and I see Zoey—the terror in her eyes. I see Mark Wright’s confusion and anger. I see it so vividly it’s like it’s happening all over again. Every night, I’m sitting back in that plane praying they’ll be found quickly. Warring with myself, willing myself to pull back on the yoke to take off. Four people’s lives are in my hands. Two are innocent strangers. Two are the most precious people in my life. So, no, I’m not okay. I’ll never be okay again. But I deserve that, I don’t get to be okay after what I’ve done.”
Eva tugged her hand free and loped through the living room and down the hall. I watched her go in a haze of anger. And for once, I wasn’t angry at her for nearly killing my friend. I was mad as fuck at the people responsible for putting Eva’s ass in that plane, making her do the unthinkable.
Bubba and Zoey, or Elijah and Liam.
I made my way to the bedroom. Not bothering to undress, I climbed back into bed and lay awake thinking about Eva.
Not even the sweet smell of apples and sex could lull me to sleep.
Fucking hell.
I needed to get a grip and get my head sorted.
Chapter 15
Seven in the morning comes early when you’ve been up most of the night. Thankfully, the safehouse had a queen-size bed in the master, giving the boys and me plenty of room. But Elijah had always woken up rough—he moved, he kicked, he whined. This had always been his way, even as an infant. Therefore, I was being used as a punching bag as my son came awake.
“Stop,” Liam demanded and rolled away from his brother.
Now, Liam was the opposite. He was a cuddle bug in the mornings. He woke up sweet and easy.
“Morning time, my loves,” I mumbled.
Eli grunted. Liam sighed—loudly.
“Good morning, good morning,” I sang. “Sunbeams will soon shine through.”
“Good morning, good morning,” Liam mumbled his part of the song.
“Good morning, my darlings, to you,” I finished.
Eli rolled and tucked himself into my side, his little arm going around my belly, his head on my chest, and I sighed.
Nothing better than waking up with my boys.
I kissed Eli’s hair and breathed in the smell of his shampoo. Something so small, but I’d never fail to appreciate. The small things mean everything. Something I knew as fact, considering they’d been taken away from me.
“What are we doing today?” Liam asked, sitting up. “Is Max still here?”
“Yeah, sweetheart, he is. And I’m not sure what we’re doing.”
“Can we have pancakes for breakfast?” Eli asked.
“If there’s stuff in the kitchen to make them, sure.”
“Can we check?”
“Absolutely.”
The boys started to get out of bed, and my thoughts wandered to coffee, or more specifically if the house was stocked with the brew of the gods, and alternately if it wasn’t, what my chances were of talking Max into going out and getting me some.
Thankfully, I got my answer after I opened the bedroom door and hit the hall. The smell wafted from the kitchen through the living room and filled my nostrils, lifting my spirits.
Max stood in the kitchen, his ass against the countertop, one ankle crossed over the other, feet bare, yesterday’s wrinkled clothes on, looking so damn good I rocked to a halt so I could stare.
Unfortunately for me, he was looking directly my way, therefore he saw my reaction. The sexy smirk on his face annoyed me. But when he caught sight of Liam and Elijah, it turned into a smile. That was irritating as well—he had a great smile.
Actually, he had a great everything, and since I’d seen every inch of him, I knew that to be absolute fact. There was no part of Max that wasn’t muscled to perfection. Great body, beautiful eyes, soft hair, square jaw, handsome face
, nice, thick, long—
Gah! I shook the thought from my head, needing to concentrate on feeding my kids, not the size of his package.
“Morning,” Max rumbled and I shivered.
I knew what the deep, gruff voice felt like against my skin.
Liam skipped off toward the kitchen but Eli hung back with me, still shy and leery of Max. I was more than a little surprised that Liam was as comfortable around Max as he was. Liam had taken the brunt of Jay’s abuse and he’d protected his little brother the best he could, making my son at the tender age of six distrusting and watchful.
But for some unexplainable reason, Liam relaxed around Max.
I heard my son happily jabbering in the kitchen so I bent down and swung Elijah up. His little legs wrapped around me and I hugged him close.
“You okay?” I asked into his neck.
Eli nodded and snuggled in closer.
“Are you scared of Max?” I whispered.
Again, Eli nodded.
Damn.
“It’s okay to be scared,” I told him. “You take your time. We’ll make pancakes together.”
Elijah didn’t agree or disagree and he didn’t take his head off my shoulder as I walked into the kitchen.
Max watched as I made my way to the coffee pot, Eli wrapped around me like a monkey. Something was working behind those blue eyes of his but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Not with only two hours’ worth of sleep and no caffeine. Maybe later I’d think about it, maybe I wouldn’t, maybe I just needed to stop trying to figure out Max and all of his mercurial expressions and concentrate on the perilous situation at hand.
“Eli wants pancakes. Mom makes the best pancakes,” Liam told Max.
“Better than her grilled cheese?”
“Yeah. Way better.”
“Well, then, I can’t wait to try them.”
Who said I was making any for you?
“I’m starving,” Max finished.
I bet he is. He expended a godly amount of effort last night.
“I need coffee first,” I spoke for the first time.
“Fresh pot.” Max chuckled and unnecessarily tipped his head toward the machine. “Do you need any help?”
“Nope.” I was already pouring one-handed, but even if I needed both hands, Elijah wouldn’t fall. All four limbs were wound around me tight. “How’s your shoulder?” I asked, and immediately regretted my question when Max’s lips twitched and his eyes danced.
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