1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Nine

by Carrie Ann Ryan

  “Do you want to come in?” Hailey asked a couple of hours later, her belly full and her cheeks aching from laughing all night.

  Dinner with Sloane had been memorable to say the least. He was all big, bearded, broody, and inked. And oh so hers for the evening. He’d laughed with her, touched her when he could—a casual brush of fingers along silk. He would lean in close to tell her a joke and then smile wide when she laughed.

  Sloane didn’t smile enough.

  The fact that he would in her presence warmed her.

  Sloane stood next to her on her porch, his large body towering over her but not scaring her in the least. He was the largest man she knew, and yet she knew, without a doubt, he’d never physically hurt her.

  “I could get warm,” he answered.

  She swallowed hard, unlocked her front door and stepped inside, feeling his warm body behind her. He helped her slide off her coat, his fingers brushing along her ribs. She shuddered out a breath.

  When he pulled her to face him, she tilted her head up and licked her lips.

  “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long while,” Sloane said softly. “Should have done it before.”

  “Then do it now,” she whispered.

  When he lowered his head, pressing his lips to hers, she surrendered to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body to his, aware she was doing something she had not done since the diagnosis

  Willingly allowing another to know the feel of her body.

  It had taken years for her to allow herself to think of her body as beautiful. As brave. And with this kiss, she would take it one step further.

  She would allow another to hopefully think the same.

  His tongue slid along hers, and she moaned, loving his taste, the feel of him…everything.

  When he pulled away, they were both breathless, a fundamental part of their relationship forever changed.

  She met his gaze and knew there was something she had to do before she took the next step. It wouldn’t be fair if she didn’t.

  “I…I’ve wanted to do that for far too long,” she finally said.

  Sloane grinned, though she saw an emotion pass through his eyes she couldn’t quite name. Secrets, she thought again, they both had secrets. So, perhaps it was time she shared hers. She’d hidden them for so long, she almost didn’t know the words.

  When she pulled away, he frowned. But he let her go, his fingers lingering on her hips as she moved.

  “I’m glad we did it, then. How about we do it again?” he asked.

  She licked her lips but held up her hand as he took a step forward. “I need to tell you something first.”

  He tilted his head. “Okay.”

  She let out a little laugh. “You’re always like that. You say okay and you listen. That’s what I’ve always liked about you, Sloane.”

  He shrugged. “No use in being here if I’m not going to listen. You want to sit down?”

  She shook her head. “No, but let’s go into the living room anyway. I don’t want to be so close to the windows.”

  His brows raised, but he took her hand and walked with her into the living room. Her heart beat hard and her blood pounded in her ears once more, but this time, it wasn’t in breathless anticipation.

  “So…you know how we were talking about secrets? Well, I think I should tell you mine…you know…before we do anything else.”

  He shook his head. “You don’t have to tell me anything you’re not ready for. I know we started off tonight, hell today, on an odd note, but if we’re going to do this, let’s do it our way. Remember?”

  “I want to do this.” She closed her eyes. “It’s so much harder to date someone you know,” she mumbled.

  He let out a snort. “The ‘get to know you’ part is out of the way. You know my favorite drink, and I know the faces you make when you’re tired or annoyed. So yeah, we can’t hide things like that from each other. But I know you hold something back from everyone, from me. I don’t fault you for that. We all need our secrets.”

  She nodded. “I know. And I should have told everyone long ago. I didn’t mean to keep it to myself for so long. It’s not that I’m ashamed...” She paused. “I’m not ashamed. But it’s…it’s not an easy subject. And all of us—the Montgomerys and crew—have been through so much. And since my…thing is in the past, it was hard to bring up.”

  Sloane took a step forward but didn’t touch her. “Tell me, Hailey. You know you can tell me anything. What happened?”

  She raised her chin, knowing it was all or nothing. “I had cancer. Breast cancer. In the course of my treatment, I had a bilateral mastectomy. The shape you see now isn’t who I was, but it is who I am now. I’m a survivor, Sloane, but no one knows.”

  Chapter Four

  Sloane quit breathing. Just quit breathing, his mind going in a thousand directions yet not moving at all.

  “Cancer,” he breathed. “Breast cancer.”

  Jesus. He still couldn’t breathe.

  “Yep. The big C. I’m cancer free now, by the way. I didn’t say that before. I’m actually surprised I said as much as I did. I mean, I practiced saying it in the mirror, but as I haven’t told anyone in years, it was hard. Different. You know?”

  She kept rambling, and he took two steps toward her, gripped her upper arms, and crushed his mouth to hers. Emotion poured through him and his body shook. She gasped into his mouth before kissing him back.

  When he pulled away, he rested his forehead on hers and let out a shuddered breath. “I almost lost you before I met you. I don’t know what I’d have done if I’d never had you in my life, Hailey.”

  Her hands went to his stomach, just resting there. He relaxed at her touch, even as his belly leapt at the feel of her hands on him.

  “Sloane.”

  He moved to cup her face and used his thumb to brush away the single tear that had fallen. “Fuck, Hailey. I knew you were hiding something, but I had no idea it was this. You had cancer and didn’t tell anybody.” He thought about what he knew of her past and frowned. “Wait, how old were you? Did you have anyone?”

  She shook her head between his hands, and he let her go but did his best to keep his touch on her.

  “I was twenty when I was diagnosed. It took two weeks from the results to my surgery. Since I was Stage 1B, I had a great chance, but they wanted to work fast before it spread to other parts of my body. The tumor was small, thank God, but it was just at the edge of being large enough where they’d been worried. I opted for them to take off both breasts rather than just the right one.” Her hand went up to her chest and he looked down, his mind still whirling.

  “But you were alone. Weren’t you?”

  She nodded. “You know my dad left when I was a kid, and my mom died when I was eighteen. I wasn’t able to afford college full-time, so I was taking night classes while working at a bakery. I thank that place every day for what they gave me. Not only did they teach me how to do what I love now, but the job gave me benefits so I could afford the treatments.”

  She continued, and he kept silent, not knowing what to say. What was there to say when the woman he loved had almost died and he hadn’t known?

  “I went through chemo and radiation, but both treatments were relatively short because it hadn’t spread. I was lucky. I know that sounds weird to say since it was cancer, but I was lucky.”

  “Hails.”

  She gave him a sad smile. “It took six surgeries for them to reconstruct my chest. I’m not the same. Not even a little bit, but I’m me.”

  He ran a hand down her arm and gripped her hand. She squeezed it. Hard. “You’re beautiful, Hailey. Inside and out. I’ve always known that. But that you have the strength you do, the courage you have after all of that? I am in awe of you.”

  She pressed her lips together and her eyes filled with tears.

  “Shit. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

  She shook her head and smiled. “It’s a good cry. I wasn’t sure what
you would say. You’re a man of few words, after all.”

  She was not the first person to say that. “I speak when it’s important. And you’re important.”

  Far too important for him. Hell, he was dirt, tainted compared to her. And he was so fucking big. He could break her with one careless move. How could he ever think he was good enough for her? At the same time, he knew if he walked away right then, he’d not only regret it forever, but she’d think it was because of her.

  She wrung her hands together and bit her lip.

  “What is it?”

  “I’ve wanted to tell you for a long while. Not because it was a huge weight on me, even though it was, but more so because…” She let out a breath. “I don’t have nipples anymore. I mean, they took them away when they did the first surgery. I will never have the kind of sensation I once had. It’s impossible. But I’ve always wanted to do…something.”

  He froze. Austin and Maya had done a few nipple tattoos at the shop where they made the ink almost realistic. It was hard, but a tattoo that Sloane knew took courage beyond what others thought. All of those at Montgomery Ink had tattooed over and through scars in their line of work. Hell, it was how Austin had met his wife, Sierra.

  But he wasn’t sure he could deal with Maya or Austin doing Hailey’s ink. He knew he had no right to be possessive, but he wanted to be the one to help her…if that was what she wanted.

  “I don’t want nipple tattoos. I just don’t think they’re for me. But I do want something. I’ve been toying with the idea of art across my chest for a while. I’ve just needed the courage to tell my story and then do something about it.”

  He took a deep breath. “I think you have far more courage than you give yourself credit for.”

  She smiled at him, breaking his heart all over again. “I’ve always thought…” She stopped, frowned. “I’ve always thought I should have you do it. I don’t know why. I mean, I know we’ve wanted each other, we’ve said so tonight. But this is different. I always thought you could help me. But I’ve been scared.”

  He leaned forward again and kissed her softly, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. “I would be honored to help you. You can trust me, Hails. I’ll take care of you.”

  She put her hands on his chest and moved forward. “I do trust you. That’s why I told you. Why I want you to do my ink.”

  Sloane kissed her again. “I’ll do anything you need me to do. And when you’re ready for me to start it, I’ll be by your side, making sure it’s exactly what you need. For you to ask me this…” he shook his head. “You blow me away, Hailey. You fucking blow me away.”

  She smiled at him then, and he was lost.

  He loved this woman, loved everything about her, and now he had fallen that much deeper. He just prayed he could keep her.

  The bomb blast hit his Humvee hard, and his brain rattled. Sloane gasped for breath, the fire burning around him all but searing his skin. He reached for his brother, but couldn’t feel him. Couldn’t feel much of anything.

  Just the pain.

  Sloane sat up in bed, sweat pouring from his skin as he tried to swallow. Only he couldn’t breathe, and he had to keep his heart from pounding right out of his chest.

  Fuck.

  He hadn’t had one of those nightmares in years. He knew he’d never rightly forget that day, but he thought he’d move past the night terrors that kept him up, that kept his hands unsteady and his eyes red-rimmed.

  Sloane grunted as he pulled his legs to the side of the bed and rested his head in his hands. He just needed to take a few deep breaths and then he’d be fine. He’d done this countless times before. PTSD didn’t go away with happy thoughts and willpower alone. He knew it might never go away, but at least he wasn’t struggling on a day-to-day basis. He was doing far better than some of his friends from the service. Hell, at least he’d come home whole. Or even come home at all. His body might be covered in scars, but he’d kept his limbs and his sight.

  That had to count for something.

  The thought of loss and coming through made him think of Hailey and he sobered rapidly. He’d only been to war. Only fought and lived, coming out mostly whole.

  She’d lost far more than he had.

  And yet he felt like she was doing so much better than him. She’d fought with grace, or at least he figured she had. She’d even told him about the tattoo she wanted him to give her. When he thought of his situation, all he’d done was live—when so many hadn’t.

  No one else in that truck had lived through that roadside bomb.

  Only him.

  How was it he deserved to be here? How did he deserve to come home and be with a woman who made him feel like everything would be okay?

  He didn’t deserve it.

  But he was just selfish enough to go through with it. Somehow, he’d have to figure out how to live with that.

  After he’d kissed her again the night before, he’d told himself he needed to leave. There had been a lot said that day, and they both needed time to let it all sink in before they took the next step. As they’d both said the night before, they were past some of the initial awkwardness that came with getting to know someone on a date. They were already friends, already close. Now they would be closer. He didn’t know when they would sleep together, but he knew it would happen once she was ready.

  He frowned. She’d said she had no nipple sensation, but did she lose anything else?

  Sloane would have to ask her that outright. There was no way he’d hurt her if he had the chance to make things easier for her in the long run. Maybe he’d do some research on what others dealt with so he knew the right questions to ask. Considering he knew from his own therapy with PTSD that everyone’s treatments and aftermaths were unique, Hailey wouldn’t be textbook. But at least he’d be somewhat prepared when and if they went to bed together.

  They weren’t young, well, he wasn’t anyway, so he wasn’t going to be some nervous kid when it came to sex. He’d make sure she got what she needed and do his best not to screw it up by hurting her in some way. It wasn’t that she was different from other women he’d been with—though she was because she was Hailey—it was just that he was so fucking scared. He wanted to make sure he didn’t mess up.

  Somehow, in the course of a day, he’d gone from standing to the side, being near her but not with her, to dating her. He didn’t know if they had a label, but it was at least a new step in a direction he wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready for.

  Sloane stood up and ran a hand over his head, noting he’d need to shave again soon. He liked the feel of the air on his bald head, so he kept it shaved. He’d done it in basic training and hadn’t stopped since. It didn’t seem to bother Hailey, so he’d keep it.

  Today, he had to go to work and act like nothing happened in front of the others. Sure, they’d heard her storm into his section, but they’d at least pretended not to listen. He didn’t want them to give Hailey or him shit. All the while, he’d want to ask her what was going on and scream that he’d kissed her at the top of his lungs.

  If he weren’t sure of his age, and the fact that he was nearing forty, he would have thought he was some damn teenage boy getting to kiss his first crush.

  Hailey was his first for a lot of things, though, so maybe that made sense.

  His first friend he’d fallen for. The first woman that he knew would be nothing but serious after getting out of the service.

  His first…just his first chance at Hailey.

  By the time he made it to Montgomery Ink, his head ached from too many thoughts and lack of coffee. He hadn’t made any at home, and he wasn’t sure if he should go into Taboo and get some from Hailey. Seriously, it was like he was a teenager again.

  When he had the time, he should just go over there for coffee and see her.

  Things had changed, but they hadn’t. And once he remembered that, everything would be okay. At least he hoped so.

  Sloane stretched his back as he took a seat at his statio
n. He had three appointments that day—two smaller ones that he could get done in less than an hour each—and another one that would take most of the afternoon. That one he knew had to be perfect. Not that any of his work was less than perfect, but the one that afternoon had to be better than the rest.

  While each of the artists at Montgomery Ink did all kinds of work, they each had some specialties they were known for. Sloane had become known for his remembrance pieces. Those who had lost someone in the service came to him. He’d done ink remembering fallen soldiers—men, women, and dogs—as well as those who wanted to remember their branch in general.

  Today he was doing an eagle for someone and wanted to make sure he got the feathers just right. The bird would look as if it were taking off; its wings stretched back, legs bent.

  He hated and loved doing these all at the same time.

  Maybe, just maybe, if he could help others, he’d rid himself of the stain of blood on his hands. Only he knew that wasn’t an option. He’d be tainted until the day he died—and he refused to let that time be short. The men who had fallen by his side deserved far more than what they’d received, and Sloane refused to give up when they hadn’t had a chance.

  He let out a shuddering breath, pushing the memories back. It usually wasn’t this bad, but for some reason, he couldn’t quite get out of this funk.

  Of course, he knew the reason, and she was just a wall away, working and probably smiling. Giving in to temptation had done something to him, broken down the barriers that had held the panic at bay.

  “So…what happened last night?” Maya asked. He lifted his head to see her leaning against the table in his station, her pierced brow raised.

  He leaned back and folded his arms over his chest. Rather than answer, he just stared at her.

  She narrowed her eyes. “You’re not going to answer me, are you?”

  He remained silent.

  She threw up her hands. “Fine. But if you hurt her, I’ll kick your ass. Oh, and if she hurts you, I’ll kick her ass. I’m an equal opportunity ass kicker.”