Rev (Jack 'Em Up #4)

by Shauna Allen

  “You have no idea.”

  We played, and though she’d never admit it, I beat her soundly. We were pleasantly winded by the time we sat again to cool off and eat our lunch.

  “Can I ask another question?” she asked.

  “Are we still playing?”

  “Always.”

  “Okay.” I stuffed the last of my sandwich in my mouth. “Go for it.”

  “Tell me about your brothers.”

  “That’s not a question.”

  “Sure it is.” At my narrowed eyes, she huffed a playful sigh. “Fine. Will you please, sir, tell me about your brothers?”

  “That’s better. What do you wanna know?”

  She shrugged. “Whatever.”

  This one was easy. “Adam is the second oldest after me. He’s a carpenter in Austin. Nathaniel is next. He’s a bit of a nomad, doing this and that. Ethan is the baby. He’s in college.”

  “Do you all look alike?”

  “That’s two questions.”

  “I’ll forfeit my next one.”

  I shrugged, picturing my brothers. “Sure. I guess. Dark like our mom, except Nathaniel has light eyes.” She digested this like most girls, all dreamy-eyed. Girls loved my brother. “My turn. Craziest thing you’ve ever done?”

  “Strip poker.”

  My eyes about popped out of my head. “Strip poker?” I could not picture that and did not want to picture any man seeing her naked.

  She actually giggled. “High school. My best friend and I were hanging out with some neighborhood guys in their garage. It was hot. We were bored. Someone suggested strip poker. We agreed, thinking we’d beat them.”

  “Did you?”

  “No, not exactly.”

  Irrational, stupid jealousy filled me. It was only kid stuff, but I couldn’t seem to help myself.

  “Craziest thing you’ve ever done?” She turned my question back on me.

  “Join the Marines.”

  She studied my face as if searching for the truth. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously. I don’t regret it though. It was an adventure.”

  “It changed you.” She stated the obvious.

  I nodded, chugging the last of my water. “It changed me.”

  She plucked a piece of crust from her bread and tossed it to a duck waddling by the pond. With a quack, it scooped it up before another duck could. “Any more questions?”

  Always. “Do you think you’ll ever tell me?”

  I didn’t need to elaborate. Her eyes clouded as she fought with whatever demons held her back from telling me the truth of her past. I was pretty damn sure he had abused her, and that thought nearly crippled me, but I needed to hear it from her mouth.

  She took a deep breath. “I think so. Will you ever tell me?”

  The blood-soaked ground of Afghanistan ripped through my memory like a hacksaw. I glanced away, my heart dark and heavy. “I hope so.”

  As I drove Jewel home from the park, my phone buzzed with a text. At a red light, I checked the screen. Dempsey.

  I peered up and tightened my hands on the wheel.

  “Everything okay?”

  I nodded. “Sure.”

  “Bad news?”

  I faced her and concern was etched on her delicate features. “No. Just my old friend I told you about. I’ll text him back later.”

  She didn’t push for more and I was grateful. I drove on and searched my mind for a way to extend our day. We’d spent a lot of time together lately, but I still wanted more. “Wanna come to my place for dinner?”

  “You’re not sick of me yet?”

  I tensed at her lighthearted words that couldn’t disguise her uncertainty. “Never.”

  “Well, if you’re sure . . .”

  “I’m sure.”

  “That’d be nice. Thanks.”

  I let the music fill the void rather than say anything else and hit the accelerator. She didn’t seem to mind, eyes closed, her face up to catch the late afternoon breeze.

  I let her into my apartment and instantly regretted it. I hadn’t cleaned up. A pile of clean laundry was on the couch, waiting to be folded. A huge pile of unopened mail crowded my bar. I needed to take out the trash.

  I stood uncertainly by the door as she made a beeline for my wall of family photos. “Is this your mom?”

  “Yeah.”

  She leaned in to study the picture. “She’s beautiful.” She faced me. “You favor her.”

  I dropped my keys on the end table. “So I’ve heard.” I walked over and examined the photo again. We’d taken it right before I enlisted. Such naïve innocence shone in my eyes.

  Jewel’s arm brushed mine as she moved down to study an old picture of me and my brothers. She smiled. “Adorable.”

  “I knocked out Nathaniel’s front tooth the next day,” I informed her with a smirk. “Socked him right in the mouth when he stole my Millennium Falcon.”

  Her laugh was light and easy. “Boys. My brothers were the same way.”

  “I feel sorry for my mom and all she put up with. We all turned out okay though.”

  “You certainly did.” She turned back to the pictures before I could reply. “Don’t you have any military photos? I’d love to see you in uniform . . .” Her face dropped. “What?”

  “No.” I spun for the kitchen and began rifling through the cabinets.

  I felt her behind me, but she kept quiet.

  I leaned on the sink with my back to her and dropped my head. “I don’t like to remember.”

  Her hand was suddenly on my forearm. “I understand. It’s okay. I’m sorry I upset you.”

  I rolled my head to face her. “It’s not your fault. I’m just not there yet. I’m not sure I’ll ever be.”

  “Was it that bad?”

  “It was worse.”

  “Oh, God, Micah. I hate that you hurt.”

  “Ditto.”

  Our eyes met and the moment pulsed with more than simple attraction or lust. I would swear I felt my very soul yearning for hers, my heart mending itself as it basked in her light.

  “What a pair we are.”

  I huffed a wry half-laugh. “That’s no joke.” I pushed away from the counter. “How do you feel about spicy?”

  A half-smile curled her sweet lips. “I feel good about it.”

  “I was going to make spicy Asian beef tonight. I think I have enough for two.”

  “I feel really good about that. How can I help?”

  “Stand there and look pretty while I cook.”

  She quirked a brow at my use of the word ‘pretty’ but didn’t say anything. Instead, as I sliced and sautéed, she insisted on setting the table and continuing our question game.

  By the time we sat to eat, she’d learned my favorite color was gray, my first pet was a hamster I’d named Luke (after Luke Skywalker), my first kiss was with Jessica Royce, I got spanked plenty as a kid, but not as much as my brother, Nathaniel, and that I hated oatmeal.

  By silent agreement, we avoided all talk of the military and her ex, and it became easy after a while to pretend they didn’t exist. It was just us in this little bubble, two lost souls who’d found each other and shared a love for blueberries.

  I gleaned from her reactions and answers to my questions that she’d always been self-conscious of her weight, but it had been exacerbated by that fucker, Nolan, who obviously treated her like shit. I was at a loss as to how to help her see herself the way I did. Perfect in every way.

  Well, except that she wasn’t a Star Wars fan.

  This came out over coffee after dinner.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I chided. “George Lucas is a genius.”

  “I don’t know who that is.”

  My mouth fell open.

  “I’ve only seen the new one. I wasn’t impressed.”

  I thought I might pass out. “You never saw the original 1977 ‘Star Wars’? ‘The Empire Strikes Back’? ‘Return of the Jedi’?”

  “Nope.” She smir
ked into her coffee cup and I’d swear she was trying to torment me.

  “We’re going to have to rectify that.” I stood and began rifling through my DVDs.

  “Right now?”

  “Right now. I cannot allow you to go another day . . . another minute . . . without seeing the original ‘Star Wars’. It would be a crime against humanity.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

  I popped the disc in. “I do.”

  About halfway through the movie, right at one of the best movie battles of all time, I felt her snuggle into me. Then I realized she was fast asleep.

  So much for the genius of Lucas.

  Jewel

  I woke disoriented, but content. As the webs of sleep dissipated, I tried to orient myself. Utter darkness cocooned me and I was snuggled under an ultra-soft fleece throw. A soft light burned in a far-off corner and I flew to sitting as I realized where I was. Micah’s couch.

  He was nowhere to be found, but he’d obviously tucked me in and left the light on over the stove for me.

  “Oh, God,” I murmured to myself. I’d fallen asleep on him during his favorite movie of all time. How embarrassing.

  I found my cell phone on his coffee table and checked the time. Just after midnight. I struggled with what to do next. Should I wake him and ask for a ride home? Go back to sleep and beg forgiveness in the morning then ask for a ride to work?

  I stared at his closed bedroom door.

  Go slip into bed with him?

  I shook my head at that totally inappropriate thought.

  I settled back into the cushions. Totally relaxed, I realized I hadn’t felt this safe since I found that rose on my truck. I yawned and laid my head back. I would sleep a little longer then get up early and call Delilah for a ride if I had to.

  Something warm and soft brushed my face. My eyes flew open and met Micah’s smiling brown ones as he caressed my cheek. “Good morning.”

  I sat up straight and ran a hand through my hair. “Good morning.”

  He tipped his head toward the kitchen. “Coffee?”

  “Can I use your bathroom first?”

  “Sure.” He pointed down the hall. “My room’s on the left. You can use mine.”

  I nodded and moved to his room. Past the guest bath. Why would he send me into the privacy of his bedroom? I paused and stared at his unmade bed, inhaling the definitely masculine scent of his space. The only personal effects I noticed were his cell phone, wallet, and watch on the dresser, next to a belt and empty water bottle.

  His bathroom, however, was neat as a pin. His toiletries were lined up like little soldiers, his sink shiny clean. I used the restroom and washed my hands then finger-combed the worst of my tangles. My shirt was wrinkled and a crease from sleeping on a cushion was bright on my cheek. God.

  After straightening up the best I could, I glanced around. I couldn’t help myself. A driving desire to know this enigma of a man consumed me. I peeked behind his shower curtain and found a simple bottle of shampoo and a bar of soap. Nothing too exciting. His medicine cabinet was pretty bare, except for some Tylenol, Band-Aids, and cough drops. And a shiny woman’s hair clip. I frowned and snapped the cabinet closed. I had no right to snoop through his things, much less be upset or jealous.

  I left his room and found him pouring two bowls of cereal with a half-gallon of skim milk on the counter next to him. He peered up, a dimple teasing the corner of his mouth. “This okay?”

  I nodded and sat at the table, fighting the urge to ask him about the clip. “I’m sorry I crashed on you.”

  He set the bowls down and sat across from me. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “You didn’t have to let me sleep on your couch.”

  “I know that. I didn’t have the heart to wake you.”

  “Even after I insulted your favorite movie by falling asleep?”

  He picked up his spoon. “Even then.”

  I smiled and dunked my own spoon in the milk. “You spoil me.”

  His eyes darted up. “Good.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “I know what you meant, and I’m happy to spoil you. I’ll keep doing it if you let me.”

  I didn’t know what to make of that. We were friends, getting to know each other. Our future wasn’t clear-cut, and I wasn’t sure what he was suggesting. “You’re a good friend.” My admission was a ragged whisper.

  He frowned and dipped his spoon for another bite.

  “What?”

  His dark eyes held a depth of emotion I could not name. “That’s what we are? Friends?”

  “Aren’t we?”

  His spoon dropped to the table with a clank. “Yes. I guess I was just hoping . . .”

  My heart began to pound so loudly, I could feel it in my temples. “What were you hoping?”

  “Nothing.” He picked his spoon back up. “You’re obviously not interested. Sorry.”

  “Not interested in what?”

  His eyes seared me, making my heart double-over on itself. “In being with me.”

  “Being with you?” I echoed like a bird. “You mean . . . ?”

  “Never mind.” He stood and yanked up his half-eaten cereal and headed to the sink. “I’ll drive you home so you can get to work on time.”

  I stared at his back, willing my anxious heart to settle. Was he really saying what I thought he was? Could I dare hope or would he just break me? “I’ve wanted to be with you for a long time.”

  He spun around at my quiet, heartfelt words. “What was that?”

  “I think I’ve wanted to be with you since the day we first met. Definitely since Starbucks.” I swallowed, wondering where this bravado was coming from. I’d squelched my own strength ever since it’d been tossed in my face and nearly beaten from me. “I just don’t see how you could want to be with me. It feels too good to be true.”

  We stared openly at each other for several long moments. I’d spoken my truth, though I didn’t know how I managed it. The thought that it was Micah and his quiet support echoed in the back of my mind.

  “I’m not too good to be true, Jewel,” he finally said, his voice rough and gritty. “You are.”

  “No.” I stood and shoved away from the table.

  “You have no idea what I’ve done. What baggage I carry around. I could hurt you.”

  I froze. “You wouldn’t.”

  His face melted as he realized what he’d said. “No. I’d never hurt you like that. I meant that I’d be no good for your heart. I can’t give what I don’t have.”

  “So, what are you saying?”

  His head dropped. “I don’t know.”

  I studied the top of his head, assessing the situation. My heart was definitely on the line, but the urge to help heal his propelled me onward. “Well, let me see if I can piece it together. You think, maybe, you might want to be more than friends, but you’re afraid you’ll break my heart because you’re such an awful person. Is that about right?”

  “Yes.” The word sounded like it was ripped from his throat.

  Hope spiraled on butterfly’s wings through my chest. I stepped his way, my feet moving on faith that had sprung up from some unknown well. “I don’t think you’re an awful person,” I whispered, “and I can’t think of anything that would change my mind about that.”

  “Don’t be so sure.” His eyes were wary as I stepped further into his personal space.

  “Yeah?” I took a chance and brushed a hand through his hair.

  His eyes flitted closed momentarily as the breath left his body in a whoosh. “Yeah.”

  “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

  He stiffened.

  “Are you a thief?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “A rapist?”

  “God, no.”

  “Have you ever intentionally lied to me?”

  “No.”

  “Broken any major laws lately? Speeding doesn’t count.” I smiled.

  “Nope.”
>
  “Cheated on a woman?”

  “There haven’t been many women, but no. Never.”

  “Anything else grievous I should know about?”

  His eyes squeezed shut. “Yes.”

  I cupped his jaw. “Micah. Look at me.”

  It obviously pained him, but he did.

  “Whatever happened over there doesn’t matter to me, other than it hurts you. It was war. Bad things happen. I hope someday you’ll trust me enough to tell me the whole story, but please don’t think I’ll judge you.”

  The moment pulsed heavily between us, weighted down in both of our fear.

  “I won’t judge you either.”

  That was it. He broke me. I crumpled into his arms and he didn’t hesitate to wrap me up and hold me close as I clutched him like a frightened child.

  “Do you wanna be with me?” His breath puffed across my temple as I kept my face buried in his chest.

  I nodded. “Do you really want to be with me?”

  “More than you know.”

  I lifted my head to face him. “Are you sure?”

  “God, Jewel, I’m more than sure, which makes me a selfish prick.”

  “You won’t hurt me.”

  He said nothing, clearly not convinced.

  His body heat blanketed the front of my body and his citrusy ocean musk filled me. So did his sadness and his pain and his hope. “Let’s do it.”

  His eyes widened and I couldn’t help my grin.

  “I meant, let’s try it. Being together. We can take it in baby steps.”

  His grip on my hips tightened. “Are you serious?”

  “Well . . .” My hands slid up to his shoulders. “If you don’t mind a slightly insecure girl who doesn’t like Star Wars.”

  “I can live with that if you can handle a slightly insecure guy who doesn’t talk too much.”

  I laughed. He didn’t realize it, but we communicated just fine. “I think I can handle it.”

  Micah dropped me off at my apartment that morning and kissed me goodbye, the moment we shared in his kitchen still fresh in the air between us. We’d made our relationship official in not so many words, and we were both a little stunned.

  I watched him drive away and blew him a kiss just because I could, and he rewarded me with a giant smile.

  Humming, I spun and walked to my front door. I shoved my key in the lock and looked down.