A Promise to Keep

by Susan Gable

  “I remember.” He’d told her she didn’t have to dance with the devil to help her son, just with him. “I like it.”

  When they whirled back toward the car, she tightened her grip on his shoulder. He smoothly eased them to a stop. “What?”

  She reached into her front pocket, pulled out the yellow ticket. She held it up in front of him. “Prize time.”

  “Okay. What did you decide you want?”

  Life. Passion. To feel worthy and desirable for the first time in almost three years. She could hear Ian’s voice in her head, telling her that Hayden would take care of her.

  She wasn’t certain sex was what Ian had in mind, but got the distinct impression he would approve of her with his brother far more than he’d approve of her with Scott.

  She drew in a deep breath.

  “You.” Voice trembling slightly, she continued, “Let’s live a little. You lead, I’ll follow. Just...take it slow.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “YOU’RE SURE?” Hayden’s heart thudded against his ribs as if he’d just run across the city, not merely waltzed around an empty parking lot. “There’s no going back.”

  She nodded, holding out the ticket.

  Absentmindedly, he tucked it into his front pocket.

  Then he took her face tenderly in both hands. She closed her eyes. He leaned down, lightly resting his forehead on hers. “I’ve waited forever for this.” Every other woman he’d ever kissed had been a dress rehearsal, a practice run for this moment.

  It took supreme effort to relax, to open himself to Ronni. He began by brushing his mouth over hers, side to side, then circling. He kissed her top lip, her bottom lip—once, twice—then sucked gently.

  She sighed, and he pressed his lips fully to hers, inhaling through his mouth to capture that sweet breath. Her first surrender, first gift, to him.

  Her eyes fluttered open, revealing her surprise. He eased off on the pressure, feeling the edges of her mouth turn up. “Slow enough?” he drawled.

  Her head eased up and down, providing another set of sensations against his lips.

  “Good.” This time he started with the tip of his tongue, tracing the outline of her mouth, learning, memorizing its shape. One hand slid to the nape of her neck, the other stroked down her neck, shoulder, arm, then snaked around her waist to pull her flush against him.

  She wiggled. Just enough to short-circuit his brain, as all the blood rushed south. “Mmm.” He hummed in pleasure as he switched tactics, plunging his tongue into the warmth of her mouth. Running the tip along her teeth. Tickling the roof of her mouth.

  His pulse kicked up. His hand wandered to the seat of her jeans, exploring the curves he’d ached to touch. He needed to feel her without denim between them. Without anything between them.

  He forced himself to pull back. Return to a softer, lighter kiss.

  The sky chose that moment to open up and mimic a Panamanian rainstorm. A deluge. His already soggy clothes instantly adhered to his skin. Water dripped off the ends of her hair.

  She glanced up at him, her eyes unfocused in a way that sent satisfaction coursing through him. He’d gotten to her as much as she’d gotten to him.

  Ronni lifted a hand, shielding her eyes from the rain. “Do you think this is the universe’s way of telling us to knock it off? Putting out the fire, so to speak?”

  He laughed as he scooped her into his arms and ran to the car. “Hell, no. I think this is the universe’s way of telling us we need to get indoors and out of these wet clothes as soon as possible.”

  Beside the Camaro, he set her on her feet, quickly opening the door and tucking her into the passenger seat. If it hadn’t been wet, and this hadn’t been his new baby, he’d have slid across the hood. Because he could. And because it was faster.

  Instead, he settled for racing around the front end. A moment later, he slid in, dripping all over the driver’s seat. In a hurry to get her home, he shoved the keys into the ignition, revved the engine.

  As if his engine needed any more revving.

  It would take at least ten minutes to get to her house. Hayden didn’t want to let the mood go, let her start second-guessing herself.

  Car idling, he turned sideways. Crooked a finger at her.

  “I’m sorry you got so wet.” She inched toward the center console.

  “It was worth it. You’re worth it.” He beckoned her closer still, then mentally cursed the console and gear-shift between them. For an alleged chick magnet, the car wasn’t designed for making out.

  Hayden toed off his sneakers, dropping them on the mud mats. Then he spun and knelt on his seat, pulling her into his arms despite the obstacles between them. Again he started off slowly. Lightly. Kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, before making his way to her lips.

  Then he pushed harder, deeper. Moved to her neck, which she obligingly arched for him, granting full access. While grazing his teeth over her collarbone, he realized she trembled in his embrace.

  He pulled back. “You cold, sweetheart?” Despite the summer temperature outside, and the steaminess inside, he turned on the heat, pointing the vents in her direction.

  “N-not really,” she stammered, her eyes tightly shut.

  “Then what?” He ran his hands over her shoulders, rubbing her arms. “Ronni, look at me.”

  She cautiously opened her eyes, but instantly glanced down, not meeting his gaze.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I, um...” She fidgeted, and her voice dropped so low he could barely hear her. “I guess I’m scared.”

  “Of what? Dear God, not of me? I would never hurt you.” He stroked her cheek.

  “I know that. It’s just...” Her jaw quivered. “I, uh, I’ve only ever been with two men in my whole life. Ian and Scott. And you, you’ve been with... I don’t want to disappoint you.”

  “Oh, babe.” He shook his head. Mangano had mangled her self-confidence so badly. If Hayden could restore it, maybe she’d find the strength she needed to retake control of her life. “You’re a beautiful, sexy lady. Nothing about you could ever disappoint me. And anything that’s come before today...doesn’t matter. Life begins today, Ronni. My life, anyway. Give me your hand.” He held out his.

  She hesitantly put hers in it. He pressed her palm to the center of his soaked T-shirt. Normally this part of tantric foreplay involved both parties already being naked, but she needed it now. It also was meant to achieve more of a spiritual connection, but for the moment, he just wanted her to know how much physical impact she had on him. “Feel my heart pounding?”

  She nodded.

  “You made that happen.” He moved her hand lower, cupped it around the raging erection he sported. He gritted his teeth for a moment, resisting the urge to rock into her palm. “And this? Does this feel like a man disappointed in you?”

  A shy smile played on her lips as she shook her head. “I guess not.”

  “You guess not? Woman, if I get any harder, you’re going to have to carry me into your house.”

  “Then I should probably let go now. ’Cause that’s not likely to happen.”

  He freed her hand. Before she moved it away, she gave him a playful squeeze that left him groaning.

  “That was mean. Remember paybacks?” Relieved to see her trembling had stopped, he eased back into his own seat, pulling on his shoes. “I’m going to make you moan twice as loud.”

  “I believe you.” She fastened her seat belt and settled back with a sigh. “Damn. If kissing you is like that...”

  Gravel popped beneath the tires as he headed out of the parking lot. “Yes?” Call him shallow, but he loved having his ego stroked by a beautiful woman just as much as he liked having certain parts of his anatomy stroked by the same.

  “I can see why they line up for thirty days with you. Why they settle for thirty days with you. How does that work, anyway? Thirty days from the time you sleep with them, right? So, I’ve got until August 21?” She stiffened. “You’re not going to d
ump Nick when you dump me, are you? ’Cause if you are, this is so off.”

  At the Walnut Creek exit’s stop sign, he jammed on the brakes harder than necessary. “What?” He put the car in neutral. “Thirty days? Dump Nick? Dump you? No foxtrot-ing way. On either count. What part of ‘My life starts today’ was unclear?”

  “Umm...all of it? Hayden, I thought we were just going to—”

  He slammed his fist into the steering wheel as what she thought became all too clear. “You thought I was going to break my number one rule—no married women—for a thirty-day fling? Sleep with you like you were just one of the others, then walk away? Well, you thought wrong, honey.” His erection shriveled. Record time deflation. She may as well have dumped a bucket of ice water in his lap.

  Love ’em and leave ’em didn’t feel quite so good on this side of the equation. He’d always assumed that because the women he got involved with agreed to his terms, never had any complaints when it was over and were well-loved and well-satisfied during the relationship, he’d never hurt any of them.

  Now he felt the need to break the “do not initiate contact after the relationship is over” rule, open up the “little black book” section of the contact list on his phone, call a florist and send dozens of apology notes.

  A car pulled up behind them. Hayden opened the window just far enough to stick his arm out and wave it around. There wasn’t tons of traffic for them to worry about. More rain made it into the car before he got the window closed again.

  “I’m sorry,” Ronni said. She reached for his arm.

  “Please don’t touch me right now.”

  She recoiled, and he wanted to kick himself. Way to make her see how much more he needed from her. He eased the car through the intersection, his muscles still tight. As they headed up the hill, the wipers kept up a mad tempo against the deluge. When they stopped at the red light at the top, the rapid ratcheting of the blades across the window was the only sound.

  Until Ronni’s phone rang. She pulled it from the purple ankle purse still draped along the center console. A quick glance at it and she cursed. “What’s up?”

  Hayden divided his focus between his driving and her reactions—the sharp intake of breath, the tension that radiated from her within seconds.

  “You had them take him to Saint Joseph’s, right? Not the VA? After the last time there, I want him at Saint Joe’s... When?”

  Shit. Something had to be wrong with Scott.

  “I was down at Walnut Creek access. Cell coverage is iffy there.” She glanced down at herself, smoothing her soaked jeans as if doing so would magically render them dry. “I’ll head over to the hospital as soon as I can. Thanks.” She jabbed at the phone, then tucked it back into the purse, which she gripped in her hand.

  “What’s going on with Scott?”

  “He’s having trouble breathing. They think he’s got pneumonia.”

  The word pneumonia seemed to slug Hayden in the gut, driving all the air from his lungs. He struggled to breathe himself, to maintain control of the car.

  Fortunately, the storm began to lighten.

  Double pneumonia had killed Ian. His fragile immune system, suppressed by the chemotherapy he’d been receiving, hadn’t been up to the fight.

  That he’d been despondent over the situation with Ronni hadn’t helped.

  Neither had the fact that Hayden, who’d sensed something else was wrong with his brother, had agreed to keep Ian’s secret about feeling so much worse.

  Was it possible Ronni was about to lose the second man in her life the same way?

  When they pulled into her driveway, she’d already popped her seat belt. “I’m sorry, Hayden. This really isn’t what I’d had in mind when I asked you to spend Ian’s birthday with me.” She leaned over, brushed her lips across his cheek. “And I’m really sorry I didn’t get it before.”

  He snorted. “I’m sorry you didn’t ‘get it’ before, too.”

  She offered him a weak smile at the innuendo. “We’ll talk later, okay?” With that, she bounded from the car, racing into the house.

  After just a moment’s contemplation, he got out of the car and walked to the trunk to retrieve his gym bag.

  ###

  Shrugging a dry shirt over her head, Ronni spoke loudly through the fabric so the speaker on her cell, which she’d set on her dresser, would pick up her voice. “I don’t know, Tam. No bookings today, of course. My regulars know I take this day off every year. But I’ve got appointments tomorrow. I’ll cancel or postpone them, but Mrs. Johnson really needs a cut and color tomorrow. Can you take her for me?”

  “If I have to stay till ten tomorrow night, I’ll fit her in for you,” her friend declared. “Don’t sweat it. You want me to sneak over and post a sign on your shop door? Family Emergency, blah, blah, blah? Urgent Bad Hair Days Call A Cut Above, and my number?”

  “That’d be great.” She grabbed yesterday’s jeans from the laundry basket, jumped into them. “Hopefully this will resolve quickly, and we’ll be right back to the same dull routine.” A massive wave of guilt threatened to drown her. She’d been having a blast, making out with Hayden, while Scott had been transferred from the nursing home by ambulance.

  “Keep me in the loop about Scott. And if you need anything else, you know how to find me. I’ll swing by the hospital as soon as I can.”

  “Thanks, Tam.” Ronni tossed her cell into her big purse. She dashed into the bathroom, flipped on her blow-dryer and hastily made some semblance of order from the mess. A few quick passes with a curling iron, and she looked at least fit to be seen in public again.

  She’d called Lydia, just so Nick wouldn’t be blindsided if everything went to hell in a handbasket in a hurry. Lydia had offered to keep Nick as long as she needed.

  Ronni would put off calling Vera until she could get to the hospital, speak to a doctor herself and assess the situation. Scott had battled pneumonia months ago and won. But the doctors had told her then that it would likely be something similar, some kind of infection, that would eventually take him.

  As she pulled on dry socks, she paused to finger the tattoo. The way Hayden had touched her, kissed her... She shivered. He’d certainly aced the job of making her feel alive again.

  But now Scott was in trouble. And it was her job to take care of him. She smoothed the white fabric over the Liberty Bell.

  Freedom wasn’t free. That was a common saying in the military community, whose members knew all too well that the cost was measured in lives. In limbs. In shattered psyches.

  The only “exit strategy” Ronni had ever envisioned involved Scott’s death. But now that the possibility loomed again... She didn’t want her freedom to come at the price of Scott’s life, even if that life wasn’t much to speak of.

  Even if his death had been the only way she’d ever seen their numb, not-really-alive existences ending.

  She grabbed her bag, barreled down the hallway. Skidded to a stunned halt in the kitchen, where Hayden, now clad in dry clothes of his own, was polishing off a sandwich. “W-what are you doing here? I thought you left.”

  He stuffed the last bit of food into his mouth while he shook his head. He washed it down with several gulps of water. “Here.” He handed her a sandwich in a plastic bag—which explained why several of the cabinets were open. “Let’s move. I’m going to the hospital with you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I care about you. I’m not letting you do this alone.”

  A sense of comfort filled her. Though he’d been court-ordered into her life, he’d truly had her back since then. Which made her feel worse about the “misunderstanding” they’d had. “Even after before?”

  He waved a hand. “I’m over that already. My own fault. You expected from me exactly what I always do.” His shoulders rose. “Can’t blame you for that, can I?”

  “But what will people think if you’re at the hospital with me?”

  “First of all, I don’t give a damn what people think. S
econdly, they’ll think that your friend, who’s been at your place damn near every day so far this summer, is helping you with a family crisis. What’s the big deal?”

  “You’re right. Let’s go.” She set the sandwich on the counter, picked up her purse and headed for the door.

  “We’ll take my car, and I’m driving,” he announced.

  “No, your car seats are wet. We’ll be damp all over again. We’ll take my car.”

  “Okay, but I’m still driving. This way I can drop you off at the hospital entrance and then park the car. Hand over the keys.”

  As soon as he’d backed the car from the driveway, he tossed the bagged sandwich at her. “Eat. I have the feeling it’s going to be a long afternoon.”

  “My stomach can’t take that right now.”

  He sighed. “I’m a health teacher. I know what I’m talking about. Your body can’t run without fuel.”

  “Gosh, I never knew that. Thanks, Mom.” She stuffed the sandwich into the pair of cup holders in the middle of the car.

  They rode to Saint Joseph’s without further conversation, Ronni wrapping the strap from her purse around her hand, then unwrapping it. True to his word, Hayden dropped her off at the hospital’s main entrance, then went to park the car at the municipal garage next door.

  The volunteer staffing the main reception desk checked the computer, which indicated Scott was still in the E.R. Ronni took the elevator downstairs.

  The nurse at the triage desk in the E.R. checked her computer, then directed Ronni through the doors around the corner, to the private room where Scott lay, eyes closed, on a gurney with the side rails up.

  Ronni leaned over the metal railing, stroked his hair. “I’m here, Scott.” Heat radiated from him—a sign of the fever that raged as his body struggled with the illness. She grazed her fingers over his chin, over the roughness of his beard stubble. “No one bothered to shave you this morning. I’m sorry about that.”

  Each expansion of his chest appeared to take an effort. His breathing was raspy. Slow.

  Ronni’s own chest tightened. She swallowed a huge lump in her throat, blinking back tears. Despite everything that had happened, it still hurt to see him like this. She tried to convert that pain to anger. She had to advocate for him here, and being a puddle of mush wasn’t going to help.