His hot breath hits my ear and I turn my head to meet his lips. I can’t tell how much time passes, but it feels like hours. I can’t think about or feel anything but him. It’s like I’m in a dream I can’t wake up from. But even better because I don’t want to. The scruff on his face grates at my skin and his kisses are soft and passionate, the imprints of his fingers burn hot all over my body.
Ray and I arrive at the same time and when we do, we lie there, limp in each other’s arms. I couldn’t move even if I wanted to. But I don’t, so I close my eyes, and drift off to sleep.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Ray
This morning I watch her. Not like the first time, when I was so hung over and embarrassed, I pretended to be asleep. Or in Moscow when I was in such a rush to find my sister, I had to leave her warmth behind. And certainly not the other day, when I left her there like a coward. This morning my fingers caress her belly. I watch her bare chest rise and fall and every so often, I lean in to kiss her plump lips.
This morning I am where I belong.
I gently reposition her, resting her head on my chest and closing my eyes as I revel in the sensation of her breath on my skin. If she were awake, I’d want her again. To lay her down on this bed and plant myself in side her over and over. I’d want her to kiss me back, call my name and make me harder than I’ve ever been. But I won’t wake her for my own selfish reasons. Not this time.
She was aggressive. Coaching me to give in and I almost did. But she has no idea what’s bubbling inside me when I touch her. And I have no idea if she’d be able to handle it.
I fall back to sleep with her pressed against me and when I dream it’s of my fantasies. Of me doing everything to her I’ve ever imagined. When I awake again, I ease out of the bed and slip into my clothes. I’ll need to take a walk, maybe even a run, if I want to burn this off. I have a feeling I’ve gotten myself in so deep, I’ll never find my way out. Not that I want to. I only hope she feels the same.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Sydney
I sit up in bed, my mouth instantly watering.
What is that?
I sniff deeply and my mind registers the intoxicating aroma. Coffee. But the coffee I drink never smells that good. Lately it’s been the kind that comes in a jar and settles at the bottom of the mug. This stuff smells like a cafe. Like a heavenly cafe.
I crawl off the futon and grab the nearest piece of clothing. It’s Ray’s. I close my eyes and breath in deeply as I pull the cotton rugby shirt over my head. The sweet scent of his cologne tugs at my lips and my heart skips a million beats.
My feet hit the floor and I pad quietly toward the kitchen. Lingering in the archway, I watch him at work. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs. And he’s stirring something vigorously in a bowl. With every movement his back muscles flex and heat stirs inside me.
I should leave him alone, but I can’t. Not when he’s standing there, half-naked in my kitchen. Not when I have him all to myself.
As I drifted off last night, part of me expected to find him gone in the morning. To be put to shame again like I was the other day. I’d said a lot of things. A lot of dirty, naughty things and I was scared I might have turned him off. But apparently, it only made him want to cook me breakfast.
I step forward, clearing my throat lightly and he turns to face me.
“Good morning.” A smile lights up his face. “Or should I say afternoon? You sure like your sleep.”
“Especially, when I’m extra tired.” I bite my lip.
Ray rests the bowl and whisk down on the counter and lessens the space between us. He reaches for me and I step into his arms. His lips brush my forehead and I swear I feel him swell against me.
“Sydney,” he murmurs. “What are you doing today?”
“You,” I reply.
And he chuckles. “I was thinking the same thing.”
I sigh. “Where did you get that coffee?”
Ray releases me and picks up one of the Styrofoam cups. “There’s always something better, Syd.” He fills the cup and reaches for the cream. I gesture to stop him, taking the coffee as is and bringing it to my lips.
“Oh, my God,” I murmur after the first taste.
Ray smiles then reaches behind me. “Better coffee and better doughnuts.”
He holds the pastry to my mouth, forcing me to take a bite. I chew slowly at first and, as the flavor hits my taste buds, I let out a little moan.
“Where?” It’s the only word I can form as I take the doughnut from his hand and sink my teeth in again.
“You haven’t tasted anything yet,” he says. “There’s this place in Portland that makes doughnuts that sell like crack. I’ll take you there someday.” He wraps his arms around my waist. “In the meantime, why don’t you go relax while I make you a real breakfast.”?
He kisses me on the neck before releasing me.
“I don’t know,” I say through a mouthful as, I stroll back out to the living room, “if it can get anymore real than this.”
“Trust me, Syd,” he responds. “It already has.”
EPILOGUE
Sydney pats my knee and gives it a light squeeze. Still, all I can do is stare through the windshield at the door to the motel room.
This isn’t right. Things shouldn’t go down like this. I shouldn’t even be doing this on my own. I should have waited for Mom like we agreed, waited until Mariah was ready. But there are so many things I have to say. Things I want to say on my own.
“San Francisco’s a great city. We could live here. It’s close enough to Oakland, right?”
I nod. “Sure.”
“And Jimmy. Maybe you could room with him again.”
I laugh. “I love him like a brother and I’m happy we won’t be miles apart, but I’m also relieved our roommate days are over. I think I’ll take my chances with just you. Least I’ll get something out of it.”
Her fingers stroke the back of my neck. “I can guarantee it.” Sydney sighs. “Imagine being a P.I. in San Francisco? It’d be like living in a movie.”
I snicker and drop a kiss on her forehead. “I guess it would be.”
“I still can’t believe you’re a Raider. How does it feel?”
Typical Sydney, always trying to lighten the mood.
“Like a dream come true.”
“Minus the staying in Washington part?”
I shrug. “Reese was right. It’s better to go with the team that wants you than hold out for what might be impossible. The Seahawks would have been amazing, but the chances of them getting me or trading out just to get me were slim. I’ll just have to prove to them how valuable I am.”
“Exactly.” She leans over and kisses me full on the mouth. “And you are very valuable, StingRay Carlson.”
“If only everyone thought that.”
“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. We can wait a couple of days. We’re here for an entire week.”
“And so is he.” I glance over at her. “What are the chances?”
She avoids my gaze and I reach over to take her hand in mine.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
This whole trip has my girlfriend’s skills written all over it. She knew my father would be in San Francisco this week. It’s why she insisted we come all the way out here to check things out. Using the guise of me being drafted by the Oakland Raiders and needing to find a place of course, but a trip like this could have waited.
I open the car door and give her hand one more squeeze before I slip out.
“Want me to come with?” she asks.
I shake my head. This is definitely something I need to do alone.
I knock on the door several times before it finally opens. The man on the other side looks like he just woke up. He’s squinting past the sunlight, his clothes twisting and wrinkled on his body like he’s been wearing them for days.
“Can I help you?” he grunts. “If you’re
here about a demo you might as well go home now. ‘Cause no way in hell am I gonna sign you after waking me from a sleep like that. No matter how good you are.”
“Luke Black?” I ask.
When he grunts an affirmative, my entire body starts to tingle. And when he steps back out of the sun, scrubbing a hand across his face I finally get a good first look. But I quickly realize it isn’t a first at all. I remember this man. I remember his face. And not just from the picture in my wallet or the eyes he shares with my sister. That face has always been there in the back of my mind, just waiting to be pulled to the surface.
“Jesus.” The way he’s watching me, I don’t know how to respond. “You look exactly like her,” he says.
“Can I come in?” My voice doesn’t sound like my own. It’s slightly high-pitched and apprehensive.
My father steps to the side and I enter, throwing one last glance over my shoulder in Sydney’s direction.
He cracks open a beer and hands it to me. I take it, holding it between my hands as I continue to watch his every move. We’re almost the same size. I’m a little beefier, but other than that we’re pretty much match for match.
He runs a hand through his dark silver-streaked hair and settles down on the arm of the sofa.
“So what brings you to San Francisco?”
I stare back, unsure of how to answer. Does he even have to ask?
“What brings you?”
“Business.”
“Oh yeah? What kind?”
“Music. As always.”
“So you…live here in California?”
He frowns and gives his head a good shake. “In Seattle, with my wife and…”
“Son.” I nod, choosing that moment to take a healthy swig of beer. “I heard about him. How old?”
“Twelve.”
“Is he your only one?” I clear my throat. “I mean besides…did you have any others?”
“Just Shane.” He looks down at his bottle. “And you and your sister.”
“You were wrong.”
His head snaps up, his gaze holding mine.
“To leave us. It was wrong. A really bad decision. I just thought you should know.”
“Ray, I…it was for the best.”
“Was it? Were you better off without us?”
“Of course not. But you were better off without me. Weren’t you? Didn’t you live a good life?”
“That doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change what you did. It doesn’t erase all the lies. It doesn’t change the fact that you never came looking for us. Not once.”
“I was going to. I just didn’t know how.”
I scoff and rest my beer on the table in front of me. “Don’t see what was so hard about it. It’s not like you didn’t know where we were. We live in your house, off your money. But not for long.”
He lets out a heavy sigh and moves onto the seat of the chair. “I asked your aunt not to contact me because I didn’t want anyone to get hurt. A judge was never going to let me have you back. And I didn’t see the point in fighting your grandparents. By the time they weren’t in the picture anymore you weren’t so little anymore. I didn’t want to upset your life. Or your sister’s. I hardly knew her. She’d have been coming home to a stranger.”
“And whose fault is that? Why’d you give us up in the first place? Mom explained, but it still makes no sense to me”
“To keep you safe. From our family’s mistakes. My father wasn’t a good man and that followed me for a lot of my life. Made it hard to live in a small town like Lewiston. People knew who I was, everyone knew. They knew what he’d done and they held it against us. After your mom died and I screwed things up on my own, I made things even worse. I didn’t want you to grow up with that stigma. I wanted your Aunt Sheila to protect you from all of it. And I knew she would—her and Dave.”
“But you didn’t have to abandon us. You didn’t have to give up altogether.”
“Maybe not. But I was young and impulsive. By the time I started to come to my senses it was too late. I was always too late.” He chuckles. “When I found about your football career I was proud. So proud you made it out of that place in one piece. Relieved you’d left the family legacy behind.”
“Legacy?”
“Music. We’ve always had a special talent for it. But it’s never really taken us to the best places. At least not me. Knowing my son was a superstar athlete was a relief. But then it just felt like I was too late all over again. I didn’t want to just show up asking about your life like that. I didn’t want you to think I was only interested in your fame.”
“You could have just said that.”
“Would you have believed me?”
I shrug. “Maybe. But you never gave me the chance. Besides you’re more famous than I’ll ever be.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “I doubt that. That was a very long time ago.”
My father places a hand on my shoulder and even though after everything I should want to brush it off, I can’t help but feel comforted.
“I’m sorry, Ray. I’ve never felt worse about anything in my life than leaving you and your sister behind. I didn’t just fail you. I failed your mother too. All she ever wanted was for me to be the best dad I could be. I was your father, but I was never your dad. I know I don’t have the right to ask. But I hope you’ll forgive me for that someday.”
I don’t want to. At least I shouldn’t. But I get the feeling my aversion to this man won’t come easily.
“I had a mom and a dad. They were good to me. They protected me. I came up all right, but I can’t say the same for Mariah.”
“She’s okay, right?”
“Haven’t you heard?”
“Heard what?”
I reach into my jacket pocket and pull out the article. I hand it to him and he fumbles with it before smoothing it out onto his lap. It takes several minutes before he finally looks up, his eyes misty, his brow creased.
“She said she’d take care of you. That you’d both be okay.”
“We don’t always have control over the way things turn out. Sometimes all we can do is sit down and let life take us on the ride.”
“Where is she?”
“Back in Seattle trying to fix things.” He hands me the paper but I gesture for him to keep it. “If you want to help her, you should go to her. Because she won’t reach out. She’s stubborn like that. And she can really hold a grudge.”
He laughs a little, but it doesn’t melt the sadness from his eyes. “I believe it. She’s just like her mother.” He smiles. “Both of them.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“Whatever it takes.”
The End
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More Books by F.X. Scully
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