Believing Again: Book 5 in the Second Chances series (Crimson Romance)

by Peggy Bird

  When they had come back to normal rates of breathing, he eased himself out of her and went to the bathroom to take care of the condom. He took a few extra seconds to compose himself before returning to the bedroom, knowing that, no matter how good the sex had been — and he sure as hell hoped she thought it had been as spectacular as he did — she would be asking him a question he didn’t really want to answer but knew he had to.

  From across the room he could see she was watching him with a curious expression. “Something wrong, baby?” he asked, crawling into bed next to her and pulling her so her back was against his chest and they were spooned together. He would rather not see her face when he answered the question she was about to ask.

  She took his hand and nipped at his knuckles. “The T-shirt. How come you didn’t want me to take it off?”

  “Are you saying it have been better for you if I’d taken it off?”

  “Hell, no.” She squirmed out of his embrace and faced him. “If you can’t read the signals well enough to know it was amazing for me, you’re not very observant. It’s not that. It feels like there’s something you’re not telling me and I don’t like being the only one in the room not in on the secret.”

  He flopped onto his back and put one arm up over his eyes. She laughed.

  That wasn’t exactly the reaction he’d expected. “Something’s funny?” he asked, not bothering to hide the hurt he felt.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t laugh. But I think it’s funny you still believe if you can’t see me, then I can’t see you.”

  “Is that what I’m doing? I didn’t know.” He lowered his arm but kept staring at the ceiling, not looking at her.

  “Either that or you’re trying to distract me from my question. If that’s what you’re doing, I think it’s only fair to tell you I’ve been worked on, worked over, and talked at by some of the best trying to distract me. I don’t distract.”

  “Goddamn cop training,” he muttered. “All right, I’ll answer the damn question.” He turned toward her, took a deep breath, and said, “I kept the shirt on because a roadside IED tore the living daylights out of one side of me when I was in Iraq. The results aren’t pretty.”

  “And that’s it? That’s all?”

  “The few women I’ve been with over the past four years all seemed to agree that I didn’t match their idea of what a lover should look like. Starting with the woman I came home to who, I thought, I was going to ask to marry me.”

  “Oh, hell. Are you serious?”

  “As a heart attack. My almost-fiancée had my injuries to deal with plus my PTSD — nightmares, temper on a razor’s edge, flashbacks. She couldn’t handle it. Not that I blame her. I couldn’t handle it, either. It was bad. We ended it about three months after I came home.”

  Danny nestled closer to him and put her arm across his chest, running her hand up and down as if examining him. “You said ‘women’ plural.”

  “Yeah, a couple other women. They didn’t say it, of course. But after the first time we went to bed, they found reasons not to see me again.” He kissed the top of her head. “So it had to be what my body looked like. Unless it’s that I’m not good in bed … ”

  Danny snorted. “I think we can eliminate that reason from our consideration.” She raised her head and stared at him. “So what was it about me that led you to believe I’d do the same thing? I’m not sure I like being included in that group.”

  “Nothing. I swear. You didn’t do anything to make me think that. But I couldn’t take a chance. I wanted — want — you so bad I couldn’t risk it.”

  Her hand now at the hem of his T-shirt, she said, “Let me take this off.”

  “Danny, I … ”

  “No arguments, Jake. It’s coming off.”

  He sat up, stripped the T-shirt off, and dropped it on the floor. He kept his eyes closed when it was gone, afraid to see the expression on her face. He didn’t realize what she was doing until he felt her pushing gently on his shoulders. When he was flat on his back, she straddled him and, working from his waist up, she touched his chest, his left shoulder, and the inside of his left arm, running her fingers over each scar.

  When he heard her whisper, “My god, look what they did to your beautiful body. You must have been in hell,” he opened his eyes. What he saw wasn’t disgust or pity. Her eyes were wide with, well, he wasn’t sure. Maybe sympathy. Maybe affection. Certainly something he wasn’t unhappy to see.

  He watched as she kissed and caressed every wounded spot, beginning with the surgical scars and moving on to the half dozen other places where they’d dug shrapnel out of him. She didn’t miss anything, dipping her tongue into the hollows where he’d lost muscle and parts of a couple ribs, softly stroking her fingers over the puckers in his skin where it had healed oddly.

  If he’d had any tears left in him to cry over what happened, he would have shed them then as she made her pilgrimage from one spot to another, gently blessing each scar with her mouth.

  But she wasn’t finished. Before he knew what she was up to, she’d slid off him, and, continuing her ministrations to him, headed down his body, this time with kisses growing more sensual than healing with every inch. Reaching his navel, she swirled her tongue around it, before raising her head to look at him, as if asking his permission to continue.

  “Oh, baby, yes, that feels so good.” He could barely get the words out, she made him so breathless with her attention. The salacious smile she gave him made his cock twitch which she apparently noticed because she took it in her hand and began to fondle and rub it in a slow rhythm, a maddeningly slow rhythm. He could feel himself growing larger and harder with her touch and knew from the smug smile, which had overtaken the sexy look, that she could feel it, too.

  Just when he was about to turn the tables and flip her on her back, she put him in her mouth. Her teeth sheathed, her tongue licking, her mouth sucking, he knew it would only take a few minutes to send him over the top if he didn’t stop her soon.

  “Danny, I don’t want to come in your mouth. Please.”

  Giving one final suck on his cock, she slid back up his body. “Where do you want to come, Jake?”

  “You know.”

  “Yeah, but I want to hear you say it.”

  “Inside you. I want to be inside you.”

  “I think we can arrange that,” she whispered and reached over to the bedside table, where she picked up not one but three condoms. “Hmm, prepared for every contingency I see. I like that in a man.”

  He grabbed a condom from her, ripped open the packet, and rolled it on. Then he turned her onto her back, saying, “That’s enough talking.”

  • • •

  Still tangled in his arms and with her legs around him, she closed her eyes, avoiding looking at him, trying to settle her breathing — and her feelings — after the second round of sex. It had been amazing, like the first time, not just physically but emotionally. He’d taken her to the moon and back with his hands, his mouth, and his body and taken her breath away by making himself so vulnerable, exposing himself to her reaction as he had.

  The story about his injuries could make a rock weep. And the wariness on his face when she’d taken off his T-shirt, afraid he’d be hurt again, had about broken her heart. How in hell could any woman have been so cold as to turn away from him after what he’d gone through?

  He didn’t want her pity; she knew that. But he’d been cautious about asking for her acceptance. When she’d forced his T-shirt off, she’d seen a strength she’d seldom known in anyone, man or woman. Hell, she wouldn’t expose herself like that to many people, but his willingness to lower his defenses appealed in a way she hadn’t known mattered to her.

  She’d figured he would be fun to be with. Was even pretty sure, based on that first kiss, that he would be sexy as hell in bed. But there was more to her reaction than that and it alarmed her. She couldn’t let this be anything more than a fun way to spend what little free time she had. She wasn’t in the marke
t for a serious relationship — she sucked at relationships — and she didn’t know if he was interested either, not after what he’d described to her about his recent experiences. Besides, they both had ball-busting jobs that took up all their lives and then some. When would there ever be time for anything else? More accurately, was she willing to find the time? After working as hard as she had to get where she was, was she willing to slow down enough to let someone like Jake in?

  On the other hand, she didn’t think keeping it light and casual after tonight would be easy. They’d gone speeding from a kiss in the kitchen to this uncharted emotional territory where she didn’t know anything about the terrain or the rules and wasn’t even sure she wanted to know either.

  She felt the bed shift with his weight as he moved. “Hey,” he said softly. “You okay?”

  Opening her eyes, she saw him propped on one elbow, peering down at her, a worried look on his face. It was now or never. She had to set the tone for the rest of the evening, maybe for the rest of whatever would be between them. “No, I’m not, Jake.”

  She swore his breathing stopped for a moment. “What’s the matter? Was something … ?”

  Shaking her head she hastily said, “There was a promise made about dinner. I’m starved and all we’ve done since I got here is hang around your bedroom. I didn’t even get the chance to finish my martini.”

  An amused look replaced the worried one. “Hang around my bedroom? That’s what you call what we’ve been doing? Interesting choice of words.”

  “Well, I didn’t want to get into too much detail since apparently I talk too much.”

  “Ah, this is payback. Gottcha.” He untangled his legs from hers. Tracing a line from her forehead to her chin before briefly kissing her, he said, “If madam would like to join me in the kitchen, she can drink her martini while I finish up dinner, which will be served in about thirty minutes.”

  He sat up. She moved close to him, her fingers drawn to his back where she found even more scars, reluctant now to leave his bed even though she knew she had better do it while she could. “Okay, I’ll get dressed … ”

  “Aren’t you going to stay the night with me?” he asked.

  “Oh, I hadn’t thought … Are you asking me to stay?”

  He glanced back over his shoulder and grinned. “Yeah, I am. I want to see if you’re still so chatty in the morning. Call it a scientific experiment.”

  “How can I say no to science?”

  “Good. Then don’t get dressed.”

  “Dinner in the nude? You’re joking.”

  “Yes, I’m joking. My mother would find out and there’d be hell to pay. We weren’t even allowed to come to the dinner table bare chested, let alone bare naked.” He disappeared into a large walk-in closet as he spoke.

  Raising her voice so she was sure he could hear, she asked, “A — how would your mother find out? B — if I shouldn’t get dressed but we’re not eating in the nude … ?”

  He was wearing one terrycloth robe when he reappeared and holding another. “In answer to A, God knows how but she would find out. She has her ways. I’ve learned not to question them. As for B, here, wear this. I have multiples.”

  “For emergencies like this?” She took the robe, realizing when she wrapped it around herself that it was too big.

  “No, as you can tell, it’s my size, not yours. I have a weird aunt who gives my brother and me each a robe every year. Has ever since we were teenagers. We’ve tried to get her to stop but it hasn’t worked. Apparently she believes that males are very hard on robes and need to have them replaced annually. We usually donate them to a shelter but I haven’t cleaned out my closet in a while so I have a buildup in there.” He gestured to the now closed closet.

  Half an hour later, she’d finished her martini and he served dinner. She’d never eaten such an elegant meal dressed only in a robe. It was almost as good as the sex had been — the dinner, that is, not the robe. The coq au vin was delicious, as was the crusty French bread, the salad, and the perfect red wine. After they ate, Jake suggested they wait for dessert. Danny volunteered to help clean up the dishes. Then, when the kitchen was spotless, he admitted that she was the only dessert he wanted.

  She was happy to volunteer for that, too.

  Chapter Eight

  Monday morning Danny was humming her favorite Blind Pilot song as she got off the elevator, and accidentally plowed right into her boss, Lt. Chris Angel.

  He squinted his eyes at her and reared his head back. “Did I mistake the day? It’s Monday, isn’t it? How come you’re so damn cheerful? Must have been some weekend.”

  “It was okay.” Sure her expression would betray how okay it had been and invite curiosity, she moved the conversation to his five daughters, a subject she knew would divert him. “How about you? You have college kids home for the weekend?”

  “No, we took the two high schoolers to Eugene to visit their sisters. I swear, with the amount of money we shovel into the University of Oregon for those three, you’d think the university would have champagne and caviar waiting for us when we visited.” His smile was rueful as he shook his head. “But it is Monday, no matter how cheerful you are. And as soon as you get yourself organized I want you and Sam in my office to bring me up to speed on the transient camp murders.”

  “Murders? Plural?”

  “Yeah, the guy on life-support died yesterday. Guess you were too busy having a good time to hear.” He clearly had his own ideas about what she’d done over the weekend. And, judging from his comment, they were uncomfortably close to reality.

  Sam was at his desk already. “L.T. wants to see us in a half hour, Sam. The second vet from the camp died.”

  “Yeah, I know.” He looked her up and down. “You look remarkably happy this morning. Apparently he finally asked you out.”

  Sam, she knew, would not be as easily diverted as their boss had been but she had to try. “Who’s he?”

  “The doc. He finally made his move. It’s about damn time. He’s been sniffing around you for weeks.”

  “Sniffing around me? Jesus, Sam, you make me sound like a bitch in heat.”

  He had the grace to look abashed. “You know I didn’t mean that. He’s just awfully slow. I’d have asked you out weeks ago.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake, don’t even go there. That’s too weird for words.”

  He was doing a poor job of looking offended. “What’s wrong with me? There’ve been plenty of women who’ve thought I was a hot guy.”

  “Yeah, your wife — my friend — included. And none of them your partner.”

  “Since all my partners until you have been men, it’s goddamn unlikely any of them thought I was a hot guy.” However, he was not about to be deterred. “You haven’t answered my original question although your need to move this conversation in another direction leads me to an affirmative answer. What did you do?” He was smirking as he asked the question.

  Danny played it straight. “We had dinner.”

  The smirk changed to curiosity. “Oh? Where? Was it good? I’m looking for someplace to take Amanda for our anniversary.”

  She hesitated for a few moments. “He made coq au vin for me at his house.”

  “Christ, I don’t need to ask what you did for dessert. I assume you were putty in his hands after that.”

  If she’d been prone to blushing, remembering what they’d done for dessert would have turned her flaming red. “When have you ever known me to be putty in anyone’s hands, Sam?”

  “You have a point.” He waited for her to continue but when she didn’t, he collected some notes from his desk. “If you’re not going to give me any details, we might as well work. Let’s go see what we can thrash out about this asshole who’s shooting up the city’s homeless. That way the doc can concentrate on the next meal he’s cooking for you, not on worrying about his patients.” And he headed for their boss’s office.

  Forty-five minutes later they’d hashed it all out and had decided a
more extensive visit to the Veterans’ Medical Services Clinic was in order. It wasn’t merely the availability of cardboard sign material there that led them to that conclusion, although Jake’s clinic was the most likely source. Sam had visited Outside In, the other place where East State Medical Supplies, Inc. had donated supplies, had seen their indoor recycling bins, asked who had access to the cardboard and concluded it was a less likely source because of their process of handling recycling. Not to mention that Outside In treated street teens, not homeless vets.

  The determining factor, however, wasn’t the cardboard. It was that all three shooting victims got care from Jake Abrams at VMSC. It was hard to know the significance of that fact. Had Jake somehow put his patients in danger? Or was someone trying to get at him through them? Did he know something he wasn’t telling them or, more likely, did he have information he didn’t know he possessed? If he did, how could they figure out what it was?

  Sam and Danny headed for Old Town, the part of the city where many of the social services for the homeless were housed, and where VMSC was located. They planned to interview as many of the staff and volunteers as they could to see what additional information — if any — they could gather.

  Sam had cruised by the clinic when he was checking out their recycling bins. Danny hadn’t ever been there. She wasn’t sure if she wanted Jake to be there or not. She was curious to see him working but she wasn’t sure how they’d react to each other after a weekend that was pretty much spent in bed exploring each other’s bodies. Merely thinking about their hot weekend together was enough to make her pulse pound.

  But it could be awkward. She’d never been involved with someone she met through an investigation. Not that anyone suspected Jake Abrams of being the killer. They’d already established where he’d been at the time of all the shootings and it was nowhere near the homeless camps.