Lost in the Wind

by Calle J. Brookes

  “Tell me about your first.” She busied herself with taking out her contacts.

  “I was sixteen and she was seventeen…”

  It startled a laugh out of her. She shoved her glasses back up her nose and looked at him.

  He had set his Styrofoam container on her table. Hers was across from it.

  It looked like she was about to have company for dinner.

  Male company, at that.

  Strangely enough, she didn’t mind. It had been more than four years since she’d been alone in her private space with a man at all. Four years. She wasn’t that pitiful, was she?

  She still wasn’t ready to be alone yet.

  She grabbed the drink that came with her meal to cover the sudden awkwardness. “Not what I meant, Alvaro, and you know it.”

  “I was in Bosnia. A peace-keeping mission. A family of six came in, victims of a car accident. The teenage boy had been in the rear passenger seat and took a direct hit. Tall, thin, dark eyes and hair. He was awake when he was pulled out of the car. Asked me if he was going to die in broken English. I told him no, but it was obvious to everyone in the room that he was going to. Adin. His name was Adin, and he wanted to be a poet.”

  “I’m sorry. My first was a little girl. Terminal, genetic. Her heart. We didn’t find a donor in time.” Her breath hiccupped. Tears threatened again. “The little boy today was named Aidan. He liked Ninja Turtles and Chewbacca.”

  She was close enough for him to touch. Nikkie Jean hadn’t realized that until it was happening. Warm fingers wrapped around her wrist, and he pulled her closer.

  Well, he guided. There was no pulling about it.

  She could smell him, could feel the warmth he exuded. He felt like a real human being next to her. She hiccupped again.

  “Sit. Eat. Talk to me.”

  Nikkie Jean did just that.

  11

  CAINE LISTENED AS she talked. Nikkie Jean was one of those physicians who would remember every patient, and would remember every lost patient ten times as strongly. They finished the takeout, and she hopped up, gathering the trash as she did. He just watched her as she buzzed around.

  If she stopped buzzing, then she’d have to start thinking again. He was starting to figure this woman out.

  Just like him, this woman had her demons to fight.

  “I…thanks for the ride. I’ll get a ride to work tomorrow and get someone to tow my car. I really appreciate you driving me home.” She looked everywhere but at him.

  “Just returning the favor.” Caine stood to go. She wouldn’t meet his eyes, but some of the haze had left her. She’d be ok. No doubt she’d call one of her friends and they’d get her through the night.

  She didn’t need him.

  And he didn’t need her. He had to remember that. No matter how much he wanted to reach out and stop her. Keep her from buzzing around, fighting the grief.

  Caine wanted to hold her.

  Realization hit him hard. He wanted to hold her.

  To see if her skin was as soft as it looked.

  He stood, probably too abruptly.

  Nikkie Jean took an immediate step back. Right into the edge of her table.

  Caine’s hands dropped to her waist, and he steadied her. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to get in your space.”

  “It’s the kitchen,” she almost whispered. “It’s a bit small. But since it’s just me…you smell nice.”

  She leaned closer.

  “And I’m not exactly small.” She was. Small and built to perfection. His hands tightened as the scent of jasmine hit him. Before he knew it, he was lifting her off her feet. “And so do you.”

  She wasn’t pushing him away. Her hands flexed on his arms.

  “Dr. Alvaro, what exactly…are you doing?” Wide hazel eyes blinked up at him.

  “What does it look like I’m doing?” But Caine would make one thing absolutely clear. “Tell me to stop, and I will. I’ll walk out of here, and we can just forget I—oh, hell. We both know what I’m doing.”

  He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers.

  12

  NIKKIE JEAN DID NOT want him to stop. It was as simple as that. She wanted to feel another human being. To feel that someone else out there knew she was alive. Had noticed her.

  Wanted to feel that she hadn’t been the one forgotten tonight. Not like she had been thirteen years ago.

  Caine…he looked like Rafe. One of the few men she could trust. She wasn’t stupid; she knew she was conflating the two in her head somehow.

  She never would want to kiss Rafe. There wasn’t even a drop of attraction between them. None at all.

  Not like there was with this man.

  Caine Alvaro and Rafe might look the same, but they were not the same man at all. It was important for her to remember that. To see each man for who they were. Individuals.

  Seeing people as individuals instead of threats was a big thing for her. Especially now.

  “I…I’m not looking for a relationship.” Especially with another doctor. She’d tried that four years ago. It hadn’t gone well. But Nikkie Jean didn’t want to think about doctors and hospitals—or the past. She just wanted to…not feel alone right now.

  Caine didn’t look like a doctor now. Not in his jeans and dark T-shirt that fit him almost like a second skin. It had a Star Wars storm trooper on it.

  It was so different from what she would have expected him to wear. It made him seem almost human.

  His dragon tattoo stared at her, too. Telling her without words that there was so much more to this man than the title of doctor.

  No. He wasn’t a doctor tonight. He was a man with arms holding her tightly. Just for one night.

  “I’m not either. I don’t have time for anything other than my children and Barratt County.”

  “I’ve never done this before—well, the whole just jump into bed with someone thing.” She’d had three lovers in thirteen years. Those relationships had been as healthy as she could make them. Never had she entered into sex lightly.

  “Progressing a bit fast there?”

  “Why be stupidly closed about it? You kiss me, I know what you’re going to want. Open communication, honesty, and clear expectations are super big ones for me, Alvaro. I kiss you, and I…could want that same thing, too.” She’d never been with a man as big and strong and forceful as the one holding her. Nikkie Jean knew the why of it, too.

  Fear. She’d been afraid. Afraid of being too small to fight back again.

  She’d also seen what fear could do.

  She was so tired of living that way. All fear was getting her was a closed off life with barely anyone close to her.

  Annie and Izzie, that was it. Jillian, Lacy, and a few others on the periphery. And she was even too afraid to get super close to them. Afraid of what would happen.

  Afraid of inevitable rejection.

  She was tired of feeling so alone all the time. So afraid of the world and everyone male in it. Caine Alvaro could hold back the world with his arms. That was for sure.

  One of the women at W4HAV had a saying that she liked to quote during group therapy sessions that she and Nikkie Jean co-ran. Fear robbed you of the future. Don’t let it.

  Nikkie Jean suspected she’d been letting fear rob her of a present, too, lately. She’d found a safety zone and stayed there. But that wasn’t living. She knew that. Years of therapy had made that clear to her.

  Nikkie Jean wanted to live her life as if every moment was the last. Because she knew all too well that each moment could be.

  That had been a lesson she’d learned when she’d been sixteen years old. It wasn’t a lesson she was going to forget.

  Her hands tightened on his arms.

  Well, she was starting to feel pretty present at the moment now.

  “I do want to be with you tonight.” He almost growled it at her. “But it won’t go anywhere. Not long term. It just can’t. I got my children to focus on. And Barratt County is a mess right now.”r />
  “Believe me, I know.” She wasn’t the type of woman men like him went for long term. No. That would be women like Lacy and Jillian who weren’t afraid of their own shadow. Who went after what they wanted full-tilt. Nikkie Jean wasn’t anywhere near ready for that kind of risk. If she ever was. “But there’s no reason we can’t…have tonight, right? Don’t you ever feel alone sometimes, Alvaro?”

  It was the boldest question she had ever asked in her thirty years and two months and four days on the planet.

  “If you want to stop at any point, you tell me. I’ll listen. Even if you have to yell it.”

  Somehow, he just knew she needed that. Nikkie Jean appreciated it.

  “Kiss me, Alvaro. I just want you to kiss me. Then whatever comes next. I just want to forget everything for a while.”

  Caine could help her do just that.

  13

  HAZEL EYES STARED INTO HIS. Big, wide, uncertain. It was the small bit of uncertainty that had him pausing. “You sure about this? We don’t have to go up the stairs, Netorre.”

  She nodded, small hands tightening on his shoulders again. Somehow, he’d ended up lifting her. It was easy to do. “I’m tired of feeling so alone sometimes. Why shouldn’t we…just for tonight. Tonight won’t hurt anyone, will it? I won’t tell; you won’t tell. No one ever has to know but us. You can go in the morning, and we never have to…”

  “No, it won’t.” But he had a feeling it would change everything—for him.

  She touched something in him that he wasn’t ready to evaluate yet. Maybe he’d only seen the woman twice, but that was enough for him to know she was far too dangerous for him long term.

  She was the kind of woman a man would change his whole world for. But Caine wasn’t the kind of man who could do that. He’d done that for a woman once before; April had almost destroyed him.

  She would be the first woman he’d been with since his wife’s betrayal two and a half years ago. Even before that, he and April hadn’t exactly had a raging-hot sex life.

  Well, he hadn’t. He would never have any way of knowing how many men his ex-wife had been with, even while they were married. She’d enjoyed throwing that up to him many times. That, and the fact that his youngest might not have been his. She’d held that over him for eight months, until Dalton had been born and there had been no denying whose son he was. He’d never opened the results from the DNA test to confirm it; he hadn’t cared. Dalton was his son, through and through. “I’ve been tested. I’m clean. And I have a condom.”

  He carried it with him, not because he’d expected to use it, but because after April, he would never take risks again.

  Her cheeks turned red. “Me, too. I have a couple in the drawer. If you don’t mind stripes. They were part of a gag gift for…and…I can’t have children, Caine. At least, the likelihood of me ever getting pregnant even with help is less than twelve percent. I calculated it myself once. And I don’t sleep around. I never have.”

  His arms tightened around her. He heard the hurt she no doubt hadn’t meant to show. “Me, either. My wife—late wife—she was the only woman for eight years.”

  She shrugged, still held in his arms. Her legs had wound around his hips. “I don’t want to think about stuff like that. Nothing sad or bad. Not tonight. I just want to forget and not be so alone. With you.”

  Caine could do that. He tightened his arms around her and kissed her. Right there in her kitchen.

  And then he carried her to her bedroom.

  14

  HER BREATH CAUGHT as he lowered her to her bed. Never had she slept with a man in her own bed. Her bedroom was her sanctuary. About the only place Nikkie Jean truly felt safe.

  Allowing a man into that space was a major step for her.

  But she wasn’t going to think about that now.

  Caine followed her down, looming over her. Nikkie Jean held up a hand between them. “Just…don’t come at me from behind. Ever. That…I just don’t like that.”

  He hesitated for a moment. “Understood. We don’t have to rush. We…can just get to know each other now.”

  She nodded. “I…I’m not very experienced.”

  “We won’t rush.” He hooked an arm around her waist, and then they were rolling. Before she knew it, Nikkie Jean was straddling the man’s absolutely perfect hips and looking down at him.

  The scar through his eyebrow made him look sexy and dangerous and wild.

  He was definitely the wildest thing she had ever done. That was for sure.

  “How did you get the scar?”

  “IED. I was in the military for ten years.”

  She brushed a finger over it, not saying a word. She had scars of her own. “It gives you a pirate look.”

  “So I’ve heard.” He ran a finger down her cheek. “You have one, too.”

  “Yes. But…I don’t ever talk about it. It was…traumatic.” Her breath hitched, as she looked at him. Nikkie Jean pulled in a deep breath. She leaned down and kissed him.

  Caine’s hands came up and wrapped around her waist. His body tightened beneath her. She could feel the hunger thrumming through him. The need.

  For her.

  Yet, even though he could, he wasn’t rushing her. He wasn’t grabbing and just taking.

  He was letting her lead.

  That was exactly what she did.

  Caine knew something significant was happening with his partner. He just didn’t know what it was. She’d lost all the confidence and snark and energy that had characterized her in those earlier encounters they’d had. In their place was a sweet hesitancy that he would never have expected.

  Whatever it was had him going slower than he wanted.

  Nikkie Jean needed that. And not just because of what had happened hours earlier.

  It was more than that.

  He kissed her when she kissed him. He touched her only after she led.

  When she’d said she wasn’t experienced, she hadn’t lied.

  That inexperience had some of his own awkwardness dissipating.

  Caine hadn’t had impulsive sex with a woman in more than fifteen years. He wasn’t exactly an old hand at it, himself.

  “Can I take this off?” she asked, almost shyly, pulling at the band of his T-shirt.

  Caine pulled the shirt off and tossed it toward the floor.

  “I have more scars.” Scars he’d earned when a damned truck had driven into his encampment during his first deployment years ago. He had shrapnel still in one shoulder that would probably never come out.

  “So do I. But they are in here.” She touched her forehead lightly. “They’ll probably never heal.”

  “I know. Trust me: I know.” He had his own scars. Inside and out. They would never heal, either. “Can I kiss you?”

  She nodded. “I think I’d like that. Very much.”

  Caine pulled her to him. One thin braid brushed against his chest. Her glasses bumped his nose. “Do we need the glasses now?”

  She nodded fiercely. “I…can’t see without them. I can’t be that vulnerable. I need my glasses.”

  There was more than fear beneath her words. Caine just nodded. It made sense why she had so many pairs now. “I’ll be careful with you.”

  He could break her far too easily. She was so small. So…vulnerable.

  Even if she never wanted to admit it.

  Caine pulled her closer and covered her mouth with his own, determined to go as slowly as she needed. His hands trembled with the need to touch her. To be with a woman who actually wanted to be with him.

  April hadn’t wanted to be with him for a long while. She’d never forgiven him for not getting out of the military and taking a job from one of the hospitals that had offered him positions off and on through the years.

  She’d wanted him to make enough money to give her what she wanted from life. He’d wanted to save patients who needed him most.

  He’d been damned good at running field hospitals for the army. That passion had fueled him. />
  He hadn’t retired until April had been gone and buried. And that had been so he could better care for the children.

  His whole life had been for the children for two years now. But he didn’t think of that when he had her in his arms. Caine’s hold tightened around her. He just wanted to feel her heart beating against his again.

  For the first time in years, he didn’t feel alone.

  It hadn’t been magical sex. Nikkie Jean knew that miracle, magical sex to cure all ills was just a stupid old wives’ tale. Some people thought women who had been traumatized the way she had just needed some “good, healthy sex” to fix everything.

  Yeah, right. That just didn’t happen. Sex didn’t fix everything.

  It had still been pretty good. As far as she could tell in her limited experience.

  And at least he didn’t think his prowess in the bedroom would clear up all of her hang-ups associated with sex. Not like she’d come up against before.

  Any minute now, she thought he’d start purring.

  Now that it was over, she didn’t know exactly what to do next. She had a three-hundred-fifty-pound dragon in her bed, looking all warm and sated.

  Sex was very complicated for her. It always would be.

  The last man she’d been involved with—it had started out normally. As normally as she could make it, anyway. She’d had years of therapy to that point, after all. And she’d been determined to take it slow. He’d been ok with that. At first.

  He had thought she had been a virgin. When he’d learned differently, he’d expected more from her. When she couldn’t give it, he’d gotten impatient. Blamed her.

  They’d broken up because he couldn’t deal with her baggage regarding what had happened to her when she’d been sixteen.

  Her baggage she’d have always, but that didn’t mean she had to take it out of the closet every time she got naked with someone. He hadn’t been able to understand that fact.

  They hadn’t lasted even a month after that first night in bed together.