Reviving Trish

by Becca Jameson

  “We will. Don’t worry, Mom. How are you guys doing? How’s the vacation in Montana?” She could hear the forced lift of his voice as he changed the subject.

  Tushar cleared his throat. “It’s good. Fresh air. Silence. No transposed numbers to worry about.” He glanced at the floor where the shards still rested. “We did break a glass.” His chuckle was as forced as Ryan’s optimistic voice.

  “Sounds like a good story,” Ryan said.

  Trish flushed, shaking her head at her husband. No way did she want him to tell their son he had shoved the table out of the way, knocking the glass to the floor so he could get his lips on hers faster than going around the table.

  He grinned. “Not an interesting story. Just a dropped glass.”

  “Okay, well, I need to get back to work. I don’t see much sleep in my future. We were behind on that study as it was. With this setback, we’ll have to work double time.”

  “Just make sure you’re all alert enough to avoid mistakes, Ryan. Sleep deprivation is the first cause of errors.”

  “We will. Love you guys.”

  “Love you too,” Trish returned before the call ended. She shoved herself away from the table and out of Tushar’s reach.

  “You okay?” he asked, his voice tentative.

  She rubbed her temples and stomped toward the living area where she started pacing away from the broken glass. “No. I don’t like this situation at all.” She shot him a look. “A broken beaker? Seriously? That’s insane. And now this data? Not to mention whatever he didn’t tell us.”

  “Yeah, I caught that too. As for the data, I wouldn’t get too upset. Accidents happen. It’s not an epidemic, just a few odd errors.”

  “Epidemic? Really? That’s the word you choose to describe a study that’s now behind, a study that’s undoubtedly meant to prevent an actual medical epidemic?”

  He winced as he stood and took a few steps toward her. “Probably not the best choice in vocabulary. No.”

  “We have to go back.”

  His shoulders dropped. “We can’t go back. And we are not.”

  “We have to. Ryan needs us. If he had two more sets of eyes on this data, it could get reentered faster and the study would be back on track. I might not be up-to-date on the latest in medical research, but I can enter data. You can too.” This was the first time she’d felt a renewed passion for her career. Maybe there was hope for her yet.

  “We don’t have that option, Trish. We aren’t here voluntarily.”

  She rubbed her forehead, staring at the floor. “Then we need to undo that order. Call Temple. Tell her we’re coming back. There’s work to be done while the two of us vacation at a ranch in another state. It’s crazy.”

  “Vacation?” His voice rose. “You call this a vacation?”

  She shot him a glare.

  His face was red, his hands fisted at his sides. “Trish, a vacation is when two people enjoy each other’s company and relax while staring at the mountains and sipping wine. Except for the thirty seconds right before Ryan called, I wouldn’t qualify this trip to the foothills of the mountains of Montana as a vacation.” He was pissed.

  She set her hands on her hips and glared back at him. “A vacation also requires both parties to agree to the trip and the destination. It doesn’t usually involve being forced to leave home without any input.”

  Tushar leaned closer, his feet planted wide. She was surprised at his restraint. “For God’s sake, Trish, let it go. We were sent here to keep us safe. Alive. It won’t do a bit of good to the team if the damn bunker is breached because some asshole wants to kill us.”

  “That may be, but there have been no new threats since we left, and Ryan needs us.” She was every bit as angry as him, her words coming out clipped.

  “I can’t do this right now. If you want to continue to wallow in your pity party, do it without me.” He spun around and stomped toward the door, grabbing his coat off a hook. Two seconds later he was outside, the heavy wood slamming shut. She could hear his footfalls on the porch and then the stairs. And then he was gone.

  Dammit.

  Chapter 6

  Tushar tugged his phone out of his pocket and called Davin.

  “Hey, Tushar. Everything okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m taking the four-by-four and heading toward the shooting range. Just wanted you to know. Trish is in the cabin.”

  “Got it. Need to blow off steam?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Okay. I’ll meet you over there. I haven’t shot in a few days myself.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Tushar was staring down the barrel of his pistol, lining up his first shot. There were several things that had seemed like riding a bike after waking up from a ten-year hibernation. Shooting was one of them. The muscle memory was there, but the strength was not. The recoil was more forceful than he remembered.

  He had come to Davin’s outdoor range several times in the last few weeks to regain his bearings where weapons were concerned. It could be important one day. Even though he and Trish were no longer in the army, he reasoned they should still find a way to get their bodies back in shape and relearn any previous skills. Trish had obviously not joined him in this venture yet, but he had been hopeful.

  An hour ago, he’d seen the first sane moments from her in a long while. And then poof. One phone call from Ryan and she was right back where she started. Bitter. Angry. Blaming him for the fact that they were currently sequestered in Montana for the foreseeable future.

  He took aim and fired. Hitting the target—the usual black outline of a human man—right in the forehead. At least he could do one thing right.

  His next shot was equally damaging to the imaginary guy. And so he continued. When he finally stepped back from the covered shooting stand after several rounds, he found Davin grinning behind him. “You feel better?”

  Tushar smirked. “Maybe.”

  Davin nodded toward the target. “I’m pretty sure some of your shots actually went through the same hole as previous shots. We’ll never even know how many times that guy died today,” he joked.

  “At least I didn’t miss.”

  Davin chuckled. “Nope. Indeed, you did not.”

  Tushar set his gun down and then leaned against the railing of the protective stand.

  “I assume your aggravation has something to do with your wife?”

  “Yeah.” He decided to tell Davin some of the story. Maybe the man could provide some advice. “She never wanted to come here in the first place, and she hasn’t stopped reminding me for three weeks.”

  Davin cringed. “Damn. That’s rough. And here I thought my cabin hidden at the foothills of the mountains would make any woman swoon just from the views alone.”

  “Apparently not Trish.” Of course, you did ambush her into coming and then kept secrets from her.

  “Anything I can do?”

  Tushar shook his head. “Unless you’re capable of inhabiting my body and manning up with an apology.”

  “Nope. I have enough trouble owning my own mistakes. Can’t take on yours. Sorry.” Davin stepped into the shooting stand next to Tushar and lifted his weapon. After firing five rounds, he stepped back and met Tushar’s gaze. “The only advice I can offer is to say that hanging around watching me take target practice is not going to endear you to your wife.”

  Tushar shoved off the wall and sighed. “You’re right. Thanks.”

  Davin didn’t respond, but Tushar didn’t look back either. He needed to stop hiding from Trish and confront her. He’d had the balls to do so a few hours ago, and before Ryan called, his plan seemed to have been working brilliantly. He could do it again.

  Trish was pacing the small cabin when she heard the four-by-four pull up. She hadn’t expected him to return so soon, and she wasn’t sure it was even a good thing since she was still nursing a serious mad.

  However, they needed to work this out. Talk. Clear the air. Find some way to be civil with each other. She forced her
self to lower her crossed arms so she wouldn’t appear antagonistic as he opened the front door.

  His shoulders were low. He looked defeated. He locked the door and dropped the key to the four-by-four on the counter. When he faced her, they remained silent, assessing each other.

  “I shouldn’t have walked out,” he stated, surprising her.

  She nodded as a chill crawled up her body. “I’d rather you didn’t leave me here alone like that. It unnerves me, especially since according to you I’m in serious danger. You left me with no transportation. I’m not even sure if there’s a weapon in this cabin.”

  It was absurd they hadn’t discussed how she would protect herself.

  “You’re right. Not to make excuses, but someone was watching the cabin the entire time. Someone always is.”

  She swallowed. That was good to know.

  “There’s a Glock tucked between the mattress on both sides. They’re loaded.”

  She gave another sharp nod. Also important to know.

  He came farther into the room and flopped down on the couch, running a hand through his thick hair. “I went to the shooting range.”

  “Feel better?” she asked, remembering how he would do that in the past to blow off steam. It made him an excellent marksman a decade ago.

  He smiled. “Yeah. And also worse. I need you to understand that the reason we’re here is for your safety. I spoke to Temple about this plan at length many times. I took a risk when I put myself out there and told the media the entire project rested on my shoulders. I did that to protect the rest of the team, for all the good it might have done.”

  “I understand, but you did that without consulting me.”

  He nodded. “I did. And it probably wasn’t my best-laid plan. The decision was quickly formulated and used as a stopgap to get the mass of people surrounding the front gate of the bunker to calm down. If they channeled their anger toward one person, perhaps they would stop attacking everyone else who is revived. Including you.”

  “Except I’m your wife.”

  “Right. Minor detail.”

  A thought went through her mind that disturbed her. “Were you hoping you could leave without me and go on with your life?”

  He jerked, his eyes widening. “No. Never. God, Trish. No. From the moment I woke up, the only thing on my mind was getting you back and making sure you were safe.”

  “Ensuring my safety has nothing to do with how you feel about me. I would put my life on the line for every member of our team if it meant they each had a fighting chance to live. We’re doctors. We do that. I know you would too. That doesn’t mean I want to spend the rest of my life with any one of them. It’s just human decency.”

  He stared at her, several heartbeats going by before he spoke. “Don’t do that.”

  “Do what?” If he shut down now and wouldn’t discuss this with her, they were doomed.

  “Don’t act like I don’t have feelings for you. It’s not true. I realize we were spending less time together in the last year before we were preserved, but I never stopped loving you. We were dedicated to saving lives. It was important. Time was of the essence. By your logic I could accuse you of the same thing.”

  He was right. But she’d needed to hear him say those words. I never stopped loving you. She also needed him to stop tiptoeing around her with his secrets and his motives and show more of that passion he’d exuded earlier before Ryan called.

  He sighed. “I made a mistake. I was stressed and worried, and I yanked you out of that bunker too soon. I’m sorry.”

  She pursed her lips, trying not to cry. “Could we maybe go back a few hours to the part where you tipped the table over to get to me? Maybe we won’t answer any phones this time?” She fisted her hands where they were tucked under her breasts, nervous from putting herself out there like that.

  Tushar glanced at the kitchen table. “You want me to knock it over again? It wouldn’t be as dramatic without the broken glass.” His eyes danced.

  She shrugged. “I could throw something if you want.” She inched backward until her back flattened against the wall in the very spot they had started making out earlier.

  He jumped to his feet, stepped on the center of the coffee table, and used it to leap forward, putting himself in front of her in seconds.

  She giggled at the exaggerated drama, relieved he seemed eager to take her up on her suggestion.

  His hands landed on either side of her head, pinning her to the wall as his eyes searched hers.

  Trish slowly released her folded arms and set her palms on his hips. “I think you were in the middle of kissing me, but you were a little closer than this.” Please God, tempt him to come at me with that passion again.

  His grin spread, and he cocked his head to one side as he leaned closer, pressing his body against hers. “You want to narrate the rest or let me drive you crazy my own way?” He lifted one brow.

  She flushed, her lips parting.

  “I thought so.” And then his mouth was on hers, angled to one side, his tongue delving in to taste. His kiss was urgent. Hard. Demanding. Fantastic.

  She melted into him, her fingers gripping his hips and then sliding around to dip into the pockets of his jeans. She squeezed his fine ass and drew him closer.

  One of his hands came down to cup her jaw, holding her chin where he wanted. His other hand smoothed over her shoulder toward her chest.

  She came up on her toes when he molded his fingers to her breast and gave a squeeze.

  “I’ve missed you,” he murmured against her lips without parting from her. He was still kissing her as he grabbed the hem of her sweater and yanked it over her head. He was still kissing her when his hands came to her breasts and cupped them both reverently before popping the clasp of her bra and then thumbing her nipples.

  He finally broke free of her lips but only to dip his head and take one nipple into his mouth, sucking hard enough to send a jolt to her body. Her sex came alive instantly, needing contact. She wanted more. She wanted fast and hard. She didn’t have a vivid memory of the last time they’d had sex, even without the extra decade, but she intended to remember today for the rest of her life.

  He shoved back farther to tug his shirt over his head too, and then he reached for the button of his jeans. “Jeans off. Now.”

  Her hands were shaking as she fumbled with the button and then the zipper. She held his intense gaze the entire time, soaking in this moment.

  Her sex was so wet he could have slid into her without any preparation. But that wasn’t his style. “Panties too, baby. Now.” His command sent a shiver down her body. That and the endearment he hadn’t used a single time since she’d regained consciousness.

  In seconds they were both naked. He scanned up and down her body appreciatively, a smile on his lips, and then he lurched forward and continued to press her against the wall.

  The breath whooshed from her lungs as he inserted his knee between her legs, cupped one breast with his hand, and grabbed her ass with his other hand. He hitched her leg up, leaving her balancing on one foot, but it didn’t matter because he had her.

  His mouth was on her neck now, kissing, frantic, trailing up to her ear. “My God, you’re hot. I’ve missed you so much.” His tongue teased her lobe, making her shudder.

  She gripped his back, digging her fingers into his muscles. She would have spoken if she could, but her mouth hung open, not a single word available for speech. Every cell in her body was alive like she had leaped from a coma to fully in the world in seconds. In a way, she had.

  Tushar slid his knee up higher, forcing her legs wider until his thigh pressed against her sex. “You’re so wet,” he muttered. “You needed this.”

  “Yes.”

  “How long, baby? How long have you been waiting for me?” He pinched her nipple and twisted it as he spoke.

  “Weeks.”

  His teeth sunk into her earlobe, making her moan. The hand on her ass reached between her legs from behind and foun
d her tight channel. He had to lower his thigh to wiggle into the space, and then he thrust his finger into her.

  She cried out, gripping his shoulder blades. “Yes. Oh, God, Tushar. Yes.”

  “Mmm. So needy. All this pent-up frustration.”

  “Yes.” Her voice was breathy now. Could he stop talking and fuck her already?

  His lips were on her neck again as he found her clit and thrummed it rapidly.

  She gasped. “Please.” She’d never wanted anything so badly in her life. She needed him inside her as if her life depended on it. It would be tight. He was just as thick as he’d always been, while she knew her channel was not as wide.

  Suddenly, his hands were on her hips, lifting her. “Legs around my waist, baby.”

  She hugged his hips with her thighs.

  He lined his length up with her sex, met her gaze, held it, and then kept holding it while he thrust into her without pause.

  She gasped. It was tight. The stretch far more than familiar. It took a second for her to catch her breath and find her vision. When she was finally able to meet his gaze again, she found him watching her intently.

  He had threaded one hand in her hair and was holding her head, his thumb stroking her cheek. “You okay?” If she wasn’t mistaken, he was gritting his teeth.

  She leaned forward and set her lips on his. “Move.”

  He wasted not a second regaining control of their kissing while gripping her hips and doing exactly what she craved—fucking her. Hard. Fast. Fantastic.

  She couldn’t think, and she doubted she returned the kiss. It didn’t matter. All her concentration was on how good it felt to have him inside her, his entire body pressing her into the wall, his hands on her seemingly everywhere at once, his lips. Damn his lips. Soft. Demanding. So good.

  And then she was coming, her channel gripping him tight as she milked his length with more force than she would have thought possible. There were sounds in the room. She was fairly certain they were coming from her, but they were unintelligible. Groans.