A Good Man

by Rosanna Leo

  She grimaced. “Did I tire you out?”

  “I feel great.” He moved her up against the car, insinuating his thigh between hers. “But now I want to go inside with you.”

  Emily wriggled on his leg. All day long, they’d been teasing each other to the point of distraction. Although they’d had a fun time, each conversation had been laced with innuendo, to say nothing of the odd blatant promise. She wouldn’t argue with him now. She felt confident she’d shown Michael a good time on a difficult day, and could think of nothing better than ending it next to his naked body. She slid her arms around his neck. “I want you.”

  His forehead met hers. “Fuck, I want you too.”

  He took her mouth, took it and tortured it with kiss after sweet kiss. Each velvet glide of his tongue drove Emily into a frenzy of need. Turning her so that she wasn’t in view of the neighbors, he moved his hand under her shirt and cupped her breast. Emily didn’t even care if nosy Mrs. Sanders from next door spotted them through the window. She’d give herself to Michael wherever he wanted her. He could lay her on the asphalt and she’d willingly submit. He toyed with her nipple through her bra and she bit back a mewl.

  Only when a car passed by did Michael finally end their kiss and reach in his pocket for his house keys. “Damn. Every time I have to stop kissing you, I swear I die a little death.”

  She knew the feeling.

  As they went inside and he locked up, it occurred to Emily that she wasn’t exactly at her freshest. “After cycling all day long, I’m surprised you even want to touch me. I’m pretty sure my skin is covered in sand.”

  “Doesn’t bother me, but I could run a bath for us.” His grin took on devilish contours. “If I recall correctly, you liked my bathroom.”

  “Why do you think I’m here?”

  He swatted her ass, but took her hand and led her upstairs. “Come on.”

  Michael headed to the expansive master bathroom and ran the taps in the soaker tub. He popped the lid on a bottle of nice bath wash and poured some under the stream of water so bubbles would appear. He set the bottle down on the ledge and crooked a finger.

  Emily went to him, like a moth to a porchlight at night. One kiss, then he slipped her T-shirt off. A nibble on her neck, and her bra followed. Michael palmed her breasts, groaning, his erection throbbing against her belly. She grabbed at his belt buckle, loosening it, tugging at his jeans zipper. He stopped touching her breasts just long enough to pull his shirt over his head, but rewarded her for her patience by dipping his head and capturing one nipple between his lips. When his teeth closed on the stiff nub, she whimpered.

  Breathing heavily, Michael fumbled with the catch on her shorts and dispensed with the garment and her panties. She stood bare, anticipating, as he stepped out of his jeans and boxer briefs. The water in the tub was frothy and looked inviting, but he tested the temperature with a hand and turned off the taps. He helped her in first, and Emily eased into the tub, sighing as the heat enveloped her. He joined her, moving behind her. She sat between his legs, rested her head back on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

  As his hand strayed between her thighs, she bit her lip and moaned. “Yes.”

  He circled her clit. “Just like that?”

  She put her hand on his, letting him know she loved the hot rush of feeling. “Just like that.”

  It was over in seconds. Primed, her heart bursting, Emily unraveled. She continued to grind against his fingers long after her orgasm. Somehow she just couldn’t stop. Even though her body was in no way ready to hurtle her through space again just yet, his touch still produced such need. She coveted every orgasm with Michael as if it were the last and wanted to wring every possible shudder out of the moment.

  “God, Em.” His voice was hushed, the mere echo of a prayer. “You’re so beautiful.”

  She was falling in love with him.

  Against her better judgment, despite the ridiculous timing, her heart had fused to his. She could feel them beating together, his chest so close to her back. It seemed, in that moment, that nothing could ever separate them, even though she knew their pleasant day had been an interlude. She was glad she’d been able to provide Michael with a reprieve. She hoped she could continue to support him. His happiness, his sense of wellbeing, had become all-important to her.

  She turned around in the spacious tub and straddled his legs. As soapy water dripped from her breasts, he smoothed the suds all over her chest. A smile graced his handsome face, momentarily hiding the shadows.

  “Michael.”

  “Hmm.” He looked up from her breasts.

  “I’m crazy about you too.”

  His dark eyes flashed with heat but only for a moment. His face transformed and fell. Jaw set, eyebrows touching, his expression might have been more at home on a marble statue of some old god.

  “Are you angry?”

  “At you? Never. At me? Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I should have stayed away from you. Because I won’t make you happy, not in the long run. Because, Em, you deserve more than a man who’s dead inside.”

  For the first time in their acquaintance, she spied tears in his eyes. She’d tried to give him a day free from trouble and had only brought him more agony. As much as she wanted to cry out of some weird sense of rejection, she steeled herself and gathered him against her chest. His chest heaved as the first sob escaped, but she held him tight.

  Whether he could accept her love or not, she would give it to him.

  “Let it out, Michael. Remember what you told me? It has to come out.”

  Cradled against her body, he finally let his anguish escape. His moans broke her heart, but she listened to each one, determined to heal him so he never had to cry again. She would see him through this and get him the help he needed or die trying.

  “I feel so weak.” His sobs had ceased and his head rested limp on her shoulder.

  “You’re not. Do you hear me? You’re the strongest man I know. Michael, you’re surrounded by people who admire and love you. I’m so lucky I get to be one of them. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” A tear slipped from her eye and she swiped it away with her soapy hand, which only caused her eye to sting even more. “Ah, fuck. I got soap in my eye.”

  He laughed through his tears. His voice grated, but the contented undertones sounded like music. “I don’t care if I’ve known you for weeks. I need you, Emily. I don’t ever want to be without you.”

  She blinked about seventeen times. “I don’t want to be without you either.”

  “Let’s get out of this tub. Your eye is scary red. I think we need to rinse it.” He sighed and helped her stand. “You’re a danger to yourself, you know that?”

  “The only danger to me is you, buster. Hand me a towel.”

  They toweled off and Michael rubbed her shoulders while she rinsed out her eye at the sink. When she finished, she turned off the tap and stepped into the large towel he held out for both of them.

  He gently kissed her sore eye. “All better?”

  “Yeah. You?”

  He swallowed, so hard she heard the grind of his Adam’s apple. “Yeah.” His forehead creased. “Em, I can’t do this alone anymore. I think I need help.”

  Her eyes teared up all over again. “I’ll get it for you. I’ll be right at your side. You came to my rescue, Michael. I want to do the same for you.”

  “I think you’ve already rescued me.”

  “I know today was just one day. I understand a bike ride and a burger won’t fix everything.”

  “Em, today you did more for me than you might realize, but I know I have work to do.”

  “You’ll survive this. You will.”

  “With your help, I just might.” Michael’s voice rumbled with dark promise as he brought her to his bedroom. They shed their towels and she welcomed him between her legs and next to her heart. As they shared a hundred kisses, a wave of hope rushed through her.

  They would survive th
is.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  When Michael emerged from Dr. Harding’s office, Emily gave him a thumbs-up. As he set up another appointment with the receptionist, he discreetly gave her one as well. He paid for his session and he and Emily walked into the quiet hallway outside the waiting area.

  “Well?”

  “Well, I didn’t explode. That’s a relief.” In all honesty, he’d appreciated talking to Dr. Harding, or as he preferred to be called, Jeff. A former medic in the Canadian Forces, the man had seen action in Afghanistan. Upon coming home, he’d been affected by the plight of so many fellow veterans and had gone into psychology. He specialized in treating victims of PTSD. Michael was almost ashamed, comparing his story to some of theirs, but Jeff wouldn’t hear anything about it. An older man, straightforward in his approach, Jeff reminded Michael of his dad. He liked him, felt comfortable around him.

  Emily threw her arms around his neck. “I’m so proud of you.”

  “It’s just one appointment.”

  “Michael, it’s a huge step. Priya told me many people with PTSD never seek help. They suffer in silence, sometimes for years. In agreeing to see a professional, you’ve come leaps and bounds.”

  “Thanks. Jeff is cool. Having seen what he’s seen, I feel as if he gets it.”

  “It sounds as if you’re in good hands.”

  “I told him how hard it’s been for me to remember the shooting, how I didn’t want to talk about it with the last doctor. He understood, but he said something that made sense. If I keep trying to avoid my memories of that day, they’ll keep interfering in my day-to-day life. Avoiding them actually keeps the emotions current, instead of allowing me to process them and move on.”

  “Makes sense.”

  Michael grinned. “I have to start keeping a journal. Can you picture me scribbling in a journal, writing down all my thoughts and feelings?”

  “You can do it.”

  “It’s all part of building what he calls dual awareness. When I have a flashback, I feel like I’m there again, in Jane’s house. In working with him, he said he’ll be helping me recognize when I’m safe in the present and not thrust into my memories.”

  “You got all that from one appointment? Maybe I should book a session with Jeff for some of my issues.”

  “He said there’s a good way to remember and a dangerous way to remember. Revisiting those memories in a safe environment is supposed to give me a sense of control over my fear.”

  “I like the idea of having a safe place to remember.”

  Michael wrapped his arms around her and she rested her head on his shoulder. Stroking her neck, he closed his eyes and visualized his ideal sanctuary. No matter what form it took, whether a park or a beach or a church, there was one constant in each image. Emily was always there.

  “I think that’s why I gravitated to you so quickly. You’re my safe place. I know I can always land softly around you.”

  She nuzzled the opening at his shirt and kissed the patch of his chest that was visible. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  He grinned, feeling refreshed. Odd, considering he’d spent the last hour blubbering like a baby. A sense of lightness floated around him, as if he’d plopped onto a big, happy bubble. He was under no illusion he was cured, if one could indeed be cured of PTSD, but in admitting his helplessness, first to Emily then to Jeff, he’d somehow harnessed another aspect of his strength.

  For the first time in a long time, he’d woken up without a headache. He’d had one short nightmare, but it was nothing like the night terrors he’d had previously. No mangled bodies or waving guns. If anything, the dream had felt like a reflection of his new resolution to heal. He remembered black clouds in an angry sky, but the clouds had drifted past and Michael had glimpsed pockets of light.

  It was the same feeling he got when he looked at Emily. She filled his world with light and he already felt indebted to her. How would he ever repay her for her kindness, her understanding and her persistence? He knew she wouldn’t want any sort of recompense, but he wanted to do something to show her exactly how much he appreciated having her in his life.

  An idea occurred to him. It scared him, he wouldn’t deny it, but if he could get past his hang-ups, it might be just the sort of thing Em would love.

  He tucked the idea into the back of his head so he could mull it over later. Maybe he’d even talk to Jeff about it.

  In the meantime, he forced himself to confront something else that had been bothering him for a long time. “Em, I’m thinking about calling Penny.”

  “You mentioned her before. Isn’t she Jane’s daughter?”

  “Yeah. She’s a student at the University of Toronto. I haven’t spoken to her since right after the shooting and I’ve been beating myself up for not doing more for her.”

  “More? That implies you have done something for her.”

  He shrugged. “I put a bit of money into an education fund for her. She knows, of course. The kid lost both her parents that day. I had to do something.”

  “That’s very generous.”

  “I wish I’d been able to be generous with my time instead. I wish I’d had the nerve to take her out for a meal or a coffee, just to talk, but I haven’t been able to face her.” He considered what Jeff had said about safe places. “I thought I might be able to do it if you came with me.”

  “I’d love to meet Penny with you.”

  One more storm cloud floated away. “Okay. I’ll make the call.”

  * * * *

  “That’s it, lady.” Michael pointed at the door, shooing Emily out of the house. “You’ve done your last renovation. Out.”

  The appliances and decorative pieces were set to arrive any minute now, and Emily had received her walking orders. She’d completed her final project with the team, painting one of the upstairs storage rooms, and now, as per Handymen tradition, she was being sent away so the crew could prepare the property for the reveal. “Ah, come on. Just let me have one last look?”

  “No way. You’ve been here all day long. You’ve had plenty of time to look.”

  “You’re a tough task master, Michael. A tyrant.”

  He leaned in and brushed his lips against her neck. “Don’t you forget it.” The sultry curl to his lips made Emily forget all her complaints.

  “You won’t be here too long tonight, will you? Don’t forget we’re meeting Penny for coffee later.”

  “I haven’t forgotten. Trust me.”

  “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

  “No, I want to. I have to deal with my triggers in order to take power away from them. I’m done letting this control me. Besides, it’s been so long since I’ve faced Penny. For all I know, she might not even act as a trigger.”

  Emily couldn’t believe the change in Michael since he’d been seeing Jeff. They’d only had a few sessions, but he’d come from each one looking younger. She knew they’d been dealing with difficult emotions in each session, but every time he’d emerged from the psychologist’s office, his eyes had been bright and full of hope. He spoke the lingo now, which always made her smile. Despite his initial discomfort with journaling his feelings, he now had a booklet full of inked pages.

  His nightmares hadn’t disappeared and she didn’t expect they would. However, at least now she slept with him every night and could be there to remind him of his relaxation exercises and deep breathing.

  Jeff had given him an exercise for flashback moments, one that had been working wonders so far. When Michael began to fade into his past darkness, he was to focus on his immediate environment, calling out objects that he could see.

  “Chair. Book. Bed. Closet. Jeans. Work boots.”

  The first time Emily had heard him reciting the list of items, she’d thought he was in the midst of a flashback, talking to himself. In actuality, calling out objects in view forced Michael to remember where he was. It reminded him that he wasn’t standing on Jane Ashton’s back stairs, approa
ching her gun-wielding ex-husband.

  “Okay,” said Emily. “But if you feel uncomfortable at any time, just give me a nod and we’ll get out of there.”

  “I’ll be okay. Thanks.”

  Curling one arm around her hip, he kissed her slow and deep. She sank against him as his tongue slid between her lips, hooking her fingers in his belt so she wouldn’t fall down. There was nothing better than kissing him. He was the sort of man who disliked dry pecks on the cheek. He always lingered, as if receiving life from her skin. Each kiss told her he was hungry for her. Every embrace was a new opportunity for him to tell her he thought she was beautiful.

  Michael’s kisses told her, in no uncertain terms, that he loved her. And she loved him.

  The words hadn’t been said yet, but she felt it every morning when he reached for her. She’d been tempted to let the three syllables trip off her tongue many times but had always held back, and she suspected he was doing the same. With so much happening in both their lives, it was enough knowing they supported each other. Their relationship was still a young one and she didn’t want to add any pressure.

  Right now, she just wanted to enjoy him.

  He gave her bottom a pat and pulled away. “It’s time for you to go. I need to finish your store. Scram.”

  Laughing, Emily reached for her bag and car keys. “All right, all right. You don’t need to say another word. I know when I’m not wanted. I’ll see you later.” She headed into the hallway.

  “Em? One more thing.”

  “Yes, Michael?”

  He grinned. “Just so you know, you are wanted.” He disappeared toward the back door.

  She stared after him for a moment, her heart full. With a sigh, she walked to her car.

  * * * *

  “Excuse me. Are you Penny?”