"So you’re the widow." Lana looked at me speculatively.
"Geez, is that how everyone knows me?”
"Pretty much."
"Thanks.” I shook my head in disbelief. “Does everyone come to you for advice?"
"Not everyone." Her gaze drifted to Gray's team. "But if they do it’s because I’m the most fucked-up person everyone knows."
"You say it with such pride and cheerfulness."
"Years of therapy and resignation. Lay it on me."
Oh why not.
"Gray’s got me all confused."
"In a bad way?"
“Is confusion ever good?” I countered. Lana shrugged, the motion lifting one golden curl and settling it back on her shoulder. The crowd behind us sighed with appreciation. She was just so beautiful you couldn’t help but stare.
"You ever been to therapy?" The jump in conversation topic made me blink but I just went with it.
"After Will died, my parents made me go."
"What’d you learn?"
"That grief is a process; everyone goes at a different pace; it's okay to move on; no feeling is wrong except if you want to kill yourself and in that case I should call the ER." I turned and looked at Lana. "I never felt like killing myself."
"And even that made you feel guilty."
Too surprised to be embarrassed by her insight, I said, "You get this, don't you?"
"Years of therapy myself, honey. Told you I was fucked up." Again her gaze strayed to the field. "Too fucked up for some, I guess. But enough about me. Why not just see where it takes you with Gray. Do you have to have answers?"
"No, I guess not. But he's leaving and I’m—I guess I'm afraid of losing something I value again."
“Because he’s going back to San Diego?" Lana asked.
I nodded.
"So you'll bury yourself for love but you won't move a few states to pursue it?"
“I—ah—” I gaped at her like a beached fish. Snapping my mouth shut, I bit my lip. "I don't know."
"I guess that's the question you'll have to answer when the time comes. The answer you have to provide for yourself now is whether you're willing to open yourself up to the possibility of loving again. You, of all people, know how short actual life can be. What do you want to fit in before life is over?"
Lana patted my hand and left me stunned on the metal bleacher. That's what Will had tried to do—cram in as much living as possible. It wasn't that he didn't love me, but that he wasn't letting his fears hold him back from trying everything. If there was anything I should do to honor his memory it would be to start actually living.
I didn’t share my discussion with Lana with Gray. We’d never talked about our future because our time had always been temporary. I just held her words of advice inside me and thought about it. Later that night, after he fell asleep, I let myself envision living in sunny San Diego and it didn’t feel wrong at all.
“Get up, sleepyhead.” A large hand I’d come to recognize as Gray’s—just by the feel—cupped my cheek. Without opening my eyes, I traced that hand up the forearm to the biceps and tugged. I gave a sleepy smile when his weight came down to settle over my body and I burrowed more deeply into the covers, satisfied that all was perfect in the world.
A nose nuzzled my hair, and Gray molded the blankets around my body. After the long hours of sometimes tender, sometimes fierce loving, I ached pleasantly all over. My nipples were a little sore from being sucked and bitten, but the sensation only reminded me of how amazing it’d felt to have been brought to an orgasm by just the sucking alone. Well, the sucking and the pressure of his hard thigh between my legs. The memory of that made me tingle even more. “Don’t want to. Snuggle up to me.”
I felt the curve of his lips against my neck as he smiled. “No, I have a surprise for you.”
“I have a surprise for you too,” I replied. “Under the covers.”
He let out of sound that was half moan, half laugh. “Keep that thought.”
Realizing he wasn’t going to allow me to continue to sleep, I flipped over on my back and peered up at him. He was already dressed in a form-fitting exercise shirt. Over the most impressive part of his body, he wore gym shorts. I pushed out my bottom lower lip in an extended pout. “I have a sad that you’re already dressed.”
“I’ve got plans.” He slapped the side of my butt, but the comforter buffeted the hit. I stretched my arms above my head. The action made my breasts lift and the covers drop, which drew Gray’s attention. I kicked the covers down a little lower, thinking to tempt him into removing his clothes.
This time the noise he made was clearly a moan. Reaching over, he lightly tongued one erect nipple and then the other but instead of reaching for his waistband, he pulled the sheet up over my breasts. “Can’t think very well with those beauties staring at me.”
“We don’t have to do any thinking today.” I patted the bed.
“You don’t.” He grinned. “But you’ll be sore for a little bit and I thought you might enjoy this activity I had planned.
“What could be better than last night?” I said unthinkingly.
Gray’s grin grew even wider. “Best ever, huh?”
“If you aren’t going to do anything, then no, it was terrible.” I pushed off the bed and flounced off to the bathroom.
Snickering, he called after me, “Oh, I’m totally rising to the challenge.”
“WHAT ARE WE GOING TO do?” I asked after we’d climbed into the Rover.
“What do you think?”
"Sky diving?” I still wanted to do that, and I figured Gray was the perfect person to take me up and push me out of a plane.
"That's not really very dangerous," he scoffed.
"It looks dangerous. Will liked it."
"Everything Will liked was dangerous?"
"It seemed that way."
"Like you?"
I rolled my eyes. "Yes, I'm very dangerous."
Gray reached over and tucked a piece of hair behind my neck. "The fact that you don't know makes you all the more lethal.”
Embarrassed, I looked out the windshield. "I once got sick on a Ferris wheel."
Gray leaned against the corner of the car door and seat, settling in. "I can't wait to hear this."
"Our senior year, Will and a bunch of us went to Six Flags for senior skip day. We rode the Ferris wheel at the end of the day and the park looked beautiful at night." I swiped some stray hairs out of my eyes. "Will was anxious to leave for Basic. The closer it got to graduation and his leaving, the more frustrated he was. He and his friend, Trevor, started throwing a ball at each other. Trevor and his girlfriend were in the car in front of us. When our car was resting on the top, Will started crawling out of the car. He said he wanted to stand up on the rail. The operator saw him and started screaming at us. I begged Will to get inside and he did. When we got off the Ferris wheel, I threw up. I think it was from fear.”
A sweatshirt landed on my lap. I hadn’t even realized I was shivering. I could have just turned down the air conditioning but at the next stop light, I slipped it on and was immediately surrounded by the soft cotton and the smell—the spicy, ocean smell I’d come to associate with Gray. He directed me east of town toward the large expanse of land that was a farm back in the day but now held a small but functional airfield. Off in the distance I could see the major city airport. I swung into the small parking lot but made no move to get out of the Rover.
“Um, really?” I’d talked a big game about wanting to do this but now faced with the prospects I was frightened.
"If you don't want to go up, we won't," Gray said.
“But I did want to do something adventurous…” I leaned forward and looked at the small plane with the large side doors. Could I really jump out of it?
"Not all daring things occur up in the air. We could go whitewater rafting. Maybe play paintball. We could take a motorcycle out on the track." Gray shook my arm to get my attention. "You tell me what you want to do."
>
"I want to go up," I said truthfully.
"Okay, but if you feel uneasy at any time, let me know. I don't want to do things that scare you." I glanced at his fingers, which circled my wrist. I loved his hands. There were callouses on the palm and white scar marks on the backs. When I looked at them I felt safe, and when he put them on me, I felt excited. Those were good hands.
"I'll tell you if I'm scared,” I said quietly.
He gave me a sideways smile, the one where only the left corner of his mouth rose. I was beginning to recognize that it meant he was not quite ready to tell me something but if I waited long enough it’d come out. We were getting to know each other in a lot of ways and that was about as scary and exciting as jumping out of a plane. When we were walking from the parking lot to the office, Gray’s hand caught mine and he didn’t let it go even after we’d signed our releases. We sat in the waiting room for the pilot and other jumpers to arrive. The plane could hold eight parachuters and there would be five today. Gray and me, an instructor named Jerry and two experienced jumpers.
Gray’s finger rubbed over the empty spot where my ring used to sit. The skin was still paler than the rest of my finger, but he’d never said a word. Just like he never said anything the first time I took him to my condo other than to ask me where the bedroom was. I pointed up the steps, and he carried me up to the loft and made love to me, tender and sweet.
“Tell me the truth. Is this the scariest thing I’ll ever do?”
He shook his head. "Nah, I wouldn’t bring you if I thought you would hate it. But you’ve mentioned it a few times. The jump is about the descent. The free fall and the wind and the ground rushing up to meet you."
"Sounds terrifying."
"It's not really. Or if it is, the adrenaline is the product of a mind fake. You've got the parachute. If you were free falling without the parachute then I think the main feeling would be terror instead of exhilaration."
"But you like the rush, right? The excitement."
His response was slow, reluctant. "Yeah, but I'm not an adrenaline junkie."
"You like to do things that are dangerous," I pointed out.
"Within limits."
"Like Will.” I sighed. "I must be an adrenaline junkie."
This admission caused Gray to laugh. "Why would you say that?"
"Because I keep falling for guys who are dangerous."
The words hung heavy between us and a part of me wanted to reach out and pull them back inside me. Gray pulled me around so I was facing him. His left hand was on my shoulder and his right hand pushed the hair out of my eyes. When his fingers drifted down to my chin, I raised my chin so he could read all the sincerity and emotion that had been building since the first time I met him. "You're falling for me?”
"Isn't it obvious?" I whispered. I didn't know how to play games or conceal my feelings. Living, even with its hurts, was so much better than hiding away.
"It's only temporary," Gray reminded me, his eyes searching.
"I know." And I didn’t even care, not at that moment.
The descent of his mouth toward me was slow. My lips opened slightly in anticipation and my eyes fluttered closed.
"Samantha," Gray said, his breath tiny puffs of air against my lips. I slid infinitesimally closer to him. "Open your eyes." His voice was insistent.
I opened them. "Why?"
"I want you to know who's kissing you." His lips pressed against mine, firm and warm. He was always so warm. At first, he just pressed his lips against mine and then he began to move them. He softly nibbled against my lips, pulling my lower lip between his. I opened to him and his tongue slid inside my mouth, rubbing against my tongue and inviting me to play. He seemed to be saying that he could sit there and kiss me for hours as if nothing were more exciting than the feel of our lips against each other.
He might have said it was temporary, but we both knew it wasn’t.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Gray
EM>THIS WAS ONLY TEMPORARY,EM I reminded myself, as Samantha so sweetly kissed me back. I'm only here for a short time. But as I felt her tongue stroke the side of my tongue, as she nipped her teeth against my lip, I wanted to just drown in the sensation. Her scent filled my head and the air around us shrank until all I knew was her small body sitting so close to mine. I moved my hand from her shoulder to cup her neck and angled her face for deeper penetration. I licked every inch inside of her mouth until the taste of her was all that I knew on my tongue.
And all that time I stared in to her green eyes and not once did she look like she was anywhere but right here with me. I saw my reflection there. Her heartbeat was made wild by my kisses. The ring on her finger was gone, and her condo was empty of most everything but yarn. It was a place I felt like I could be comfortable in.
And temporary was the farthest thing from my mind.
When we broke apart, our breath mingled together as we rested our foreheads together. Then I moved her to my side, tucked her under my arm. As we sat there waiting for the rest of the group to arrive, I asked her about safe things because I was feeling more on edge sitting next to her than I ever did right before leaping out of a plane or a helicopter. "Can you make me a hat?”
"Sure, that's not really challenging."
"What else do you make? I admit, despite what I told you the other night, I kind of do associate knitting with old ladies."
"Don't knock the old ladies. They've got skills." She elbowed me in the side. “I make sweaters although those are pretty challenging. My favorite thing is to knit baby stuff. It’s quick and adorable.”
When she tucked her hair behind her ear, I couldn't take my eyes off of it. I'd felt lust before. And desire. But this was something different. I felt hyper aware of every little thing she did. I noticed her fingers sometimes had nicks in them, as if she'd been inattentive too many times while slicing limes at the bar. And that her hair was always falling around her face.
The other night when we went out to eat, she told me she wanted Thai food and then took me to her favorite restaurant. With Carrie I’d run through a list of every restaurant in five-mile diameter and after she’d said she didn’t care where we ate, she’d complain about whatever place we’d ended up at. She couldn’t make a decision whereas Sam was pretty self-sufficient. She bought her own groceries, paid her bills, always had gas in her Rover. It was evident she’d lived on her own for a while. All that was incredibly attractive.
I ran my hand over my growing hair. By the end of my leave I should have a mop. And a beard. And my uniforms would still be pressed and perfect. Like I told Bo and Noah, I didn't have a good set of skills outside of the military. Would I even be good enough for someone like Sam? She came from a pretty nice life. Had her own condo, a nice truck, her mom was a lawyer. I wondered if my ability to iron would render me a good husband.
"Do you think ironing is an essential life skill?"
"Um, I have no idea. I don't think I've ironed one thing in my life." She snorted and held her hand over her mouth to cover the smile. "That's such a random question."
"Will never had you iron his Alphas?"
"His class A uniforms? No way. He said I didn't know how to do it. He was very particular and I wasn’t going to protest. Who likes ironing?"
"It can be a very soothing task,” I declared but smiled at her arched eyebrow. "So I guess the answer is no?"
"I think it's one of the very first things you should put on your boyfriend resume. ‘I iron.’ Right after, ‘I am shit hot in the kitchen.’ You make a mean omelet."
"What about shit hot in the bedroom?" I asked quietly. Her smile died away, replaced by a long stare. So long and so heated I felt like she'd run her tongue all over me. Good thing I was already sitting down, because otherwise I would’ve dropped on my ass.
"You don't need to put that on your resume. Everything about you telegraphs that."
Talk about dangerous activities. "What exactly?"
A wisp of humor skipped across h
er face, and I reached out and brushed two fingers there. Maybe to catch the smile. Maybe just to feel her soft lips again.
"You want words?" she said low.
“You know I do.” Her voice was still throaty with the early morning. Or it could have been something more that was making the words thick. I could listen to her all day. She glanced over at the counter attendant, who was busy with her phone. I leaned down so my mouth was close to her ear. "Whisper them to me."
For a moment I thought she'd comply but a noisy crowd entered the small waiting room. It must’ve been the other jumpers. Tension simmered between us.
As we sat through the instructional movie and then the live safety instruction, our legs brushed against each other, taking every chance to touch each other. I took the gear from the instructor and helped strap Sam in it, testing every buckle twice. We were both worked up, although some of it could have been anticipation for the jump. Her color was high, and I knew if I looked in the mirror I'd have that same heated look of lust in my eyes. I might only have a few weeks of leave left, but I wanted to spend a good portion of it with Sam.
Samantha
“I FORGIVE YOU FOR GETTING me up so early,” I yelled at Gray. The plane we were on was specially designed for parachuters, Gray had told me. It rose quickly in the air and landed quickly. Every atom in my body felt enervated. I ran through the instructions. Gray and the other instructor would hold me when I jumped and then let go after my chute opened. We’d be the last ones out. Gray thought that was safer because I’d have less chance of getting tangled up in someone else’s lines.
"Ready?" he mouthed. It was too loud for me to hear him with the door open and the jet sounds mixing with the wind. I gave him two thumbs up. He made me run through the motions of pulling the chute. Gray's worry was endearing and I would’ve kissed him if not for all our paraphernalia. Jerry, the instructor, gave me the five-finger countdown. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. They each grabbed an arm and we flew out of the plane. As instructed, I spread out my arms and legs like a bird. Gray still held on to one hand but Jerry had released me, which wasn’t what had been planned but no matter.
Unraveled (Woodlands) Page 18
