He needed time.
“So, what’s the verdict?” Walter asked the moment Miles walked into the living room. His father was relaxing in his recliner watching one of his favorite shows on television, but he studied Miles expectantly, the show apparently forgotten.
“I got the job,” Miles announced, hands up as he swelled with pride. For the first time since he’d arrived home almost a month ago, he felt like his old self again.
In charge. Competent. Confident.
Miles Kydd was back, and now part of a private security firm.
“Congratulations, son!” Walter boomed, pushing forward in his chair to sit on the edge. He pulled his oxygen tube around him to keep from accidentally sitting on it, then reached a hand out to Miles.
He shook his father’s hand. “Thanks, Pops.”
“You took it; I’m assuming? How’s the pay?” his father began peppering him with questions. “Benefits?”
“Great benefits, actually. I could get sick as a dog and wouldn’t pay a thing.”
Walter’s brows rose. “Wow, you don’t see that anymore.”
“Exactly. And the pay is great, the people are great, so yeah, I took it.”
“Big things are happening for you, Kydd.” Walter chuckled. “I knew they would. You’re smart as a whip.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“So I guess this means you’re moving out?” His father’s voice noticeably slowed, heavy and sad.
Miles shook his head. “Why would you think that? I’m not going anywhere.”
“It’s about an hour to Pittsburgh, son,” Walter argued. “You don’t want to be driving such a long commute every day.”
“It’s not too bad. I’d rather be coming home to this house and you than a boring, lonely apartment.” He almost added Zoe to his list of things he wanted to come home to, but thought better of it.
“Suit yourself.” Walter shrugged. “As long as you don’t mind an old man cramping your style. It’s not like you can bring a date home, thanks to your dear old dad.”
Miles laughed, his head tilting back slightly at the thought. “Who says I haven’t already snuck a date upstairs?” he joked.
“Dinner’s ready,” Zoe said from behind him. “And Walter, it’s time for your evening meds.”
Miles startled and spun around. “Oh, Zoe. Hi.” He cleared his throat, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
She didn’t respond, her lips twitching slightly as one brow raised.
“I don’t, uh, or I haven’t, brought any dates home. Not to say I’ve had any dates. Because I haven’t been dating anyone, um, except, uh, non-dates.” Miles fumbled over his words so badly, he was sure his face was on fire. He wasn’t even sure why he felt the need to explain his joke to her, or why he even cared if she thought he was with other women.
But he did care, and the feeling was unsettling.
“We’ll be right in, Zoe,” Walter said, looking past him and nodding to the young nurse. “Thanks.”
She nodded and hurried out of the room, Miles staring after her.
“Well, that was uncomfortable for everyone,” Walter said, pushing himself to a standing position with the help of a walker. “Is something going on between you two?”
“What?” Miles turned to face his father, quickly coming over to help him. “No, nothing. She’s your nurse.”
“Exactly, and I don’t want another one. She’s great, but she isn’t a casual woman. Plus, if you break her heart, she’s probably going to quit or move out, and I’d be pissed as hell at you for that.”
“She wouldn’t quit,” Miles assured him, positive Zoe wasn’t the type. Plus, he’d seen how bonded she was with his father, and he doubted she’d up and leave because of a romance gone south with his son. “But there’s nothing going on.”
“I’d rather not take the chance, Miles. She’s one of the good ones, and you’re…”
Miles stepped back from his father slightly, glaring at him. “I’m what, Dad? I’m not one of the good ones?”
“That’s not what I’m saying, kid, and you know it.” Walter frowned. “I’m just saying she deserves the best, and you’re not at your best right now. Now come on, let’s go eat.”
Miles paused for a moment to let his father’s words sink in before following him into the kitchen. He’d spent the last few weeks reminding Zoe he was bad news, so it wasn’t like he’d said anything different than his father had said. But hearing it out of someone else’s mouth? It sounded so jarring, and made him start to doubt his own stance.
Maybe he could be the relationship type.
14
“Ooh rah,” Miles said, a smile spreading over his face as each of his bullets pierced his targets.
Tobin jumped up from where he’d been kneeling as the three insurgents in front of him crumpled to the ground.
Three bullets.
That’s all it had taken to save his best friend.
Miles was a Marine—one of the best. Pride swelled in his chest as he walked toward the fallen enemies and his buddy. These weren’t his first kills, and they probably wouldn’t be his last, and he wouldn’t feel sorry about it. This was his job. This was his mission. This was his duty to his country.
He clapped a hand on Tobin’s back, his gun slung over his shoulder. “You okay, Leach?”
Tobin’s eyes stayed forward, cast down at the ground where their enemies lay dead. “Fuck, Kydd. He’s dead.”
Miles frowned, confused by the sadness in his friend’s voice. “They were about to kill you, Tobin.”
“He wasn’t.” Tobin’s finger stretched from his fist, pointing down.
Miles’s gaze followed, landing on the farthest insurgent from where Miles had been shooting. A tall man in a thick, dark robe, stained with a single bullet wound to the chest, his hood tipped backwards revealing blood trailing from his mouth. Sticking out from his side was a small arm, with an even smaller hand, twitching and shaking.
Please God, no, Miles’s thoughts swelled into a crescendo as he dropped to his knees and heaved the dead man onto his side.
Terrified eyes stared back at him, dark brown and filled with fear as the young boy’s body trembled. A deep red circle on his shirt got darker, wider, thicker, as it oozed blood.
“We’re going to get you help,” Miles told the boy, moving to pick him up. “You’re going to be okay.”
The young boy screamed, his eyes somehow wider as Miles moved closer to him.
Tobin gently pulled Miles back. “Kydd, let me get him to the medic. He’s scared.”
“Of me?”
Of course he was—I had shot him.
I’d shot a child.
And I had killed a child.
15
Zoe sat up in bed so fast, she almost slid right off the side. Eyes wide, she tilted her head to listen for the noise that woke her again. Sure enough, a gravelly moan began, followed by a shout of pain. Then another, more strangled sounding this time.
Her initial worry was it was Walter. She’d had to get up in the middle of the night before with him, particularly when he was going through the chemotherapy and vomiting at all hours. Since he’d opted for palliative care instead, things had been a lot less painful, and he’d been sleeping through the nights easily.
The shouts came again, and this time Zoe knew without a doubt who it was.
She moved to the edge of the bed and stood, tiptoeing toward the door and peering out into the hallway. The sound was more pained now, agony almost. With slow and deliberate steps, she walked down the wooden floor wearing a white camisole with thin straps over a pair of plaid patterned, short pajama bottoms, that were actually more like boxers.
She paused in front of Miles’s bedroom door, which was a few feet from hers, her hand lingered on the doorknob. Reservations nagged at her, worried she was out of bounds. This wasn’t just her home; it was her job. There was a level of professionalism expected from her, and going into her pat
ient’s son’s room in the middle of the night was definitely frowned upon in the handbook.
Another torn moan sounded through the other side of the door, ridding her of all reason. An urgent call in her soul demanded she help anyone suffering, and she had no choice but to answer it.
She turned the handle and quickly stepped through the dark opening, closing the door just as fast behind her. Her back pressed against the door, she paused for a moment to acclimate her eyes to the darkness.
Miles’s bed was against the far wall, directly in the center of the room and the main focal point. Giant posters reached up from all four corners, making the bed look like it belonged in a castle instead of a cabin style home in the woods.
He was unmistakable—sprawled out across the bed like a starfish, his chiseled bare chest shining with the moonlight cast through the window on one side of the room. The blanket stretched low across his pelvis, his legs disappearing underneath.
As she moved closer, she could see the sweat pinning his hair to his forehead, and the twitch in his fingertips, or his lips, as small, pained groans emitted from his throat. Another loud shout made her jump, and she scurried to the side of his bed as if he’d save her from himself.
“Miles?” she whispered at first, before getting louder. “Miles? Wake up—are you okay?”
He moved so quickly, she didn’t have time to react. His large hands reached out and grabbed her by her upper arms, yanking her down onto the bed, pressed against his body. Not expecting the sudden rush, she went down hard, slamming into the soft mattress. He enveloped her in a bear hug, his arms around her back as they lay on their sides facing each other.
“Miles!” Zoe shrieked, pushing against his chest, his strong arms granting no freedom. “Wake up! It’s me, Zoe! Let go of me!”
Miles’s grip on her arms loosened as he blinked his eyes open and squinted down at her. They were both breathing hard at the sudden exertion, and he still hadn’t let her go. Something about the look in his eyes made her stop struggling and press closer.
He was so warm, and her skin felt like it was coming to life under his embrace. She fit like a glove against his body, and it didn’t feel strange. Despite the suddenness and shock of his hold on her, she couldn’t find an ounce of fear inside her.
She trusted him, even when it was clear he didn’t trust himself.
“Zoe?” he whispered.
“Uh, yeah, who’d you think it was?” Zoe tried for humor, teasing him a bit, but he didn’t smile. His eyes didn’t sparkle or brighten—they were dark. Haunted. Hurting.
He swallowed hard and pulled her tighter against him, his arm around her lower back this time. “Zoe…”
She didn’t respond, instead tilting her head to look directly at him. Her head was cradled against his upper arm, his hand curved around her to tangle his fingers in her hair and pull her closer to him.
“I can’t stop remembering,” he finally said, his voice low and filled with sorrow. “I can’t stop seeing it again and again.”
Zoe lifted a hand to his face, cupping his jaw and stroking gently in hopes of soothing his pain. “I’m sorry, Miles. The nightmares sound awful—that’s why I came to check on you.”
He surveyed her face for a moment, both hesitating and asking for more all in the same look. “Take it away, Zoe.”
She furrowed her brows, but said nothing, unsure what he meant.
“Help me not feel like this anymore, or at least for right now, for tonight. Please, Zoe.” His voice caught, and a shine appeared in his eyes that almost looked like tears. Zoe blinked in surprise at the very idea of this strong man crying, or that he’d let her see such an intimate part of himself. “When I’m with you, it goes away. You can take it away. Please, Zoe.”
Zoe swallowed hard, her mind racing through a million thoughts. He needed more help than she could provide, that she knew without a doubt. But if she could take away his pain, even for one night, she wanted to. She needed to.
It’s who she is.
And if she was being honest, it wasn’t one-sided. The heaviness that had hung over her soul for the last year since her divorce was lifted when Miles was around. She felt an ease and familiarity with him she couldn’t explain, and being this close to him, pressed against him, had her body on fire. His eyes darkened, boring into her, but he didn’t move. He waited, leaving it up to her, and she knew then and there she wanted more.
She wanted him.
“Okay,” she breathed out, her fingers stroking his cheek as she held his gaze. “I’ll take it away.”
Leaning in, she pressed her lips to his. Simple, slow, unpressured. Adding a little pressure, she kissed him harder, longer. She kissed his top lip, then the bottom, pulling him between her lips in a way she hoped encouraged him to open up to her.
Miles began to respond, his hands sliding down her back before pulling the covers over the both of them, dropping it at their waists. He took hold of her lips with his, matching her fervor with his own excitement. His lips parted and their tongues met, and Zoe wasn’t sure she’d ever experienced a better kiss in her life.
Pushing her palm against his shoulder, she urged him to roll onto his back. The moment he did, she stretched one leg across his waist and lifted herself on top of him, straddling his body as she leaned forward and found his lips once more.
He groaned, but this time it sounded different from the anguished sounds he’d been making before. There was no mistaking the heaviness in his tone, but it was replaced with longing and pleasure which inspired a confidence in Zoe she hadn’t known she had.
His tongue dipped into her mouth as they kissed, and she moved her hips against his pelvis, her core already beginning to throb at the close contact as she straddled him. He lifted his hips to meet hers, and his hands pressed against her back, pulling her flat against him, kissing her with more and more fervor.
“God, Zoe, your mouth…” he exhaled sharply against her lips and she squirmed beneath him, heat pooling south in her body.
Her hands were flat against his pecs, now moving south as she felt every ripple of muscle on the way down. Abs like his shouldn’t be allowed—such perfection in every sculpted inch with indentations pointing down from his hips to below the hem of his boxers.
Zoe pushed up until she was sitting on him, his eyes dark and stormy as he watched her trace her fingers across the lines of his skin, dipping lower and lower with each pass. When she broke contact, lifting her hands from his skin, his breath shuddered. She smiled wickedly at the surge of power she felt at being able to affect him like this.
Grabbing the hem of her shirt, she kept her eyes on his as she lifted the fabric slowly up her body, over her head, and tossed it to the floor beside the bed. Miles’s eyes widened as her bare breasts came into view, the combination of the cold air in the room and the heat between the two of them causing her nipples to stiffen under his gaze.
His hands gripped her waist, squeezing lightly as if asking permission to roam higher. Her tongue flickered out over her lips, wetting them and calling his attention back to her eyes. His chest heaved beneath her, and she covered his hands with hers, sliding them up her stomach to her breasts.
“Touch me,” she instructed him, curving his hands beneath hers to cup her breasts.
She didn’t have to tell him twice, his thumbs brushing over her nipples making her tremble against his touch. There was no mistaking the growing bulge beneath her hips, pushing at the fabric of his boxers and begging to be let free. Zoe leaned back for a moment, relishing in his fingers teasing her nipples and the shaky feeling it left her with.
Her hands dipped below the hem of his boxers, gripping him against her palm. His entire body jolted at the contact, and he squeezed her nipples, sending the same jolt through her. Pushing his boxers farther down his legs, she peered down at him in her hand, both intimidated and impressed with his large size.
“Zoe, I won’t last much longer,” Miles said, his voice strained as his hands dropped to he
r hips and began to pull her shorts down. “Let me take care of you first.”
Zoe shook her head, but assisted him in pulling her shorts off, and then his boxers, until they were both naked. “Tonight isn’t about me,” she insisted.
She wanted it to be about him, at least for now. He’d asked for her help, and she planned to do just that. While the thought of it being all about her even for a little bit was unbelievably appealing, she had other priorities at the moment.
Plus, her body was more than ready to go from their slow, sensual buildup.
“It should always be about you,” he replied, sitting up beneath her and taking her face in his hands. He kissed her again, as deliciously as before, and she sagged against his chest at the intensity of it.
“Next time,” she breathed, separating enough to wrap her arms around his neck. “This time, let me be there for you.”
Flames lit in his eyes as his tongue flicked across his lower lip. One brow arched slowly. “So there will be a next time?”
The corner of her lips twitched into a smile, and she pressed her hips forward, pinning his length between them against her stomach. He swallowed hard and reached one hand over to his nightstand, fumbling to open the drawer and dig around. A few seconds later, he produced a small foil wrapper and ripped it open with his teeth.
Zoe ripped the condom from the foil before he could, sliding it down over him with several strokes that made his head dip forward, a groan rumbling through his chest. Once secured, she lifted her hips until he was at her entrance.
Miles grabbed her hips and made her pause. “Are you sure about this, cricket? I have a feeling once I’ve been in you, I’ll never be able to let go.”
“Who says I want you to?” she replied, before dropping her hips to his.
The moment their lips pressed together, his tongue diving into her mouth, she pushed down against him. His length pressed inside her, stretching her, filling her, completing her. She didn’t move for a moment, adjusting to him inside her and how perfect he felt in her warmth.
Not A Hero: A Bad Boy Marine Romance Page 10
