by Janie Crouch
Oh lord, his tongue moving gently against her lips. Sipping, almost. Smooth and rhythmic. Lush.
When had she last been kissed this way? Had she ever?
Marilyn’s heart hammered hard enough to make her wonder whether he could hear it. No, he couldn’t have since he was too busy kissing her like a man with all the time in the world and nowhere else he’d rather be.
He gently nipped at her bottom lip before running his tongue over the sweet sting, his hand cradling her head like she was some precious thing. Heady warmth—which had nothing to do with her workout—flushed through her body.
She ran her fingers through his thick hair, testing its softness like she’d wanted to for so long, and pulled him closer. She wanted to keep kissing him like this forever.
And they might have if Corfu and Thing One hadn’t finally wandered into the barn and decided they wanted in on the fun. She felt Noah’s smile against her mouth as the dogs tried to butt their heads between their bodies.
She pulled back slightly, more than a little breathless. “I guess they’re our chaperones.”
He trailed a finger down her cheek. “You okay?”
“I’ll admit it’s been a while for me. I’m out of practice.” She felt foolish admitting that.
“Seemed just fine to me. More than fine.”
She wasn’t sure if the heat coloring her cheeks was from embarrassment or delight. She looked at the floor. “That was my first kiss since Jared.”
Just thinking about him had tension creeping back into her muscles. She walked back toward the punching bag. She was too tired to hit at it anymore. But, God, how she wished it was Jared for real. She wouldn’t be too tired then.
Noah stayed back against the barn wall. “You want to talk about your panic attack today? Do you know the trigger?”
Yeah, she knew today’s trigger. That hadn’t been difficult to pinpoint. “Today I found out that Jared has appealed the judge’s refusal to grant bail.”
Noah’s walked over, his jaw tight. “That’s a pretty good reason for anxiety.”
“I got the call this morning, and thought I was handling it fine. Kept calm. Asked my questions. Hung up and went about my day.”
“And then?”
She tapped her head against the bag in frustration. “I’m in the middle of vacuuming and the next thing I know, I’m curled up under the table screaming. Bree thought I was being murdered.”
He slid his hand between her forehead and the bag the next time there was an opening, stopping her head-butts. “A panic attack is understandable after getting that news, even hours later.”
She rubbed her eyes. “I wasn’t as upset that I had the attack as much as that it took me so long to find my way back out of it.”
Trapped back in that hell, Jared’s voice calling her stupid.
You’ll always be mine.
She shrugged, trying to get the sound of his voice out of her head. Just like earlier, she couldn’t push the voice out.
She thought she’d been stronger than that. Made more progress.
“Progress isn’t always linear.” She didn’t realize she’d said the words out loud until he responded. “It’s jagged. One step forward, two dozen steps back. But it’s still progress.”
“Yeah. I guess.”
He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and kissed her temple. “Let’s get you some water. You’ve given yourself quite the workout.” He reached up and flexed his jaw, feeling it with his fingers. “Gave my jaw a workout, too.”
She was about to apologize again when he winked at her.
She elbowed him gently in the side. “That’s what you get for baiting me.”
“Just promise you won’t tell Tanner. My brother will never let me live it down.”
“Oh, I make no promises.”
They got inside and he tossed her a water bottle from the fridge. “What details did you find out about Jared’s release?”
She took a sip. “Denver law enforcement will notify me if he’s granted bail since my restraining order is still in place.”
“Then let’s just hope the judge has the good sense to hold up the original ruling. Tanner says there’s a lot of evidence against him.”
“I know it’s unlikely he’ll be released,” she whispered, “but it’s still possible. Here I was, thinking I had years before I had to worry about him, and he might be out in a few weeks.”
“Hey.” He walked over and gently squeezed her shoulder. “Let’s not borrow trouble. You’ve been working hard for months. You’re not the same person you were. And once he’s tried, he’ll go away for a long time.”
“I know. Everything just caught me off guard.”
His hand eased her against his chest, and she didn’t even think of pulling away. She burrowed against him.
“You going to be okay?”
She nodded against his chest. “Being here with you helps. Sparring helped a lot, too. And the… you know, definitely helped.”
Thank God he couldn’t see her face. It had to be on fire.
“I was pretty fond of the you know myself.” He poked her gently in the side.
She leaned back to harass him about teasing her, but when she caught sight of his face, she couldn’t help herself. She reached up on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on those soft lips again instead.
She’d be embarrassed about how she couldn’t seem to keep her lips off of his if it all didn’t feel so good. If it didn’t start fire crackling in places she’d thought were frozen solid.
She’d had to freeze herself in order to survive. The thought had her drawing back from him.
Concern laced those green eyes. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t want you to ever feel like you owe me anything or that you have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
“I know.” But she flinched, she couldn’t help it.
“I mean it. I don’t expect anything. We’re figuring this out as we go, and it’s okay for you to change your mind at any point. Okay? I don’t want you to be afraid of me. Of being close.”
“I’m not. I’ve never been afraid of you. I promise.”
He reached up and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. She didn’t even want to think about how she must look. “I know we’ve talked about some of Jared’s favorite violent moves so you would know how to best counter them. But we’ve never talked about whether he… Whether the violence extended into the bedroom.”
Oh God, how was she supposed to answer that question? Had Jared actually ever hurt her in the bedroom? Hit her? Raped her?
No. But the other—
Her brain immediately shut it down. She couldn’t think about that. Couldn’t even fathom what Noah’s opinion of her would be if he knew the truth. What she’d allowed.
“No. He never raped me. For the last few years, he wasn’t even interested in me that way at all.” She looked away. There was so much she wasn’t telling him.
He knew it too. When he gently grabbed her chin between his thumb and finger to bring her gaze back to him, she could hardly bear it. There was so much concern in his eyes.
“I promise I’m telling the truth. Jared didn’t rape me.”
Noah’s green eyes narrowed. “Regardless, with me—with us—all it takes is one word and we’ll stop. At any point, for any reason.”
She leaned her forehead against his chest, partially because she couldn’t stand to meet his eyes any more, but mostly because it felt so good. He felt so good. All that strength being used to help her, protect her.
“Thank you,” she whispered as she finally looked up at him. “For being so understanding. For the sessions. The sparring. All of it. You haven’t scared me. Just the opposite, in fact.”
He kissed her again, just as gentle as before, his large hands cupping her face, lips soft on hers.
But it wasn’t long before the kiss became deeper, more consuming. His tongue found hers, dueled, played, teased. She gave hersel
f over to the sensation. The sweetness of it. Her thoughts slowed as a heavy warm feeling filled her like honey.
It wouldn’t take much to get addicted to it.
She wasn’t sure how long they kissed. When he picked her up and set her on the counter so they could get closer to each other, she let out a soft moan at the feel of him pressed against her.
“I thought you catching me with that left hook was the sexiest thing ever,” he said against her lips. “But that sound you just made definitely tops the list.”
She smiled, slid her fingers into his hair, and pulled him closer.
There were no dogs to break them apart this time, but eventually, they stopped. She had responsibilities back at home and had already been away too long.
And she wasn’t ready. Not yet.
“I should get going.” She studied him to look for any hints of frustration, despite what he’d assured her of earlier.
But there were none. He leaned forward and kissed her on the tip of her nose before helping her down from the counter.
“You’re welcome here any time. For the punching bag, to use me as the punching bag,” he touched his jaw again and winked, “or for kisses.”
“You’re sure? I’m not trying to be a tease.”
“If you’re not trying to be a tease, then hit me harder next time.”
10
It was a quiet sort of night. Peaceful. Evening sounds from here on his front porch swing were sweet music to Noah’s ears. The singing of crickets, howls from far-off coyotes. That could be a lonesome sound when a man was in a lonesome sort of mood.
That wasn’t him tonight. Not after what had happened with Marilyn today.
He wasn’t sure what it said about him exactly that a solid punch to the chin was what had galvanized him into kissing Marilyn. Probably what his mother had been saying about him his whole life—he was hard-headed.
There were two things he knew for sure as he sat out on this ranch that had become such a part of him.
One, he could’ve spent the rest of his life kissing Marilyn Ellis. He’d been no saint, especially in his younger years, and had known his fair share of kisses. But none had been like tonight. That incredible mix of sweet and sexy and… Marilyn.
The sound of her moan when he’d set her up on that counter. Damn. It was enough to get him hard just thinking about it.
He would’ve kissed her until their lips were too sore to keep going if there had been time. Taking it to the bedroom would’ve been more than fine with him, but just kissing her had been damn near perfect. He’d been happy to stay in the kitchen and drown in her sweet lips.
The second thing he knew was that she was keeping something from him.
They’d talked about her abuse some and she’d agreed to let Tanner share the police report with Noah so he’d know what they were up against a bit better.
Noah had been silent as he looked through the files a couple of months ago in Tanner’s office. Looked through the gruesome photos of Marilyn’s injuries—broken wrist, cracked ribs, a concussion so severe it had required a medically-induced coma.
That had come from a kick to the head. The police report couldn’t confirm it, but Noah had no doubt.
And these were just photos from one incident. Nobody but Marilyn knew exactly how many times she’d been hurt by Ellis.
For the first time in his life, Noah understood the term consuming rage.
Five minutes in a dark alley with Jared Ellis was all he needed.
He wouldn’t kill the other man. Killing Ellis quickly was too good for that bastard. But five minutes alone with him would be all it would take for Noah to make sure Ellis never moved, spoke, or ate solid food again.
Let the man rot away as a human vegetable for the rest of his life, trapped alone with himself and his decisions.
That’s what Noah would do. And he wouldn’t lose a minute’s sleep over it.
Because he knew—deep in his gut that had never served him wrong—that Ellis had done more than just physically and emotionally abuse Marilyn. Even though the police reports showed no signs of sexual trauma, Noah knew there was something about her situation Marilyn wasn’t telling him.
He wouldn’t push the issue. It was up to her whether she was ever going to be ready to tell him the full truth. Whether she was ever going to be ready to try a relationship again. He did not delude himself into thinking some kisses—no matter how sexy they were—meant she was ready.
He didn’t know the next step in helping her. And hell, he had some pretty heavy baggage of his own. Maybe he wasn’t the person to even help her take that next step at all.
He needed to talk to someone about this. Normally he would call Tanner, but his brother already had his hands full with his wedding coming up in a couple of weeks. And, as much as Tanner loved Noah, he didn’t understand what had happened in Afghanistan, what it had meant to lose his men and hear their screams.
But Noah did have someone who understood, and it was time to reach out. He had his phone in hand dialing Walker Nelson’s number without another thought. He didn’t even wonder if it was too late. Unless he was in the middle of an active mission, Trigger would take Noah’s call.
“Storm. There’s a name I didn’t expect to see on my phone. To what do I owe the honor?”
“Hey, Trig. I figured I’d do my good deed for the week and give you a call.”
“You’re a real prince.” They shared a laugh. “Okay. What’s really bothering you?”
“Who said anything’s bothering me?”
“I hear it in your voice.”
Noah wondered whether Trigger’s new life with his fiancée Gillian had trained him to be more in tune with other people. Noah had certainly become more aware of what every move, every fleeting expression on Marilyn’s face might signal.
But hell, he had no idea how to start this conversation. Maybe he shouldn’t have called.
“Talk to me, Noah. You in trouble?”
“No, nothing like that. I had some questions. Personal ones. But I know you and I haven’t talked a lot since I got out of the Army, and all of a sudden I’m realizing maybe this call wasn’t such a good idea.”
“You and I survived hell together. You saved my ass more than once on a mission. I think we’re beyond the I don’t know you well enough to ask a question stage, don’t you?”
Noah let out a low chuckle. “I’m about to butt into your love life.”
“As long as you’re not calling to ask me out, we’re fine. I’m already taken.”
Noah just blurted out everything he was struggling with. “I’m getting to know a woman who’s been through hell—and that’s putting it mildly—and I’m at a loss on how to move forward. Or whether to move forward at all. I remembered what you told me that day at New Journeys about meeting Gillian when she was a hostage.”
“Let me guess. This woman you’re interested in is that Marilyn lady. The one who kept everything running smoothly.”
“How did you know?”
“I might only have eyes for my girl, but I’m not blind. I saw the way you looked at her.”
“I guess I was more obvious than I thought.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “But you know what New Journeys is. I’m sure you’ve figured out why she and the kids are there.”
Trigger let out a deep sigh. “I’m sure recovering from that kind of abuse is never easy. Not easy to help someone either, especially since it’s that abuse and recovery that brought you together in the first place.”
“No, definitely not. I’ve been physically training Marilyn for the past few months. Some basic self-defense, but a shit ton more, too. She’s such a tiny little thing. I’m teaching her how to fight dirty.”
“No such thing as a dirty fight.”
Noah smiled. “That’s exactly what I’ve been telling her. That she shouldn’t be giving a second thought as to what may be dirty tactics.”
“Good. If you go into a fight, you fight to win. If you shoot, you
shoot to kill.”
They could both thank their Special Forces training for that mindset.
“Yeah, we’ve had the double-tap conversation, too. But none of this is easy for her. She’s sweet to her very core, even after what she’s gone through.”
Trigger let out a grunt. “I’m sure her ex isn’t going to give her a chance to reason with him if he comes after her.”
“Exactly. Her first job is to save her life. If that means lethal force, then that’s what she has to do… what I’m teaching her to do.”
“Amen, brother. There aren’t many who would disagree.”
Noah leaned back in the swing, looking out at the barn. “She’s eager to learn. She wants to be able to defend herself. She’s much stronger than she gives herself credit for. I don’t have to be on a mission with her to know she’s a warrior.”
“Your Marilyn sounds like my Di.”
“Di? Uh, have you already forgotten your fiancée’s name?”
Trigger chuckled. “Di’s my nickname for Gillian. You know, Diana Prince.”
“Wonder Woman.”
“Exactly. You should’ve seen how Gillian handled herself in a shit poor situation—hostage on that plane in Venezuela. Kept her head, got info to us. She’s been in dangerous situations since and has done the same thing. So, my Di and your Marilyn sound very similar.”
“They’re both survivors.”
“Exactly. Your Marilyn may be small, but that’s no indication of a person’s strength. We both know that.”
Noah nodded even though Trigger couldn’t see him. “That’s the damn truth.”
“So what’s the problem?”
He let out a breath. “I don’t mind training her. Helping with the combat moves. It’s the other emotional stuff I’m worried about. I’m not exactly an expert in managing demons. I mean, look at me, I’ve basically lived like a hermit for the past four years since I got out.”
Trigger was quiet for a long moment before he murmured, “Seems to me you’ve managed to wrestle your demons into submission pretty well, whatever way you had to. You’ve built a solid life. You could’ve done much worse. Many have after going through what you did. You didn’t hit the bottle or painkillers.”
