“I think so.” He flashed another grin at her. “But I wouldn’t mind a little hands-on assistance.”
“Do you ever take anything seriously?” she huffed as she helped him stand, pulling him up against her. Too close, her mind cautioned as his warmth seemed to envelop her.
As he looked down, their gazes collided. A storm rose in his eyes, darkening them. “More than you’ll ever know,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly.
A shiver rolled over her, and she sucked in a deep breath. “Well, um, good. So, uh, I’ll meet you in my room in a few minutes with my supplies. Try to avoid running into Walter.” She stumbled over her words as she stepped back from him, clearing her throat.
She wanted to ask what he meant, but knew his one confession was already the most intimate reveal she’d ever gotten from him. The problem was, an ache in her gut wanted more—so much more.
8
“Don’t move,” Zoe cautioned him, her expression tight with concentration as she peered down at him. “I’d like to avoid disfiguring the town hero, please.”
“Sorry,” he replied. “I’ll do my best not to wince next time you stab a giant ass needle into my face.”
“That would be great, thanks,” she teased. “But keep the dramatics to a minimum—there are no needles in butterfly closures. It’s basically a glorified bandage.”
“Fine, but it still hurts like hell.”
She chuckled, frowned. “Sorry, but the hard part is over. All the glass and dirt is cleaned out of the wound, now I’m going to apply the adhesive strips to close the wound.”
Zoe worked quickly, and he kept his eyes trained on her face. She was concentrating so hard, the tip of her tongue stuck out one side of her mouth and her brows were furrowed. He had the perfect view since his head was in her lap and he was stretched out on his back on her bed. She’d insisted this was the best position for it, and he certainly didn’t disagree.
She reached next to her into a plastic bag of medical supplies from the pharmacy and pulled out some gauze, wiping around the wound. “There, all done. Only needed three bandages—it’s pretty small.”
He didn’t move, perfectly comfortable against her warm thighs. Staring up at her, he watched her tension ease while she put her supplies back into the bag, then continued to wipe around his face with an alcohol swab to get the dried blood off.
“I’m not the town hero, by the way,” he said, referring to her earlier mention.
Zoe rolled her eyes. “That’s not what the big banner hanging over Main Street with your face on it says.”
Miles frowned. He hated that banner. Tobin was on it with him, and both of them wished the town hadn’t made such a big deal of their homecoming. He certainly didn’t feel like a hero…not after what he’d done.
“Well, I’m not. Plus, what you do is just as heroic. When did you decide to become a nurse?” he asked. “You hated blood in high school.”
“How do you know that?” she asked, balling the bandage wrappers and tossing them into the nearby trash can in a perfect arc.
His eyebrows rose as he followed her shot, impressed with her skill. “The championship game against Grove City, I got tackled by their quarterback.”
“They busted your entire lip open and you were drooling blood like some wild animal.” She grimaced, her nose crinkling. “It was pretty disgusting.”
“I’ve never seen anyone’s face literally turn green before. You looked like you couldn’t decide between fainting or puking,” he teased.
She gave a gentle smack across his chest, silently chiding him. “I was not. I never minded blood, but it wasn’t until I took an anatomy class in college that I was sold on medicine. Finished my Bachelors, became a registered nurse, got a job in a hospital for a while, and now I’m back here.”
“Where did you do all that?” he asked, lifting his arm to gently touch his fingers to her shoulder.
She leaned into his touch, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for his fingers to be tracing circles down her arm, a silent thrill running through him at her acceptance “Um, Penn State, then the Children’s Hospital there.”
“That’s an amazing school,” he told her. “Still a brainiac, I see.”
“I thought you didn’t remember me from high school.” She tilted her head to the side slightly, her hand going to his head again, this time sliding through his hair in slow caresses.
“Mmm,” he moaned, his eyes fluttering closed at her touch, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “Of course, I remember you, Zo.”
“Oh.” Her fingers still soothing his hair.
He grinned at her. “It was a pretty small school after all.”
“Right, makes sense.” Her face flushed, as if she was embarrassed, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she’d hoped he’d meant something more.
“So why did you come back to Slipwick?” he finally asked. “Sounds like you had it good out there in the big city, what made you want to come back here and work for my old man?”
“It was hardly a ‘big city’,” she told him. “Once I got back, I really needed a job. Walter was kind enough to give me one, plus a place to stay. You have a great father there, Miles.”
Miles nodded, but didn’t say anything, letting a moment of silence pass between them.
“I came back because I got divorced,” she blurted.
Surprise registered on Miles’s face. “You were married?”
She waved her hand, as if to say it was no big deal. “Not for very long. I met Rusty in college and we were together for a little while, then after graduation, one thing led to another and we got married. I was twenty-three, had no idea what I was doing. Not surprisingly, it lasted six months before we called it quits. I came back to Slipwick and moved in with my parents for a bit before finding this job and moving in here.”
He said nothing at first, trying to absorb the amount of information she’d just thrown at him. She’d been married? That alone bothered him, but there was something behind her words bothering him more.
His hand moved up her shoulder to find a lock of her hair, twisting it gently around his index finger. “And now for the uncensored version?”
Zoe frowned. “What do you mean?”
“That’s the version you tell anyone who asks. All scrubbed clean and pretty. Not a lie, but not entirely the truth either,” he explained. “So, what’s the uncensored version?”
Her tongue flicked out over her lips, wetting them, as her face resembled a deer-caught-in-the-headlights look. He wondered if he’d asked too much, or pushed too far. After all, they’d barely known each other in high school, and only a few days since then.
He didn’t have a right to be asking about her darkest secrets, and yet he couldn’t stop himself. He dropped her hair and reached for her face instead, his palm cupping her jaw and his thumb rubbing down her cheek.
“Tell me,” he asked again.
Inhaling deeply, she looked away from him, fear flickering over her features. “Rusty was a drinker. I thought it was only recreational when we were dating, but after we were married and living together, I realized how dependent on it he was. He was…” She swallowed hard, her fingers toying with a small silver necklace she was wearing. “He was an angry drunk.”
Miles’s hand dropped from her face, his jaw tight and eyes narrowed. “He hit you?”
She couldn’t seem to speak—opening her mouth then closing it. She nodded yes.
“Fucking coward. I can’t stand men like him,” he muttered, rage rushing through his every limb as he imagined fifteen different ways to murder the piece of shit who’d dared to lay a hand on a woman. “If I ever meet that piece of—”
“It’s really okay,” she squeaked out, resting one hand on his chest.
His hand reached for hers, grabbing it and interlocking their fingers, resting them together on his chest. His focused his eyes on her, wanting her to see how serious he was, how much he meant this. “It’s not okay, Zo. And I don’t e
ver want to hear you say that again. It’s never okay for a man to put his hands on you in anger—period.”
She swallowed, hard. Tears formed at the edge of her lashes, but she blinked them back quickly.
His gaze dipped down to her lips, beautiful and swollen as she exhaled slowly. Her teeth pulled at the bottom, nibbling the edge of her lips before letting go.
A low growl rumbled in his chest as he pushed up on his elbows until he was seated in front of her, leaning into her. She didn’t pull back, and he didn’t push forward. His lips hovered inches from hers, an ache in his chest pounding against his ribcage. “You deserve better, Zo.”
Her eyes fluttered close, but he needed to know she heard him.
“You deserve better,” he repeated, and he realized he didn’t just mean better than what her marriage had provided. She deserved better. Period. He was so close to almost kissing her, and she seemed to be letting him, but she deserved so much better than someone like him.
“Zoe!” Walter’s voice trailed up to them from some distant part of the house.
Reality pulled him back from the edge, and Zoe blinked quickly, staring at him as if she didn’t know what to do. He certainly had no answers for either one of them.
“I have to go,” she whispered reluctantly.
His eyes searched hers for a moment before he slowly nodded. “That’s probably a good idea.”
She looked disappointed at his response, but scooted off the bed anyway. “I’ll keep checking on you, and you need to stay awake. Just in case you have a concussion.”
Grabbing the bag of supplies from the pharmacy, she headed for the door, leaving him alone on her bed.
Miles stared after her and wondered if he’d made a huge mistake.
9
“Are you kidding me? Nineteen hundred dollars?” Miles pointed at his car he’d had been towed to the local mechanic the morning after his accident. “It’s barely scratched!”
“Hey, it costs what it costs,” the man in blue coveralls informed him, a completely unconcerned look on his face. “You did a number on it—headlight, tire, dents popped out, scratches buffed, windshield, and that’s just the exterior. Plus, it’s an old Camaro.”
Miles clenched his teeth, his hands fisted at his sides. “This is bull. I know you can do this cheaper.”
“Then take it to another mechanic for a second opinion.” The man tilted his head to the side, a smug grin on his face. Easy for him to say, since the next mechanic was several towns over, and the towing alone would cost more than the repair.
A silent battle of wills dueled between the men as they stared at each other, until Miles broke first, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Fine, but it better look brand-fucking-new when you’re done.”
“Pleasure doing business with you.” The mechanic handed him an invoice, then walked back into the shop.
“You got robbed, man.”
Laughter from behind him sent Miles spinning around, heart racing.
Tobin was leaning against the garage wall, grinning like an idiot and making lewd gestures. “I mean, he bent you over and went to town!”
“What the hell do you know about cars?” Miles growled as he stormed past Tobin toward his friend’s car.
“Thanks for picking me up, Tobin. You’re so awesome, Tobin. You’re the bestest friend in the whole wide world, Tobin,” his friend mocked as he climbed into the ugly, old Saturn. “Better start appreciating me or I’m leaving your ass here.”
Miles’s clapped his hand together as if he was praying, his voice going falsetto. “Oh yes, thank you so much, your majesty. Thank you for picking me up in this rusted piece of junk.”
“See? Was that so hard?”
Miles grunted and slid into the passenger’s side.
Tobin started the engine, spinning the tires on the gravel as they shot out of the mechanic’s lot. Without asking, he pointed toward downtown.
“Where are you going?” Miles scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. “My house is the other direction.” Damn, the whole world is out to piss me off this week.
“Um, let’s see, in less than twenty-four hours, you’ve wrecked your car, fucked up your face, and lost your job,” Tobin started listing the shitty highlights reel of the week. “This calls for a drink, Kydd.”
Miles’s lips twitched in a grin, and to be honest, a beer sounded perfect right about now. “My face is not fucked up.”
Tobin chuckled. “Sure, it’s not. That’s the attitude.”
“Asshole.”
By the time they pulled into the Ginger Hill Tavern parking lot a few minutes later, Miles’s muscles had relaxed and the knot in his stomach dissolved as he found himself looking forward to a carefree evening. Tobin was all smiles—as usual—and Miles found himself wondering how Tobin seemed so okay with life, still so goofy and silly, and he wished he could learn to have his friend’s resilience.
Until then, at least he’d have beer.
“Whiskey, neat. And a side of your phone number.” Tobin winked at the pretty brunette bartender a few minutes later as he leaned his elbows against the wooden bar and slid onto a stool.
Miles positioned himself on a stool next to Tobin and held up two fingers to indicate to the bartender he would have the same.
“Two whiskeys, I can do,” the bartender replied, pulling two bar glasses out from the shelf under the bar. “The phone number, hell no. I don’t feel like being murdered by Bianca today.”
“Who is Bianca?” Miles asked as the bartender slid a glass of whiskey in front of each of them.
“He hasn’t told you who Bianca is? They’ve been inseparable for two weeks.” She wiped her hands on a small towel hanging from the apron around her waist. “Ooh, Tobin, she’s going to be mad if she finds out you’re not bragging about her.”
Miles’s smacked Tobin on the arm. “You’ve got a steady girl? How the hell am I just hearing about this now?”
“First of all, I don’t have a steady girl—no one tames this stallion.” Tobin tossed back his entire glass of whiskey in one go. “Second of all, don’t tell Bianca about the first of all because she scares the shit out of me.”
The bartender laughed and handed Tobin a fresh glass before walking to the back.
“Are you going to tell me about this chick?” Miles continued nursing his first drink slowly as Tobin was finishing his second.
Tobin shrugged, avoiding eye contact. “She’s a new cocktail waitress here. Never saw her around before, and I’m not really sure where she’s from. Hell of a lay though.”
“I don’t know whether to congratulate you, or help you escape.”
Tobin grinned, finishing his glass and pushing it back on the bar. “Both, man. Scary is sexy, until the sex is over. Then it’s just scary as fuck, instead of a scary fuck. So far though—totally worth it.”
“Sounds to me like the stallion has been tamed,” Miles teased, seeing a look of genuine happiness on his friend’s face. Tobin had always been one to sleep around, and there had never been a time he’d been with a girl for two days, let alone two weeks. Hell, maybe this woman was the key to Tobin’s lightheartedness recently—maybe Zoe was the key to his.
Miles pushed the idea out of his mind immediately. He wasn’t about to dump all his problems on her—more than he’d already done, that is.
“I’m wild and free,” Tobin repeated, signaling the bartender for a third.
Miles lifted his glass, tipping it slightly in Tobin’s direction like a one-sided toast. “Whatever you say, Tob.”
Three whiskeys for Tobin and one for Miles later, a tall woman walked in to the tavern and glanced around, apparently looking for someone. Tobin stiffened, and when her eyes landed on him, she broke into a smile that lit her entire face. She was artfully made up to accentuate her nearly flawless features. The overhead lights flashed off her dark hair, and she brushed it away from her face with an olive-skinned hand as she waltzed over to him, swaying her mini-skirt-wearing hips in an exag
gerated motion.
“Kydd,” Tobin said under his breath, then nodded his chin toward her. “That’s Bianca.”
“Gorgeous, man.”
When she reached them, she pressed her breasts against Tobin’s arm and tucked her face into his neck kissing up to his ear, which she tugged with her teeth. “Baby, you look good enough to eat right now,” she growled, then continued to say a bunch more in Portuguese he didn’t understand.
Miles averted his eyes, suddenly very interested in counting the number of bottles lining the back of the bar. His peripheral hid nothing, and he saw her slid right onto Tobin’s lap, her legs dangling above the floor as their kiss heated into something out of an X-rated movie. There was a sudden growling noise and Tobin yelped in pain.
“Fuck, Bianca! I said no blood this time.”
She preened and kissed him on the tip of his nose. “Sorry, baby.”
Miles did his best to quell the nausea threatening to ruin his evening, instead focusing his eyes on the bartender who was smirking, giving him the I told you so look. He cleared his throat loudly and awkwardly, attempting to get the duo’s attention.
Miles leaned one elbow on the bar. “Are you going to introduce me to your girl, Tobin?”
Tobin pulled himself free of the woman’s lips. “Baby, this is my best friend, Miles Kydd. Miles, this is Bianca.”
Bianca turned her attention to Miles and tossed herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and bouncing off Tobin’s lap. “I haven’t met any of your friends! Wonderful to meet you, Miles! My name is Bianca, but I go by Bunny on stage. Call me either.”
Miles’s brows lifted. On stage? He untangled himself from her embrace as politely as he could, patting her on the shoulder awkwardly. “Lovely to meet you, Bianca. Nice to see Tobin so happy.”
Bianca pushed her butt backward against Tobin and looked at him over her shoulder. “You telling people about me, baby? Telling people how happy you are?”
Not A Hero: A Bad Boy Marine Romance Page 6
