Taking out his guitar, laying it across his lap, Cort shrugged. “How about ‘Only God Knows Why’—Kid Rock?”
“Fitting.” Ford cleared his throat. Closed his eyes as Cort strummed out the first few notes. He’d always loved the sound of the guitar, even though he couldn’t play. And it sounded . . . different when Cort played. Music was one of the reasons they’d become close friends. With all the other shit in their lives, it was their one escape. Neither had the ambition to make it big—no way would either of them get away from their pasts, find the time to dream.
But they could have the song. The melody. The lyrics. No one could ruin that for them. Make it into something violent and cold. He felt the rhythm seep into his bones and sang, letting each word free from his fucking soul.
The nurse hadn’t moved. She just stared at him with an awed expression on her face. Which made him feel pretty damn good. He finished the song. Then laughed as Cort started another, “The Joker” by Steve Miller Band.
Cort grinned and let a note trail off. “Reminds me of that girl. Might play it for her some time. Too bad I can’t sing like you.”
That was some compliment. Cort didn’t give those out lightly. Ford inhaled slowly, thinking of the girl the song reminded him of. His heart beat a little faster, but his blood ran cold as he considered her reaction to him even trying to get close enough to serenade her. Didn’t matter how good he sounded. She’d probably throw something at him.
I’m not the man for her. Which made the song even more appropriate. To Akira, he’d never be anything but a joker. Not a man to take seriously. Not a man worth her time of day.
He’d still never stop wanting her for his own. Might be pointless, but he hadn’t given up just yet. Which made the lust-filled gaze the nurse was giving him much less appealing. Hell, he was becoming a decent candidate for sainthood. Kinda. The last time he’d fooled around had been on the cruise that summer.
With an Ice Girl who’d made Akira’s team.
Another drunken mistake to add to the many. Didn’t earn him any brownie points with the girl he couldn’t forget—no matter how hard he tried—but he was trying to be a better person. That had to count for something.
Does it, really? Ford’s level tone trailed off. He was completely drained. Wasn’t thinking straight. No more fucking singing. He couldn’t think of a single song that could get the “I’m sorry I almost got your friend raped” message across. Or a single thing he could say to make it right.
He’d tried. And he couldn’t even say why he’d tried so hard. Nothing but a moment of . . . something had passed between them. And still, every woman he met, every time he thought he might be able to move on, all he could see was her face. The only thing that kept him from dwelling too much was knowing Cort had found someone.
And by how often Cort brought her up—either on the phone or while visiting here—she was special.
Ford couldn’t think of much that mattered more to him than earning Akira’s forgiveness. Cort’s happiness was way up there.
“You’re seeing her tonight, aren’t you?” Ford made a face at how weak he sounded. He could see his nurse going into . . . well, nurse-mode. She walked over to check his monitors. But surprised him by leaving without another word. He focused on Cort. “Where you bringing her?”
“Dinner and the new G.I. Joe movie.” Cort pulled out his phone, a crooked smile on his lips. “She’s pretty awesome. Told me straight-up I didn’t have to sit through a chick flick.”
Quite a catch, but still . . . G.I. Joe? Ford shook his head. “Seriously? Cort, you’ve got to stop fucking sweet butts. Unless she’s—”
“No. She’s not biker pussy. Fuck, Ford, you get brain damaged during that beating?”
Touchy much? Ford shrugged. “All right, but those are some lame-ass plans. What’s she into? Can’t you bring her to . . . I don’t know, a musical or something? Chicks like those.”
“She’s into figure skating. I might bring her some time, but it’s a bit last minute.” Cort tapped the strings of his guitar. His lips slanted. “Doesn’t matter. We’ll have fun.”
“So she’s easy.”
“Boy, you’re asking for it.” Cort shook his head as he put his guitar away. “We need to find you a nice girl of your own. Maybe then you won’t be so fucking miserable.”
“We’re talking about your girl and what you’re gonna do with her before you fuck her.”
Cort lifted his head, eyes narrowed. “Watch it, Ford.”
“Oh, relax. I’m just messing with you.” Ford cocked his head. “Why don’t you bring her skating?”
“I can’t skate.”
“So what? She can teach you.” Ford snorted. Cort didn’t look uncertain often, but right now Ford might as well have asked him to put a Hemi engine in a Smart Car. Like it technically could be done, but . . . why would you want to? And Ford wasn’t about to ease up on him. “She’ll think it’s cute and sweet that you’re making the effort.”
“Cute, I can’t see. Sweet?” Cort nodded slowly. “Yeah, I’ll be sweet for her.”
“Fucking gag me.”
“I’m sure Dominik could lend me a nice big, red ball to stuff in your mouth.” Cort stood, bringing his guitar case up with him. “We’ll wait until you’re all healed up before I gag you, tie you up, and hand you over to that Domme you like so much.”
“Hey, don’t get all kinky on me now.” Ford’s brow furrowed. “Things went well with Dominik? You were really vague on the phone.”
“Yeah, I was. Don’t worry about it.” Cort put his hand on Ford’s shoulder. “I’m taking care of things. You just get yourself better and get out of here.”
“Will do.” Ford could tell Cort was worried about him. Which was the last thing he wanted. So he latched on to the one subject that he knew would get Cort to get out of there. “You’re meeting your girl in an hour, eh? Better go change and shave. Make yourself look decent.”
“I shaved this morning asshole. And I look fine.” Cort hooked one thumb to his leather belt, glancing down at his dark blue jeans. He was wearing a white T-shirt that was actually white. No grease stains from working on cars.
As well put together as Cort usually got.
But Ford wanted Cort to impress his girl. She’d clearly gotten under his skin. From what Cort had told him, this was their first date. Wouldn’t hurt to make an actual effort with his clothes. And his five o’clock shadow was comparable to some guys not shaving for days.
Not like Cort would take his advice if he was direct about it. So Ford shrugged. “You’re right. She probably likes you enough to ignore the scruff and all. Forget I said anything.”
Cort frowned. Then shook his head and laughed. “Got it. I’ll go change and whatever.” He went to the door, gesturing someone inside. Cam came in, nothing in his expression to betray his temporarily almost losing his freakin’ mind. He nodded to Cort, then went to stand by the window in full bodyguard mode.
Nice guy, but way too serious. Time for a nap. Ford plumped up his pillow and dropped onto it, suddenly beat. He gave Cort a sleepy smile. “Have fun, man.”
“I will.” Cort looked at Cam. “Take care of him.”
Their voices faded away as Ford drifted off. A brief thought of talking to Kingsley seeped into his half-conscious brain, but he let it slide.
Cort’s back. He let out a sigh of relief. Things are gonna be good.
* * * *
The doorbell rang and Akira jumped. Sahara groaned, jerking the eyeliner away from Akira and shaking her head. Akira bit her bottom lip as she glanced at Jami’s vanity mirror and saw the ragged line going up to her eyebrow.
I shouldn’t have let her talk me into wearing so much makeup. Akira gave Jami a helpless look as she pushed off the bed behind them.
“I’ll stall him.” Jami winked. “Stop stressing, girl! Men are used to waiting for their girlfriends to pretty up.”
“Cort’s not like most men.” Akira held still as Sahara carefully cl
eaned the line using a Q-tip moistened with makeup remover.
“You forget, I know Cort.” Jami patted her shoulder before heading toward the hall. “He doesn’t do picking up girls at their front door for a normal date. He usually just goes home with the ones he meets at a club.”
“Jami, that’s not helping.” Sahara pursed her lips, the Q-tip pinched between her fingers. “Just get the door.”
“What I meant is he’s doing it for her. Which makes her special.” Jami paused, her hand on the doorframe. She caught Akira’s eye. “Don’t forget that. You don’t need to . . . do anything to keep him. You deserve a man who will treat you right. And I’m still not sure he’s—”
Akira rolled her eyes, waving Sahara back as she met her best friend’s steady gaze. “Jami, I like him. And I want to see where this will go. He’ll treat me right; I can feel it.”
“Sure . . .” Jami’s brow furrowed as she shrugged her shoulders back. “But you’re still ‘Ace’?”
“Yes.” Akira’s gaze shifted. She knew lying about her name didn’t really prove how comfortable she felt with Cort, but she’d have to tell him the truth soon enough. And she wanted to be Ace just a little longer. The girl who hadn’t panicked when he’d touched her. The girl who’d wanted him to.
Sahara arched a brow. “Ace?”
“I’ll explain later.” Akira glanced back over at Jami. “Please, just trust me.”
Jami nodded. “All right. But I think you’re making a big mistake.”
“It’s my mistake to make.”
“Ugh, now I know how my dad felt when I told him about Sebastian.” Jami giggled and toyed with a short strand of hair by her ear. “I’m the last person who should be giving advice. I hope it works out. And you know I’ll cover for you.”
“Thank you.” Akira exhaled as Jami disappeared into the hall. She let Sahara finish with her eyeliner, listening to the conversation as Jami let Cort in and offered him a beer.
“No, thanks.” Cort’s smile was clear in his tone. “I didn’t know you were Ace’s roommate. How’ve you been doing, kid?”
“Good,” Jami said, her tone light. “You?”
“Can’t complain. But . . . have you heard about Ford? I’ve been dealing with a lot, but I should have called you.”
Ford? Akira frowned, holding up a hand for Sahara to stop, leaning forward to hear Jami and Cort better.
“I haven’t heard from Ford in a while.” Jami’s tone tightened with concern. “What’s going on?”
“He’s in the hospital. I can’t give you details, but he’ll be okay. I just came from there.”
“Is that him talking, or you? I know how Ford is about admitting he’s hurt. Remember when he broke his hand—with his phone in it—after talking to his dad?”
The whole past thing annoyed Akira for some strange reason. Not that she should care about Ford’s past. Or present. It was probably just bugging her that Jami and Cort were being so friendly.
She said she’d stall him. I didn’t know that meant flirting.
Flirting? Ugh, what was wrong with her? Jami wasn’t flirting. She was asking about Ford. Who she still cared about despite everything.
Well, I don’t.
Still, she held her breath as Cort laughed. “Yeah, I gave him shit for that. This is worse than a broken hand, but he’s in one piece. Why don’t you go see him tomorrow?”
Sahara tapped Akira’s cheek. “Relax your lips, sweetie. I’m just gonna put on a light lip stain.”
Akira made her lips soften, but she tensed as she waited for Jami’s reply.
“I’m going to see him now. The idiot should have called me.” Jami huffed. “Ak—Ace is almost ready. Just wait for her here. Is he at the General?”
“Yeah, but—”
“Wait here. I’m going to—”
“Jami. No.” Cort’s tone took on a hard edge that had both Sahara and Akira lifting their heads, eyes wide. They’d both heard that tone before. At the club. From Doms.
Oh my. Akira felt heat seep down from her belly, spreading fast. One of the things she had to tell Cort didn’t seem like such a big issue anymore. Maybe he could give her exactly what she needed. She exchanged a look with Sahara, whose cheeks were red. Sahara swallowed hard, pressing her hand to her lips.
Jami let out a nervous laugh. “You can’t tell me what to do, Cort. Ford is my friend.”
“I know that. But I’m more than his friend. It’s my job to look out for him, and he needs his rest.” Cort’s voice returned to the laidback one he usually used. “You’ll go tomorrow and he’ll be happy to see you.” He cleared his throat. “You ready, Tiny?”
“It’s Ace!” Akira giggled, then hugged Sahara and bounded out into the hall. Her breath caught as she watched Cort rise from the sofa. He was in all black, from his jeans to his crisp cotton shirt. His hair was still damp, unruly, but utterly charming. His jaw was smooth, and, as she moved closer to him, she caught the scent of his spicy cologne. He held out his hand and drew her into his arms.
Then he tipped her chin up with his big fist, bending down a bit so he wasn’t looming over her. “You’re a horrible liar. We have a few things to tell one another tonight. I like calling you ‘Tiny,’ and you don’t mind it as much as you pretend to. It’s either that or your real name. Ready to share?”
“Not yet,” Akira whispered, knowing she’d just confirmed everything he said, but she couldn’t find it in her to keep up her deceit while trapped in his level gaze. Besides, he was right. The way he called her ‘Tiny’ did something to her pulse. She could be his Tiny without losing the freedom she’d found from her damaged past. But there was something she needed to know now. And she didn’t care who was around as she asked. “Are you a Dom?”
“Honestly, I have no idea. I’m not surprised that you’re interested in . . . the lifestyle?” He gave her a half-smile when she nodded. “Does it make a difference? Are you like our girl, Jami? Is it something you need?”
Akira bit her inner lip, wrinkling her nose at Jami’s expectant look. “Can we talk about this later? Alone?”
“Absolutely.” He put his hand on the small of her back, leading her toward the door. He ran his hand down her side as she slipped her feet into her boots. His lips brushed her ear. “You look really pretty. I’m glad you dressed comfortably. I have a surprise for you.”
Her dark blue skinny jeans and simple, white V-neck top with a thick brown belt low on her hips had seemed rather plain for a date, but she’d thought Cort would like it. Knowing he approved made her feel all glowy from the inside out. She didn’t have to put on a show for him. She could be herself.
She should be herself. She met his eyes as he took her jacket from her and held it open for her to slip her arms in. “I should tell you—”
“You will.” He grinned, then leaned close to kiss her nose. “But I think you had your reasons for what you’ve told me so far. Have they changed?”
“Umm . . . maybe?” She placed her hand on his chest, loving how strong, how solid he was. From more than all that muscle. It was just him.
“Take your time, sweetie.” He zipped up her jacket, then placed her hand in the crook of his elbow. “There’s no rush. Tonight, we’re gonna get to know one another better. Let your friends know I may keep you out all night. But they don’t have to worry. I’ll take real good care of you.”
Akira blushed, then forced herself to look at Sahara, who smiled at her and made a “go ahead” motion with her hand.
Jami folded her arms over her chest. “I’ll wait up.”
“Don’t, Jami.” Akira hugged Cort’s arm. “I’ll be just fine.”
* * * *
Cort laughed out loud as his Tiny finished her story, then he reached across the table to take the cherry off her piece of Black Forest cake and hold it to her lips. She gave him a naughty smile as she slid her lips over his fingers.
“I guess your girls know better than to drink the night before practice after that?”
“I hope so. Sahara was pissed, but she admitted after that she would have done the same.” She licked some chocolate icing off her lips. “I felt bad that she got sick after all those sprints across the ice, but she knows we all have to stay in good shape. The team needs us. It’s hard to believe that Mr. Keane credits us for a twenty percent increase in seat sales, but it’s true. People who weren’t fans of the game come to see us. And now they follow the team.”
“You should be proud of yourself.” Cort put his hand over hers on the table. He’d gotten her to open up a lot over the last hour while they ate at a local pub. She wasn’t just a hockey fan. She was a big part of the Cobra franchise, and he couldn’t help getting caught up in her passion. He’d never be a big Cobra fan, but he wanted the team to succeed. For Ford. And now for her.
He tried to keep Ford out of his head, needing to focus on the time he had with his Tiny in blissful ignorance, but Cort wasn’t a stupid man. It didn’t take much to put two and two together and figure out exactly who this girl was. There was a sense of loss that he felt deep in his bones, an immediate feeling of knowing what he should do. Should . . . but wasn’t sure he could.
No need to face it, though. Not just yet. That would come soon enough.
“I am proud of myself. And of my girls.” She turned her hand to hold his. “Enough about me. I really need to be honest with you.”
“All right.” So much for not facing it yet. Might as well get the truth out of the way. He forced a smile. “Shoot.”
“I know who you are.” She dropped her gaze to the table. “Your father’s a biker. He’s in jail. And you have a reputation.”
His muscles tensed as he fought not to pull away from her. Maybe who she was wouldn’t be the issue after all. “I’ve been in jail.”
“I know.” Her brow furrowed. She gave him a hard look. “But I don’t think you did it.”
He shook his head, the laugh he let out tight and rough. “Babe, don’t do that. Don’t try to make me out to be some kind of innocent man wrongly accused. I’m not. I’ve gotten away with stuff that would get me behind bars for a lot longer.”
Delayed Penalty (The Dartmouth Cobras #5) Page 8
