Mine
A novel
Jennifer Suzanne
Copyright © 2020 Jennifer Suzanne
First Edition - 2020
All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or the aforementioned is entirely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form, or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information browsing, storage, or retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author and/or publisher.
Front cover design: Jennifer Suzanne, stock photo Amazon
Author photograph: Jeff McCoy/ Kaoss Studios
www.jennifersuzanne.ca
[email protected]
ISBN: 9798646175480 (Paperback)
This book is dedicated to all the kids who deserve better.
In case no one ever told you: you are amazing, powerful, beautiful, brilliant, and brave.
“It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken adults.”
—Frederick Douglass
Chapter 1
Jess Adams spotted her foster brother’s red pick-up truck with the monster wheels sitting at the back of the parking lot. She swung her duffel bag over her shoulder and headed towards it, nodding to her team as they also left in their different directions. She tossed her bag in the back of the truck and jumped in the cab, avoiding his gaze. They never engaged in small talk.
Chris Hastings started the engine; it was a two-hour drive to his house in northern Toronto, in an area known as North York, from the army base in Trenton, Ontario. As he pulled out of the lot, he scrutinized her appearance. “Looks like they fed you this time.” On her last tour, she and her medical team had ended up giving most of their food to the local orphaned kids. Jess recalled the last time Chris picked her up; how he had gasped when he saw how much weight she’d lost. The look in his eyes had reminded her of when they were kids. “Are we winning?” he asked, as he did every time she came home on leave.
“There is no winning,” she answered as always. She gazed out of the window as they drove past the base houses, the museum, and the hangar, and tried to reconcile the vast differences in the landscape between Afghanistan and spring in Canada.
***
The dreams returned. Jess was counting gauze. Endless blood-soaked gauze sponges. There was always another patient entering the clinic and she kept losing track of the pieces, so she’d have to start again. She never got the count right in her dreams.
She bolted upright in bed in a cold sweat. Her heart pounded and she gasped for air; she looked around in a panic, then realized she was in her bedroom in Chris’s house. She took a few breaths and tried to calm herself down. She hated this part of leave: having the time to think about what happened in Kabul. The digital red numbers on the clock glowed in the dark room and read two thirteen a.m. The window beside the bed was partially open and she took a deep breath and felt the cool night air fill her lungs. The moon glistened off the swimming pool in the backyard. She wiped the sweat off her forehead with a corner of her loose white t-shirt as she walked the few steps to the ensuite bathroom. Her long brown wavy hair felt damp and heavy against her back. She splashed cold water on her face and neck, patted the drips with a towel. She met her reflection in the mirror and saw her tired green eyes, her sunken cheeks. She looked away.
As she opened the bedroom door and stepped into the hallway, she listened to the familiar sounds of Chris’s house—the tree branch that brushed across the kitchen window, the hum of the refrigerator. She saw the glow of the television from the living room and knew Chris must have fallen asleep on the couch because he was alone tonight. She returned to bed and fell asleep, this time dreamless.
Chris drained his beer, lowered the volume and changed the channel from an old late-night movie he was watching to the sports channel to watch the update. He hoped the glare of the television from the dark living room hadn’t disturbed her sleep. He adjusted the throw pillow under his head, settled further into the couch, and scratched his chin as he glanced under her bedroom door to make sure the light was still off. She needed to catch up on her rest, and he’d wanted to make sure she didn’t need anything before he turned in for the night.
Even though he could breathe a little easier now that she was home, he still felt the overwhelming compulsion to visit the house in which they grew up. He knew how much she hated it when he drove to their old run-down neighbourhood. He tried his best to stay away, but sometimes he just couldn’t help himself. The paranoia wasn’t something he could control, despite his repeated attempts to talk himself out of it. He was frustrated, and he berated himself for his lack of control; he’d never felt good enough. But it was his responsibility to keep track of what their foster parents were up to. And he just knew there was something.
***
The next morning, Jess woke to a cold wet nose pressing against her arm. She opened one eye and peered into the big brown eyes of Chris’s golden Labrador Retriever, Mo. The dog wagged her tail excitedly and it thumped against the bed.
“Okay. Okay. We’ll go. I'm up.” Jess yawned and stretched and sat up at the side of the bed to massage the dog’s ears.
“She waited for you by the front door every night. She wouldn’t go to bed until I told her it wasn’t the day you were coming home,” Chris said, leaning against the doorway of Jess’s bedroom. He was shirtless and wearing pyjama bottoms. His arms were crossed, and he was holding a mug of coffee. His dirty-blonde hair hung to his shoulders, and the light from the window reflected in his light brown eyes. He had a home gym and worked out religiously; it showed in his six-pack and broad shoulders. With his strong jaw and boy-next-door good looks he had no trouble attracting women, and at six-foot-four very few people messed with him.
“She likes you better than me,” he chuckled, but the smile vanished as quickly as it came, and he looked down at the floor.
“Give me a minute, girl,” Jess said as Mo bounced up and down. One glance at Chris and she noticed the dejected look on his face. She ignored it as usual; she never had any idea what to say to him to make him feel better. He turned to leave as she fished through her dresser for some clothes, and a few minutes later she and Mo walked down their familiar path. At a safe distance from the road she released the dog and exhaled as she watched her run ahead and nose through the bushes. She inhaled the fresh spring foliage. Jess had been thrilled to discover this gem of a small forest behind Chris’s house in Bayview Woods after he’d bought it a few years ago. There was something about those few acres that made her feel less anxious: the green grassy hills, the trees, the small stream that ran through it; it was a little oasis, just outside the city, and it gave her a feeling of peace.
Jess followed the walk with a swim in Chris’s heated pool, then bundled up in a blanket to ward off the cool spring morning and enjoyed a cup of coffee on the lounge chair under the covered deck. Mo, exhausted from the walk, slept happily on the grass nearby. Jess sighed, letting the pleasure and comfort relax her. She planned to do exactly this and nothing more, for the week she was on leave.
***
The next afternoon, while Jess was stretched out on the couch in the living room reading, Chris sat across from her on the easy chair. “Hey, I was going to have some friends over this weekend if that's okay with you.”
“You don't have to check with me, Chris, it's your house.”
“It's your home too, and yeah, I know,” he wrung his hands, “nothing too crazy, just some steaks and beer. The usual crew.” He looked away and Jess eyed him suspiciously. She knew him well enough to know when he
was up to something, but she preferred to let the moment pass, and returned to her book.
The night of the party, Jess found out exactly what Chris was up to. She didn’t mind; it certainly wasn’t the first time Chris had attempted to set her up with someone. But lately she suspected he had another agenda.
Jess followed Drew Evans into the kitchen from the backyard. The sounds of people talking, laughing, and swimming faded behind them. He was beautiful in his red swim trunks, with his tall lean body, blue eyes, and bare muscular chest. Her heart beat quickly. She imagined running her fingers through the tight dark blonde curls on his head. Silently she thanked her foster brother for this offering; she did enjoy sex. Sex with no attachments was her specialty.
Drew reached up to retrieve a glass from the cupboard and was startled when he turned to see Jess leaning against the wall across from him. He looked from side to side in the otherwise empty kitchen before his eyes fell back to hers. She was staring directly at him and his breathing escalated. He thought she was sexy and intriguing. After Chris had introduced them earlier that night Drew had found himself nervous, fascinated, terrified…feelings that he had never experienced at the hands of a woman in his thirty years of living. He thought she was way out of his league anyway, with those piercing green eyes—and besides, she was his good friend’s sister. He’d put the thought right out of his mind. But now, here she was…
He held up the vodka bottle to offer her a drink, resisting the urge to chug from it directly to calm his nerves; she shook her head no. There was something seductive about the way she just stood there, how she didn’t feel the need to fill the silence with small talk or conversation. With his hands trembling, he filled his glass with ice, poured the vodka, and took a small sip. He leaned against the counter and, returning his gaze to her, tried desperately to keep his eyes from wandering across her body, barely concealed by a turquoise bikini and white mesh cover-up. He was the first to break the silence. “It’s great to finally meet you tonight. I can’t believe we haven’t met before now…well, with you being away when Chris and I lived together…” He fumbled for the right words, feeling completely paralyzed by her presence. He silently cursed. He was usually decently confident when it came to women.
“Mm-hmm…” Jess answered. She looked him up and down without reservation.
“…Chris throws the best parties. Even when we lived together in that small apartment…” he rambled. He and Chris had met a few years ago when Chris answered Drew’s ad for a roommate. Drew had still been in architectural school. They’d only lived together for six months before Chris bought his house, but they’d been friends ever since. Now Drew owned his own apartment, in a condo building in Bayview Village, and worked at a small firm in North York. He stopped his lame attempts at small talk abruptly as Jess closed the gap between them and looked up into his eyes, her body inches from his. He swallowed hard. His heart pounded.
Slowly, methodically, she raised her hands and pressed them flat against his shirtless torso; he felt the arousal immediately between his legs. A vanilla floral scent mixed with chlorine from her skin and hair filled his senses and made his skin tingle. He glanced out of the open kitchen window to see if anyone had noticed them—Chris in particular—but she reached up to caress his cheek and hair and he closed his eyes at her warm, soft touch.
In one swift movement he downed the vodka, placed the glass on the counter, and put his hands on her hips. He lowered his gaze to where his hands were resting, finally allowing himself to admire her body.
She pressed up against him, felt his response. His hands felt strong on her hips.
“Jess…” he stammered, full of lust and doubt, “…I don’t know how Chris would feel about…”
“Chris won’t mind,” she replied softly, seductively, and her words were the only excuse he needed. He tightened his grip on her and bit his lower lip. She stood up straighter and held her breath at the gesture.
“When are you going back?” he whispered. He needed weeks with her, months, to do all the things he wanted.
She raised her eyebrows and smirked knowingly, “Tomorrow morning.”
He laughed as he realized exactly what this was for her. One night only.
She led him to her bedroom. Jess could taste the vodka on his lips and it made her crazy with desire. It felt like forever since she had been with someone. He peeled off her cover-up and damp suit as he kissed her lips, softly at first, and then with urgency. She let her head fall back. His hot hands felt electric on her cool skin.
“Chris has condoms in his bathroom,” she murmured as she stroked him through his swim trunks. Drew nodded and inhaled her sweet-smelling skin as he kissed her neck. He didn’t believe in love at first sight, but he felt dizzy from her touch, like he’d never get enough of her. No woman had had this effect on him, and he had a sudden moment of clarity about why none of his other relationships had worked out: he had never felt this amount of passion and want and need all at once. It was most definitely her. Reluctantly, he let go of her and darted across the hall at record speed. He grabbed the box and returned to her bedroom, slamming her door. A laugh escaped her at this sequence of events.
He smiled in the dark; his body and mind felt alive for the first time in ages. He raced to her and lifted her up with ease; he pressed her, naked, against the wall and found her mouth again with his, tugging gently on her lower lip with his teeth. The moan that escaped her mouth made him rock hard.
She wrapped her arms and legs around him tightly and reciprocated his passionate kiss while his hands ran hungrily over her. She felt something low in her belly that she hadn’t felt before, and she pulled away to look at him for a moment, confused. Kissing his way down her neck, he sensed her hesitation, and stopped to meet her eyes, praying that she wasn’t going to change her mind.
“Jess…” he pleaded, cupping her face with his hands, “what is it? Don’t change your mind…please don’t change your mind,” he whispered as he kissed her lips gently and waited for her response. When she stiffened at his words he panicked, realizing how he must have sounded—she barely knew him at all. “I mean…of course you can change your mind…” He cursed himself at his careless words and reluctantly released his grip on her face. His body protested; it ached for her. When she didn’t respond, he raised his eyes to look at her. She was studying him, her head tilted and a look of amusement on her face. Her green eyes were ice cold. The colour drained from his face as he tried to understand what had happened.
Jess pushed him onto the bed with ease. She mounted him, pinning his hands above his head. Before the surprise could even register on his face, she had removed his shorts with one hand. He laughed, admiring the muscles in her shoulders and arms as she held him in place. He couldn’t move an inch, but he didn’t care. He loved the smile on her face. He swore silently and laughed at himself as he realized how completely he had misjudged the situation. When she let go of him, he sat up and kissed her again. She thought it was amusing how he played along, and cool that it didn’t seem to bruise his ego, but then she sobered as the thought crossed her mind that maybe this was the wrong man to seduce and then leave for Afghanistan. But she pushed the feeling aside in the same moment she pushed him back down on the bed.
Afterwards, he held her, ran his fingers up and down her soft arm, kissed her shoulder. The digital clock read three-fifteen a.m. and the party had fizzled out. He wrapped his body around hers and marvelled at the way they fit perfectly together. The sex had been incredible; the connection he felt with her like nothing he’d ever experienced. Now he wondered if she had felt it too. He thought about her cool detachment, and the way she and Chris had grown up. Just as he was about to ask, she pulled away and crossed her arms protectively. “You should go Drew. Thank you for tonight.”
He nodded, but he felt disappointed. The last thing he wanted was to leave her, even though she had been crystal clear about her intentions. He caressed her cheek with his thumb and brushed her lips briefly wit
h his; he closed his eyes and tried to savour the moment. He couldn’t quite bring himself to get out of the bed, and when he made no attempt, she cleared her throat and said firmly, “I have to be up in two hours to be on base.”
He persevered. “I could drive you in. We could pick up breakfast on the way,” He imagined them talking and getting to know each other in the car. He wanted to know everything about her. Jess sat up; she instinctively pulled the sheet up against her naked body and shook her head no.
He got out of bed and dressed, his heart heavy in his chest.
Jess had been right about Drew being the wrong man to sleep with and take off. But his feelings weren’t her problem. She lay back down and closed her eyes to sleep—but opened them quickly again, surprised, when he leaned over her to kiss her forehead.
“I loved being with you tonight. Be careful over there.” He kissed her lightly on the lips and turned to leave.
When he closed her bedroom door, he pressed his head against it. He felt the shame of being kicked out, the embarrassment of what he’d said, but mostly a pain in his chest at leaving her.
Jess turned over and tried to go back to sleep, but she couldn’t, and she didn’t understand why.
***
Riding in Chris’s truck on the way back to the base, Jess sipped her coffee and pushed her strange, uncomfortable feelings about Drew and their night together to the back of her mind. She never thought about men after she slept with them. She tried to erase the image of him asleep on the couch in the living room the following morning accordingly. She had to prepare herself mentally for the mission ahead, but Chris interrupted her concentration.
“You owe me a box of condoms.”
“Hmm…?” she pretended.
“You could have at least left one!”
“That red-headed girl was having none of your lame jokes,” she retorted.
Mine Page 1