Keeping Guard

by Sandra Owens

  Joseph’s eyes widened, then he burst out laughing. “You got game, Miss Peyton, I’ll tell ya that. Got a song for you.” He played Nancy Sinatra’s “These Boots Are Made for Walking.”

  Peyton clapped, clearly delighted. “I’m so badass.”

  Yes, she certainly was. After leaving Joseph, Peyton took him to her favorite sidewalk restaurant. When Lucky had first been put in his care, the dog would have been trying to crawl onto his lap, would have been going for the food on the table. Now with one word—down—he was on his belly under the table, watching the people walk by.

  Peyton peeked under the table. “He’s such a good boy.”

  And she was beautiful, perfect. He kept his news to himself through dinner, but when they returned to her loft, he couldn’t put it off any longer. He walked to the window and stared out. The sidewalks were still filled with people enjoying a nice summer evening. Damn, he was going to miss this city...and her. Especially her.

  He turned to face her. “I have news.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Peyton stilled, one sandal in her hand and one still on. Something in Noah’s voice was off, so much so that she wanted to slap her hands over her ears and refuse to hear whatever he had to say.

  Always, the first thing she did when coming home was to take off her shoes. Then she’d go to her bedroom and change into something comfortable. Leggings and a T-shirt, or since Noah had been living with her, a pair of sexy panties and a soft cotton camisole. He liked when that was all she had on.

  She needed to keep to her routine, not listen to words she didn’t want to hear. “I’ll just go change.”

  “I’m leaving on Sunday.”

  “Oh.” As in oh God, her heart was breaking. She’d known this was coming and she should have prepared herself. But how did one prepare to say goodbye to the man she loved? She’d known she loved him since he’d taken care of her after Dalton had kidnapped her.

  Okay, an even bigger truth, she’d probably fallen in love with him even before that. Maybe the night he’d arranged their romantic evening at the Grove Park Inn. Or one of the times he’d kissed her. Or when he sang “Pretty Woman” to her. But what did it matter? He was going to leave her. He was going to do that and never look back.

  She wouldn’t cry. She’d told Nichole she had to let him go, and she would do it without tears. She squared her shoulders, looked him in the eyes, and said, “Well, we knew this day was coming. Let’s make the most of the time we have left.” There was a slight tremble to her voice that she hoped he hadn’t noticed.

  He stared at her for a few moments, and she got lost in the emotions at war in his eyes. She wasn’t sure what to make of what she was seeing. Regret? Sadness? Relief that she wasn’t making a fuss?

  “The time we have left,” he murmured, then strode to her. He trailed his knuckles down her cheek. “How do you want to make the most of it, princess?”

  “Naked,” she whispered. She had her memories of him and their time together stored in her mind to relive after he was gone, but she wanted more. Enough to last her a lifetime.

  Fire burned in his eyes, hot need in their depths. “Naked’s good.” He put his hands on her hips, backed her up to the wall, and pressed his body against hers. “Real good.”

  She dropped the shoe she held. “I thought so. Especially when you’re the one without clothes. You have an amazing body, all hard and muscley, a work of art.”

  “Oh, I’m hard all right.”

  Like she hadn’t already felt that. “I—”

  His mouth landed on hers, and she forgot what she wanted to say. He slid his hands up her arms, over her shoulders, and then tangled his fingers in her hair. Kissing Noah was high on her list of favorite things.

  Something was different with this kiss. It felt like he was trying to ruin her for any man’s kiss but his. She had news for him. He’d done that the first time he’d kissed her.

  There was also a feeling of desperation radiating from him as his tongue demanded dominance over hers. As if he wanted to remember everything about her, too. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

  She would wait a thousand years for this man to come back to her if only he’d ask it of her. He wasn’t going to, though. She knew that about him. The tears she’d been keeping at bay burned her eyes, so she closed them, not wanting him to see that her heart was breaking.

  The fingers he had tangled in her hair tightened as he rolled his hips over hers, his erection hard on her stomach. “Noah. Please.”

  “Please what?” His mouth left hers, and his lips peppered hot kisses across her face to the place below her ear that he already knew was one of her sensual hot spots.

  “What?”

  He chuckled, and she felt his smile on her skin. “You said, ‘Noah. Please.’ Please what, princess?”

  “I don’t know. I knew and now I don’t know what the what was. Maybe if you stopped scrambling my brain, I’d know.”

  “Not gonna stop. I like your brain scrambled when I’m the reason for it.” The hands he had tangled in her hair dropped to her hands. He linked their fingers, then brought her arms up to the wall. He wrapped one hand around both of hers. His other hand found its way into her panties.

  He made a strangled sound when he slipped a finger inside her. “Fuck me.” He lifted his head and stared hard at her. “When I’m on deployment, I’m going to spend my nights thinking of you, all wet just for me.”

  When he was on deployment. She hated the sound of that. He’d be on the other side of the world from her. He’d be in dangerous situations. He could die. What would the world be without Noah Alba in it? She couldn’t bear to think of it.

  “Naked, Noah. We’re supposed to be naked, and we’re not,” she said to remind him, but even more, wanting him to get thoughts of him being in danger, of him leaving, out of her head.

  “We’ll get there. I promise.”

  His finger stroked deep inside her, his mouth crashed down to hers again, and he consumed her. There was no other word to describe what he was doing to her. He still held her hands above her head, against the wall, and she growled in frustration, wanting to touch him. He tightened his grip when she tried to pull her hands free. As much as she wanted to touch him, it was hot the way he held her prisoner while pleasuring her.

  “Noah,” she gasped into his mouth as pressure coiled low in her belly.

  “That’s it, princess. You’re so beautiful when you come for me.” He let her hands drop and gathered her in his arms, holding her close as the last of her shudders traveled through her. “Let’s get you to the bedroom. I need to be inside you.”

  “Yes, please.” She sighed when he scooped her up. How was she supposed to live without him, without this, the way he made her feel, and not just the amazing sex?

  He chuckled. “Someone wants more, huh?”

  “Someone sure does.” She was doing her best to keep her voice light, to keep the tears out of her eyes, to hide how much she was hurting.

  When he reached the bed, he let her legs slide down his body. He undressed her, his eyes growing darker with each piece of clothing he removed. As she stood naked before him, he skimmed his hands over her, each place he touched sending those delicious tingles through her.

  “Noah, please.” She needed him inside her, needed them to be skin to skin.

  Much faster than he’d undressed her, he had his clothes off. “My sweet, sweet princess,” he softly said.

  In his words, she thought she heard longing, that maybe he really was going to miss her. She wanted to tell him that she loved him, but if they were words he didn’t want to hear, she didn’t want to ruin the moment by saying them.

  He wrapped his arms around her, then twisted, falling on the bed so that he was under her. “Now I’ve got you where I want you.” He reached to the nightstand for a condom, then handed it to her. “P
ut it on me.”

  Who knew sheathing a man was such a turn-on, or that his watching her hands while she covered him was? When she had the condom in place, his gaze lifted to hers, and they were eyes she could happily drown in. He adjusted her so that she straddled him, his erection pressing against her sex.

  “Ride me, Peyton.”

  She grinned. “With pleasure.” She wrapped her hand around him and guided his shaft until he was buried deep inside her. When she lifted, then sank down on him again, he put his hands on her bottom, cupping her butt cheeks.

  As she moved over him, their eyes locked together, she wished she could read his mind. Did their being joined in the most intimate act between two people mean something to him? Did he feel it, too? The way their souls touched, because that was how it felt.

  The pleasure built inside her, the pressure of an oncoming climax growing, and while that was happening, she watched his face, searching for some hint that this...what was happening between them meant more to him than just fun times. As if he didn’t want her to see into his mind, he closed his eyes.

  She wanted to tell him to open them, to let her see, to give her a glimpse of his feelings for her, to allow her to hope. Instead, he flipped them over, taking control, angling deeper with each thrust. She got lost in the feel of him, in the waves of pleasure taking over her body, and she stopped thinking.

  “Noah. Oh God, Noah.”

  “That’s it, baby. My princess. So damn beautiful.”

  Maybe it was knowing that her time with him was ending and that had her greedy for all that he was giving her, or maybe it was the first time when making love with him that she absolutely knew she was in love with him, but whatever the reason, her world shattered, and she soared to the stars. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced before.

  It was profound.

  * * *

  Make the most of the time we have left.

  Sunday came before Noah was ready. He’d hated those words coming out of her mouth, as if all she wanted from him was sex, or “tingles.” He’d expected tears or at least regret in her eyes, had been surprised at how much he wanted a sign that she didn’t want him to go. Was she even going to miss him? He wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready to leave her.

  He hadn’t told her about Jack’s job offer, mostly because although he was considering it, he’d probably re-up. Why get her hopes up—if she was even hoping—that he might be back, emphasis on the might.

  She’d asked if Jack could take him to the airport, and he’d hidden his disappointment. Was she that anxious to get rid of him? He tossed his toiletry kit into his duffel, picked up the bag and his guitar case, and carried them out to the living room.

  Peyton stood at the window looking out, and he wondered if this was the last time he’d ever see her. That damn sharp-edged rock in his chest grew into a boulder. He swallowed past the lump in his throat.

  “Guess that’s it then.” Was that the best he could do? He’d been inside her body, his mouth had loved every inch of her. He owed her more than a few meaningless words. He dropped his duffel and guitar case on the sofa, then walked over to her. “I’m going to miss you, princess.”

  “I’ll miss you, too.”

  And that was the extent of any discussion on his leaving. It seemed like there should be more to say, but for the first time since he’d looked into the sky-blue eyes of a runaway bride, he couldn’t read her. Her usually expressive face was blank, her thoughts hidden from him.

  Was she ready to be back on her own and get on with her life? Because he didn’t know, he didn’t tell her what was in his heart. Truth, he wasn’t even sure, another reason he stayed quiet. He thought he was falling in love with her, but what if once he was away, he realized it was just lust?

  Equating his feelings for her to nothing but lust didn’t sit well, though. She deserved better than that, so he shut down trying to analyze whatever this was or wasn’t between them. His phone buzzed with a text.

  “That’ll be Jack. He said he’d message when he got here.”

  “Okay. Well...” She put her palm on his cheek. “Be safe, Noah.”

  “Always.” He wanted more of her chatty words, the babbling that only ended when he kissed her. To hell with it. He lowered his mouth to hers. If this was the last time he’d get to kiss a princess, he wasn’t going to let the opportunity pass.

  Her body melted against his and her mouth opened, welcoming him in. How the hell was he supposed to leave her? His tongue slid over hers, and at hearing her sigh, he knew he couldn’t leave without asking if she’d wait for him. Then...

  She pushed against his chest, taking her mouth away. “Jack won’t be able to double park for long. You better go.”

  Ask me to stay.

  She didn’t, so he left.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Peyton had pulled off a miracle. She hadn’t begged Noah to stay. Please don’t go had been on the tip of her tongue. By sheer willpower, she let him go. It was the hardest thing she’d ever done.

  She walked to the window. Noah came out of the building, Lucky at his side, and after opening the back door for Lucky to jump inside Jack’s car, he lifted his gaze to the window. He didn’t smile, didn’t mouth words to her, didn’t lift his hand to wave. He just looked at her, and then he walked around the front of the car, got in, and they left.

  “Don’t go,” she whispered. Please don’t go. The tears she’d managed to hold at bay in front of Noah fell down her cheeks. She crumpled to the floor, brought her legs up, and pressed her face to her knees.

  It was too quiet, the silence in the loft thick and heavy. She tried to draw air into her lungs, but it was hard to breathe. He hadn’t even said he’d call her. Her throat burned, her chest hurt, and the tears burned her eyes.

  Even the dog was gone, back in Jack’s care. She should have asked if she could keep him. God, she was a sad country song. Maybe she should get one of her beers to cry into.

  She swiped her hand across her cheeks, pushed up, and went to her bedroom. If she was going to be a sad country song, she was going all out. In her bottom drawer was the T-shirt she’d never given back to Noah. She brought it to her nose and inhaled. It didn’t smell like him anymore, and that brought more tears. Wasn’t fair that he’d even taken his scent with him. She put it on anyway.

  All she’d wanted were tingly kisses and someone intimidating enough to keep Dalton from hassling her. She’d gotten both those things along with a broken heart. She should have made Noah promise not to make her fall in love with him, but hindsight and all that. She crawled into her bed, pulled the covers over her head, and cried herself to sleep.

  When she woke up, the sun was setting. Jeez, she’d slept the day away. Now what? This broken heart thing was new, something she’d never experienced before, and she didn’t know what to do with herself. In the romance books she’d read, brokenhearted women drank wine and ate ice cream. She didn’t have any wine in her kitchen and cheese beat ice cream any day, so there it was. Her one-woman pity party...beer and cheese.

  She was headed for the kitchen when her doorbell rang. Noah? Her heart tried to dig its way out of her chest and race her to the door.

  “Oh. Hi,” she said at seeing Nichole.

  Nichole smiled, sympathy in her eyes. “Sorry I’m not Noah.” She held up an oversize bottle of wine and a brown bag. “Wine and ice cream, the go-to for all broken hearts.”

  “Come in.” She wasn’t up for company, and she really wanted that beer and cheese. Yet she’d never had the kind of friend she could pour her heart out to. Nichole was here, offering that to her, and it was nice.

  “This is a cool place.” Nichole set the wine on the kitchen island. “You doing okay, sweetie?”

  “Yeah. No. Not really.”

  “Well, I’m here to talk about how stupid men can be while we pig out. What’s your pity pick?”
She took five different pints of ice cream out of the bag. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I got a variety.”

  “Let’s give all five a go.” She got two spoons, handing one to Nichole.

  “I like how you think. You got a wine opener?”

  “Somewhere.” She found it, poured wine into wineglasses she’d never used before, and they settled on stools at the island, the pints lined up in front of them.

  “I fell in love with him,” she blurted.

  “Of course you did. It’s what we do. Fall in love with men who can’t get their heads out of their asses long enough to see the perfect woman right in front of them.”

  Peyton giggled. “Ain’t that the truth?”

  An hour later, a bit buzzed after finishing the bottle of wine and devouring half the ice cream, they’d compiled a list of all the ways men were stupid. “Even so, he has the sexiest butt,” Peyton said.

  Nichole sighed. “He sure does.”

  “Hey, you’re not supposed to be looking at Noah’s butt.”

  “What? I thought we were talking about Jack.”

  “Huh? Why would I be looking at Jack’s butt?”

  “You better not.”

  “I might have once, but it was on the way to searching for Noah’s butt when they were playing baseball.” She picked up the bottle and peered into it. “All gone. I need to go to sleep. You can’t drive home, ’cause of us drinking and all, so you can sleep in Noah’s room ’cause he’s gone and doesn’t need it anymore.” Why did she say his name? Now she was thinking about him again.

  “Nope, Jack brought me so I wouldn’t be driving home after drinking this.” She picked up the wine bottle, waving it in front of Peyton’s face.

  “Smart thinking.”

  “I didn’t think it. Jack did.”

  “Yeah, I meant him.”

  “Oh. Well, I’ll call him.”

  Peyton wasn’t sure how much time it took for Jack to arrive after Nichole called him. What she did know was that she wasn’t going to feel so great in the morning, and that she really, really liked her new friend.