Smoke and Mirrors: (Fire and Fury Book Two)

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Smoke and Mirrors: (Fire and Fury Book Two) Page 22

by Avery Kingston


  “You slept all day?” His eyes darted to the nightstand. Her migraine medicine was lying next to her water bottle. His brow went into a deep crease. Did she have another headache?

  “I guess so. That’s gonna bite me in the ass tonight.” She curled her lip and grabbed the rubber band on her wrist and tied back her hair in a messy knot that somehow looked incredibly cute even in its disheveled state.

  He wanted to ask about her head, but that would be a very bad call at this sensitive juncture. “Listen, baby, taking you there today…that was a stupid move on my part. I’m sorry I was such a bear.”

  “But you’re my bear.” A thin smile passed over her lips. “I’ve had a lot of time to think today. Now that I’m not so pissed, I do realize that your heart was in the right place.”

  “I made you feel small. I made you feel out of control. That was never my intent. You’re so fierce, baby.” He wrapped his arms around her.

  She chuckled into his massive chest. “To a fault. I’m sorry I bit you. I acted like a brat and was very unladylike.” She pulled from his embrace and ran her fingers over the gauze on his arm. “You ok?”

  “I’ve had worse.” He laughed.

  “We good?”

  She didn’t even have to ask. Yeah, a lot of junk was coming out and Scott suspected this wouldn’t be the worst. They just had to hold tight to each other and they’d make it.

  “Always.” He stroked her cheek and kissed her on the forehead.

  She pulled back and scowled. “Did you smoke today?”

  Shit. He cleared his throat. Just then the door flung open and Blaze barged in—saving him from her backlash.

  “I was told to fetch you two youngins for dinner,” Blaze feigned the worst southern accent he’d ever heard.

  “You know, you could’ve knocked.” Tori placed her hands on her hips. “We could be doing it in here for all you know.”

  “Surrrre like that’s gonna happen right under Mamma Harris’ nose. I’m certain that she puts a glass up to the door at night to listen to whatever you two are up to in here. I’m surprised she hasn’t tried to put a chastity belt on Blondie.”

  “I heard that!” His mother’s loud voice boomed all the way down the hall from the kitchen.

  Tori closed her eyes and cringed as her face turned as red as the tank top she was wearing.

  Scott flopped on the bed, clutching his stomach laughing at the mortified look on her face.

  “My point exactly.” Blaze’s brow wrinkled as if to say told ya so.

  Dinner had come and gone and everyone had settled into different activities.

  His mom had taken off for her weekly Tuesday night card game with the ladies in the church. Scott knew, of course, that their card game was really just an excuse for the women to get together, drink wine, and gossip.

  “Mom left dessert on the counter? Anyone want some?” Scott asked as he walked into the living room.

  Blaze, Tori, Presley and his father all made varying groans and moans in unison, clutching their stuffed bellies.

  Presley looked up at him and patted her tummy. “I’m so full I may puke.” She’d taken full advantage of the open dinner invitation his mother had offered the other night. Probably preferred hanging out with them over the lonely hotel.

  “Want to watch the game?” His dad nodded to the baseball game blaring from the television.

  “Cards are playing the Giants.” Presley grinned.

  Presley, a die-hard Cards fan, had grown up just outside St. Louis in a small town that he couldn’t quite recall the name of.

  He glanced over at Tori with her feet kicked up on the coffee table. She was fiddling with her phone with her earbud in, looking not the least bit interested in what the announcer had to say.

  “I loathe baseball.” Her words echoed in his head.

  “Nah, I’m good,” Scott said. “I was gonna take Tori out on the land for a walk—if you’re up for it, babe.”

  Tori yanked the earbud out and sat up. “That sounds great.” Relief flooded her face. “Let me get my shoes on.” She stood, grabbed her cane, and went down the hall.

  “Wear your boots!” Scott flopped down on the sofa to wait. Slowly, he got lost in the game. When he finally checked his watch he realized she’d been gone for twenty minutes. He frowned. That was a long time for just putting on boots.

  He stood, stretched, and went down the hall to check on her.

  He knocked. “Tori?”

  “Come in!”

  He opened the door and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her.

  Tori had ditched the yoga pants and put on a short, white, cotton summer dress. It hung off her shoulders, exposing the cross tattoo on her back. As she bent over to put on her boots, her skirt rose exposing her sun-kissed thighs and a hint of her backside. Somehow, this was sexier to him than naked; it was the tease of barely seeing her bottom that made his heart pound.

  “Holy hell,” he whispered, adjusting his erection.

  “You like?” She smirked as she turned around.

  He noticed she was wearing no bra; her perky nipples poking through the fabric. Seriously, she was trying to kill him.

  “Damn, I’m lucky.” Scott glanced down at his tactical pants and boots then took a whiff of his shirt, remembering what she said that morning about needing a man to smell good. He didn’t stink, but was he good enough? As his eyes fucked her from head to toe he decided he needed to step up his game. “Go wait for me. I’ll be right there.”

  “All right.” She patted his chest, weaving past him. He sucked in a deep breath, drinking in her sweet fragrance. Never in his life would he tire of that scent.

  He ran himself through a quick shower, which was kind of a joke. He hated that showering was such a chore with one leg. His parents had installed a shower rail for him, which helped speed up the process, but he still had to dry his stump off, rub a good amount of deodorant on it and get the damn leg back on. Liner, sock, put on prosthetic, roll the sleeve, make the seal, remove air with the vacuum pump. The whole process only took a few minutes, but it was time that Tori was waiting on him.

  He threw on a pair of jeans, his square-toed Ariat boots, and a tight fitting white tee. Lastly, he opened the closet and grabbed his black cowboy hat. From the dust, he could tell it hadn’t been touched in years, just left here when he went off to the Academy trading one life for the next. He shook the dust off the hat and placed it on his head, turning toward the mirror.

  You’re dressing up for a blind girl, he admired his reflection with a chuckle.

  He tugged on the brim. It didn’t matter; she’d know. Damn the thing still looked good, even better now with his tattoos and muscles filling out his t-shirt. He doused himself in a few sprays of cologne, grabbed his Bluetooth speaker, and headed down the hall. He stopped half-way and glanced at the speaker in his hand, backtracked to his parent’s room and went into their closet, grabbing his dad’s guitar instead.

  Scott sauntered into the living room and grabbed a blanket out of the basket next to the sofa, tossing it over his shoulder. “Dad, I’m borrowing your guitar.”

  “Dayum, look at you, cowboy,” Presley said with a Cheshire grin plastered across her face.

  Wayne’s eyes darted to Scott, the guitar, then the blanket, and back up to Scott’s face. A smirk tugged at his dad’s lips as he took a pull from his beer. “Dusted the Stetson for your lady, I see.” His dad winked at him before his dark eyes went right back to the TV.

  “What’s this about a cowboy I hear?” Tori asked as she came into the room.

  “Harris thinks he’s the next Tim McGraw,” Blaze chided. “Got himself all dolled up for you. Cowboy hat, boots, guitar…”

  “Did you now?” A gentle grin rested on her face.

  Scott’s cheeks flushed. He should have just grabbed a blanket from the hall. Coming in the living room was a terrible idea with these clowns here, but damn if that smile of hers didn’t make it all worthwhile.

  “We
ll, with you dressed like that, I realized I needed to step up my game.” He put his arm around her and leaned in to give her a kiss, cocking his head to the side so the brim of his hat didn’t hit her in the face.

  “I guess we better have a picture then, since we’re both looking so very fine,” she said smoothly as she stroked his cheek.

  “Stay just like that,” Presley ordered them as she yanked out her phone and snapped a photo.

  “Are we done now?” Scott turned to Presley.

  Presley eyed the display, then her gaze darted to Scott. “Perfect.” She clicked a few times on her phone and added, “Posted and tagged on Facebook. You’re welcome.”

  “Let’s get out of here.” Scott smirked and hooked his arm with Tori’s. He grabbed a few items from the kitchen and tossed them in a sack, then they went out back and climbed in the Ranger.

  “Scott Harris, if I didn’t know better I’d say you’re trying to get in my panties.” Tori flashed a sly grin as they rolled along the green hills of his family’s land. “Guitar, cowboy hat, boots, cologne and a tight, white shirt.”

  “Now how in the hell do you know it’s a white shirt?” A bemused smile passed across his face.

  “Because Tim McGraw always wears a tight, white shirt.”

  “Since when do you listen to country music?”

  “I listen to everything.” Tori shrugged.

  “I love that I learn more about you every day, you know that?” Scott rubbed her smooth thigh.

  “You say that now…” Tori made a face, something between a snarl and a smirk that he knew had hidden meaning to it.

  “I like it, I love it, I want some more of it…” Scott belted out and a megawatt smile passed across her face.

  They rolled along in silence for a few more moments, then stopped the Ranger under a large tree. “Seriously. There’s nothing you could tell me that would make me stop loving you.”

  “What if I told you I’m a serial killer?” She lifted her chin and crossed her arms.

  “Who better to be a serial killer than a beautiful, blind woman? Nobody would ever suspect you!” She was testing him. He went over to her side of the vehicle and tugged her by the hand. “You’d make a great criminal. You’re an evil genius.”

  Her lip twisted. “Now, where have you taken me?”

  “We’re at the very back of my family’s land, hidden between thickets of trees. This used to be my spot when I was a kid, when I didn’t want anyone to find me.”

  “Please tell me that this isn’t where you brought other girls, because that would seriously kill the mood.” She planted her hands on her hips.

  “You’re the only woman that I’ve ever brought here. Scout’s honor.” He grabbed her hand and made an X shape across his heart. “Cross my heart, hope to die.”

  Tori tugged on his arm, pulling him close. “You better never die on me.” She kissed his hand.

  “Don’t you know I can’t die? I’m invincible—have the shrapnel scars to prove it,” he ran her finger across the scar that crossed his brow line.

  “Exactly my point.” There went that brow of hers again straight up into orbit.

  “I take a lickin’ and keep on tickin’.” He folded her into his arms snugly and kissed the top of her head. “Just like you. We’re meant for each other, you know that?” He let go of her and walked over to the back of the Ranger, grabbed the blanket, and spread it on a soft spot of grass.

  He then took her hand and guided her down on the blanket.

  “That’s slowly sinking in.” She leaned back on her elbows and tilted her head up to the night sky.

  He set the paper sack down next to her and went back for the guitar.

  She dug through it. “What—pray tell me—do you have in your bag of tricks?” She pulled out a candle and lifted it to her nose. “A candle?” Her nose crinkled as she took a whiff. “Smells citrusy.”

  “It’s citronella, for the mosquitoes.” He plopped down next to her and laid the guitar on his opposite side as he lit the candle, placing it on a rock a safe distance from the blanket and any tall grass.

  “Ooh, romantic.” She giggled as she reached down into the bag and pulled out the whiskey. She unscrewed the cap and took a swig. “Here I thought you were trying to create a mood.”

  He took a mental picture of her lying on that blanket, her white dress slipping off her delicate shoulder. She was propped up on one elbow, with her knee cocked up, and the bottle of Jack hanging lazily from her other hand. She was his goddamn fantasy sketched into reality.

  “Well.” She nodded toward him and took another sip from the bottle. “Are you gonna play for me or did you bring the guitar for decoration only?” Her mouth quirked up in the corner. “Because that visual is kinda lost on me.”

  Scott reached over and grabbed the bottle from her, taking a swig of liquid courage. He didn’t know why he was nervous. He’d already played for her the other day, after all. A wave of vulnerability washed over him. Having her here in the twilight, in his secret space, looking so damn beautiful made his heart race.

  He’d always prided himself on being fearless. Loving Tori was the scariest thing he’d ever done. The only thing he feared was harm coming to her. He took another gulp as the whiskey burned his chest.

  “You have stage fright?” She challenged him.

  “How will I ever get you to shut that smart mouth of yours?” Scott put down the bottle, leaned over and crushed his mouth to hers. She parted her lips, inviting him in and he threaded his fingers through those beautiful platinum locks, pulling her in deeper. The sting of the whiskey on their tongues mixed with the sweetness of her lips was an intoxicating contrast. Like everything with her, the kiss was a tug between two worlds; a delicate balance of light and dark, sinner and saint. He would sell his soul for her delicious kisses. Nobody in the world could ever make him ache as much as this woman did.

  Tori’s hips rocked underneath him as her head tilted back, the moonlight highlighting her slender neck. His tongue raked across her skin—god damn she even tasted sweet. He’d brought her out here to romance her, take his time, but Tori had a way of making him lose every ounce of self-control. His cock pressed hard against his jeans, yearning to be inside her. His hands also seemed to have a mind of their own, for they traveled up her smooth legs, right under that pretty, white dress and in between her warm thighs. She parted her legs, inviting him to do as he pleased. His fingertips danced over the seams of her delicate, lacy panties—so tempted to rip them off and enter her. But no, it wasn’t time yet. He pulled back from her kiss.

  “I’m head over heels in love with you, Tori,” Scott breathed as he caressed her cheek.

  “Good, because I’m pretty damn fond of you.” She tugged on the brim of his Stetson and smiled warmly. “Thanks for dressing up for me.” Her eyes watered up with emotion as they wandered, looking for something they’d never find. She placed her hand on his cheek, rubbing her thumb across his lips. He smiled for her and grabbed her palm and kissed it. “It means so very much…” her voice cracked as part of her soul opened to him. She cleared her throat, lifting her chin. “Now about that song?”

  “All right.” He sat up, grabbing the guitar next to him. He strummed each string, putting it perfectly in tune as he racked his brain on what to play for her. As he worked, he admired his girl, drinking straight from the bottle of Jack and he licked his lips, still tasting the sweetness of her skin and it came to him. He strummed the tune to “Tennessee Whiskey”, hoping that he could give it the bluesy soul that the song deserved. He skipped the opening lick, that riff would’ve been nice, but he was still rusty from years of not playing. Thankfully, the song had an easy chord progression, just A and B Minor.

  He started with the opening lyrics acappella, then went into the tune, over exaggerating the down strokes to keep the bluesy rhythm.

  A calm smile of recognition fell over her face and when he hit the chorus she chimed in at the perfect moments, in beautiful harmony.
>
  He grinned, forcing himself not to stop singing to listen to her. This was the first time hearing her true voice. Sure he’d listened to her a handful of times; in the car, in the shower just goofing off, and at the karaoke bar. But this was different. She was raw, uninhibited, and so damn sexy.

  Tori had this low, throaty, singing voice that was warm and seductive. Perfect for a song like this. Their voices molded together as the music filled his soul. In that moment, they were one person, one heart.

  He placed the guitar on the blanket when he was done. “Damn, baby, that voice of yours…” He was lucky that he could finish. She took his breath away.

  “Eh, I’m ok I suppose.” She waved her hand. “I guess that’s my dad in me. I got it from him.”

  “He sang?” Scott was shocked. She never talked about her father. Ever. In the ten years he’d known her, all he learned of her father was that he was dead. “What was his name?”

  Scott didn’t want to kill the mood, but getting her to bare her soul to him was a rare event. They could have sex any time.

  “Christopher.” Tori reached over for the bottle of Jack and took a big swig. “So, where were we?” She gave him a sexy smile, and just like that, she closed herself off. She pushed the bottle toward him. “I think you need to catch up to me. I’m feeling a twinge of a buzz coming on here.”

  Don’t press it. Baby steps.

  He knew full well what it was like to try and pry those painful doors open. He could find out anything with his security clearance, if he wanted to, and God knows he’d been tempted. But his need for Tori to trust him had outweighed that temptation. He grabbed the bottle from her hand and took a swig, placed it down beside the blanket and reached over, cupping her cheek as he kissed her.

  Tori smiled against his lips. For a tough man with rough, calloused hands and a chiseled body, he had unbelievably soft lips. She grabbed his hat off his head and placed it on hers, pushing herself up on top of him as she hiked up her dress.

 

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