The Community Series, Books 1-3

by Tappan, Tracy

  He swallowed hard and, ridiculously, heat stung the backs of his eyes. This night had just been so screwed up; losing Kendra Mawbry and getting shot, Gábor almost stumbling into the crossfire, too, then Dev landing in a regular human hospital and being threatened with dissection. But lying here now, feeling utterly wiped out and still reeling with aftershocks, he felt like he’d never been very far away from okay. He had a whole community of people watching out for him. Kimberly had come to the hospital, and his team had gotten him home. Toni and Doc Jess had clucked over him like a couple of mother hens, making sure he wasn’t going to die. And now here was Marissa, looking at him with those dainty creases between her brows. Because she was worried about him. Dev swallowed again, his Adam’s apple rasping against the inside of his parched throat. For the first time ever in his life, a woman who wasn’t a platonic friend or family member cared about him. A woman he’d met all of two days ago, but who could make a screwed-up night feel a whole lot less screwed by just being here with him and touching his arm.

  “No need to get violent, sweetheart. I just got winged,” he lied. “And I did come back, didn’t I?” He tossed a crooked smile at her, careful not to show fangs that were still being annoying.

  The creases melted from her brow. “Nevertheless…” He could tell she was still trying to sound huffy, but was losing momentum with that. “I’m not letting you out of my sight for a while.”

  He stirred. That was both an “uh, oh” and a “cool.”

  “I went to the library and checked out a couple of DVDs for us to watch together.” She held them up. “I have Notting Hill and Love Actually.”

  He squinted at the titles. “I think it’s probably very bad that I’ve never heard of those.”

  “They’re Hugh Grant movies.”

  “Chick flicks?”

  “Totally.”

  He groaned.

  “Oh, I think you’ll like these.” She slanted a sassy smile at him. “We get to make out during the boring parts. And, for you, that’s probably going to be often.”

  The hair on his nape prickled. From anticipation or alarm? Who the fuck could tell. It was probably a little of both. Because kissing her definitely sat at the top of his list of Things I Want To Do But Shouldn’t. The shouldn’t part? Based on a blood-need that would no doubt give his control the middle finger the moment his lips met hers, and the potential for groin-pain…yeah, that was the alarm side of things.

  “Although,” she added, “in this case, I might have to retract that offer.” Her mouth turned down at the corners a little. “You don’t exactly look like you were just winged.”

  “Nah, I’m okay. I just need some meds.” As in, blood. He grabbed his cell phone off his nightstand and texted Ruxandra. He’d pretend his blood donor was a nurse, then hole up with her in the bathroom long enough to choke down blood that would no doubt taste like rotting ass with Marissa so close by. But choke it down he would. His chances of getting Marissa to leave were slim—not with her stubborn side banging heads against his weak resolve—and he was under no illusions about what watching a movie with her would entail: cuddling together in his oversized armchair, her against his side, his arm around her, her head resting on his shoulder. The smell of her hair in his face. The only way he could come close to handling that was to get his fangs to quit acting like a couple of oil pumpjacks wanting to drill deep.

  “Once a nurse gets here,” he told her, “I’ll be down for a movie.”

  “Great.” She hopped off his bead. “I’ll just pop in one of these DVDs.” He watched her head toward his entertainment center, his eyes pinned on her shapely ass. Her pajama pants were clingy, and…he didn’t see a panty line in sight. Commando?

  He bit back a moan, his breath stalling in his chest. His hunger stretched, an insistent fucking beast, lust knotting along the muscles in his legs and lower back.

  “Love Actually first.” Marissa crouched down in front of his DVD player.

  “I’ll, um…I’m sorry, but I’ll have to take a rain check on the making out part.” Probably best not to overestimate the level of ‘handle it’ satisfaction he was going to get out of Ruxandra.

  Marissa turned on her heels and looked at him, her expression soft. “That’s okay,” she said with an understanding smile.

  He felt himself blush. He probably sounded like a complete virgin with that. Which… yeah… “But I am claiming that kiss, and I know just the place we can go for me to redeem my rain check.” He smiled, as big as he could manage with his lips pressed together.

  There, that added some testosterone back into his game. Damn straight.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “I don’t think you’re ready for this, Dev. You were shot just two days ago.” Marissa turned from the twenty-foot-tall rock wall and looked at him. “I doubt rock climbing is among your prescribed recovery exercises.” Butterflies chased moths ’round and ’round in her stomach. Honesty is the best policy time: she was the one who wasn’t ready for this. Not today, not tomorrow. Not when pigs competed for an Olympic ice dancing Gold in Hell.

  “I’m fine, Riss,” Dev assured her. “No worries.”

  He did look fine. Amazingly. The mischievous sparkle was back in his eyes, the color in his cheeks was good, and his broad shoulders stretched the limits of his T-shirt with robust health. Guess he actually had only been winged.

  Dev crouched down to retie his boot. “What I want to show you at the top is worth the climb, and look—” As he straightened, he pointed up the face of the cave wall. “There are hand holds and steps the whole way. It’ll be a cinch.” He urged her forward.

  “Wait!” She stumbled back to her original position. “Aren’t we going to use that rope and pulley system?” The contraption was hanging to the side of the so-called hand holds and steps.

  He tsked and looked at her from beneath his brows. “That’s for amateurs.”

  “I’m an amateur!” she shot back, her voice rising. Actually, um…that’d been a full-on shout.

  His chin came up slowly, and then his eyebrows arched onto his forehead.

  She hid a grimace. Well, great. Screaming meant she owed him an explanation. “All right, look. I usually don’t tell men this a week into dating them—because the news sends them running away like I’m some genetic abnormality, which I’m not—but I had scoliosis when I was a kid.”

  He stepped back, his eyes leveled on her. Listening.

  “That’s curvature of the spine, just to clarify. I was diagnosed when I was six. My mom limited my activity, but it still grew worse. By eight I was in a back brace. As you can probably imagine, I was the town circus act, which was such a lovely way to grow up. And at school—ha! No need to expound on that. I wore the brace till I was ten, at which point I had surgery to fuse a couple of my vertebrae. I didn’t do much of anything in the years I wore the brace, and even after I no longer needed it, I was still always careful. Then…when I was fourteen, something happened and…I was determined not to be afraid anymore. I tried different activities, then harder ones, more and more, even though my mom somewhat freaked out. I joined a biking club, went on a white water rafting trip, even played soccer for a season. I never did gymnastics or tennis or things that required too much twisting of my back, though. Because I knew my limitations, Dev, and I worked within them. That’s how I was able to be brave about my new adventures. I pushed myself, but never too far.” Well, this had been more of a speech than she’d initially planned. She pointed a finger upward. “Climbing a twenty-foot-tall wall of rock is too much.” She paused. “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged. “Don’t be sorry. And, anyway,” he hiked on a large backpack, “this is one of those things you can do.”

  “But—”

  “There’s no back twisting involved here, Riss. Just straight up, straight back down. I’ll be with you the whole time.”

  She gulped, a slow, bumpy swallow. “You’ll…you’ll help me?”

  He shook his head, left to right.
“Nope.”

  “But—” She didn’t know why she bothered with the “buts.” He wasn’t listening to her.

  Dev gently turned her around to face the wall and took her hands in his, placing each of hers in an indentation in the rock face: the first rungs of their ladder up. “Look down,” he told her. “See those holes? Use those as steps. Feet in, then push up with your legs, then grab onto the next hand holds, then feet in the next steps, etcetera. As I said: a cinch.”

  Maybe for someone who was part monkey. She stared up the huge expanse of rock wall. It was miles—no, eons—to the top. Her hands shook in the indentations and her breathing scattered.

  Dev leaned into her, his wide chest pushing against her back, his mouth near her ear. “No thought of how far, just one step at a time. And by the way, my genetics are strong enough for both of us.”

  She craned her head around, gaping at him over her shoulder. Was he saying…he didn’t care about her scoliosis?

  He winked. “If it ever comes to that.” His fingers skimmed over her waist. “Let’s go, sweetheart. You’re going to slam dunk this.”

  Dev’s confidence in her gave her nerves a boost of calm. That’s how I was able to be brave about my new adventures. I pushed myself. She nodded firmly. Okay, time to walk that talk, Marissa. She rotated her hips, checking her spine. She was stretched out a bit, but not too badly. Besides, even though Dev said he wouldn’t help her, she knew for certain he wasn’t going to let her fall. She sucked in a huge breath, expelled it, then started climbing.

  She was alone in space for the first few feet, her temples pounding in time to her erratic heartbeat, her movements slow and excessively careful. Then she felt Dev climb up right behind her. She could feel his body heat hovering around her legs and her—

  “Cute shorts,” he told her. “And an even cuter ass, by the way.”

  She chuckled breathlessly. “God, don’t make me laugh. I’ll fall.”

  “Don’t think so. You’re almost to the top.”

  She stopped. Really?

  Dev’s nose nudged her right butt cheek. “Keep going or I’ll bite into the meaty part.”

  Laughing again, she continued on. “You’re a dirtbag.” She made it to the top, boosted herself over the edge onto her belly, then scooted forward until she could get her knees under her. She stood…on top of the world!

  Dev lithely swung himself onto the ledge, much more athletically graceful than she’d been, but still…

  “I did it!” She pumped both fists in the air. “Wahoo! I made it, and you didn’t help me.”

  He beamed at her. “Not a bit.”

  She threw herself at Dev’s chest. “Thank you.”

  One arm came around her waist, and he laughed.

  She kissed his check, then stepped back, sunny joy swirling through her. “Thanks for believing in me.”

  “You make it easy.” He smiled so broadly, she caught a glimpse of his sharp, hickie-giving teeth. “Now for another cool part.” He took her by the hand, twining his fingers with hers, and led her through a short tunnel. On the other side there was another ledge, wider than the one they’d just climbed onto, providing a perfect view of the back side of the Water Cliffs park. Dev unslung his backpack with a quick, sideways lean of his shoulders and unzipped it, pulling out a blanket. He spread it on the ground. “Lie down,” he instructed her.

  She crossed her arms and tossed her ponytail. “I’m not that grateful, Mr. Hanky-Panky.”

  He chuckled, even as his pupils dilated, deepening the silver of his eyes to grey smoke. “Betcha you are,” he growled. Grabbing her hand, he tugged her down onto the blanket next to him. She tumbled against his side, her arm flopping over his chest, and a giggle slipped out of her.

  “On your back, you goofball.” Dev pointed to the cave roof. “And check that out.”

  She rolled over and—“Dear God,” she gasped. “What is that?” A large section of the ceiling directly above them looked almost like glass, and, more spectacularly, seemed to be roiling like an indigo-colored super-sized lava lamp.

  “That,” Dev said, “is a sheet of volcanic rock, and what you’re seeing is the sun shining through the ocean topside.”

  She followed the slow, hypnotic movements with her eyes, mesmerized by the shifting, churning clouds of blue…azure, cobalt, navy, cerulean. “This must be what dropping acid feels like.”

  Dev snorted. “This is supposed to be romantic. Don’t go getting all loopy on me now.”

  “No,” she said dreamily. Well…maybe.

  “Hey, I’ll have you know that an entire picnic is in that backpack, wine and gourmet treats guaranteed to satisfy a chef. I even special-ordered some French paté.”

  “Goodness.” She smiled as the ceiling changed into a couple of whale-blobs swimming around each other. “When you redeem a rain check for a make-out session, you don’t kid around. I’m feeling thoroughly seduced.”

  He rolled onto his side and propped his head on his hand.

  She felt him watching her.

  “I left out a little something in our genetics discussion earlier,” he said.

  She turned her head to meet his gaze.

  “I have my own genetic…issue.” Without a single discernible muscle moving in his face, his expression somehow turned serious. “I’m allergic to vitamin D. I can’t go out in the sun.”

  She drew her brows together. “Oh, Dev, I’m so sorry.” That was a big one.

  “It’s okay, I’m cool with it now, but…” He inhaled a measured breath. “I know what it’s like to feel like the town circus act. I guess not so much down here in this cave town, where I don’t have to alter my lifestyle much, and I’m surrounded by awesome people, but…it hovers, you know.”

  She nodded, this peek of vulnerability in him burrowing into her heart. “I do know,” she said quietly.

  “I’ve had my share of dates run from me, too.” He glanced sideways, as if he had something else to confess, but nothing more came out of his mouth.

  “Well, I’m not one of those women.”

  His head came back around and he eye-locked her, his look intense, as if probing out the truth of that.

  She returned one of his trademark winks to him.

  His face cleared. “But I can guarantee the rest of me”—he gave his thick chest a caveman thump with his fist—“is genetically solid.”

  “Oh, I can definitely see that.”

  Smiling, he brushed his fingers along her cheek, then traced the curve of her ear. “What happened when you were fourteen to make you more brave?”

  She’d just begun to melt beneath his touch when his question side-swiped her. The muscles in her stomach jerked. “Oh…”

  His brows inched up. “Hey, sorry. I didn’t think I was opening a can of worms.” He straightened and dug into the backpack, pulling out a bottle of white wine and a corkscrew. “You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to.”

  “I…” She sat up. “It has to do with my sister, so…it’s a painful memory.”

  She watched the muscles in Dev’s forearm ripple as he cranked the corkscrew in. He yanked the cork out with a resounding pop, doing everything mutely, probably waiting for her to find her way.

  She swiped her bangs back, but her hair just fluttered right back onto her forehead. “When my sister Natalie was about ten years old, she started hating me. I have no idea why. Still don’t.” Marissa searched the backpack, extracting the first things she found: Brie and a baguette. “When we were young, Natalie had a knack for finding ways to undermine me at home, getting me in trouble and creating more work for me. That wasn’t enough, apparently; when I was a freshman in high school, she upped her boldness in the nasty-department. She found out that a couple of boys in my class had a thing for me, and…” Marissa slowly unwrapped the Brie.

  Dev sat with the wine bottle propped on his thigh, just listening.

  “Natalie arranged an ambush. She and the two boys jumped me on a deserted stretch
of road on the way home from school, and stripped me down to my underwear, laughing the whole time.”

  Dev’s fingers flexed white around the wine bottle, the mischievous sparkle in his eyes sharpening to a dangerous glitter.

  Marissa set the Brie on a plate. She couldn’t tell him the next part, how Natalie had snarled, “now fuck her,” to the two boys, who, thank God, had run away in a panic. “The boys left, and Natalie stole my clothes.”

  Dev’s voice deepened. “How did you get home?”

  “Sneaked through a couple of back yards.” She ripped the baguette in two and set in on the plate next to the Brie. “You’ll probably think this is strange, but I was more worried that people would see my ugly, lumpy spine, rather than my panties and bra.”

  “Hell, I bet it’s not that bad.” Dev set aside the wine bottle, and before she knew what was happening, he had her turned over onto her stomach.

  “Dev!” she gasped as he pushed up her shirt in back. “What are you doing?!”

  She stopped breathing as his fingertips traced the length of her scar, a light caress that sent tingles along the entire path of her spine. “Knew it,” he murmured. He bent his head to her back and kissed the uneven spot of her vertebrae, his lips soft and his goatee a velvet rasp. “Not ugly at all.”

  She exhaled a whoosh of air. “Oh, God.” She slapped a hand over her eyes, suddenly teary.

  He hesitated. “What’s that about?” he asked quietly.

  “J-just memories.” And no one has ever touched me like that before. She dropped her hand and looked at him. “Don’t worry,” she whispered. “That felt good.”

  His eyes danced. “More later, then.” He carefully pulled her shirt down and rested his palm on her lower back. “So that’s what changed you? You didn’t want to be overpowered again, right?”

  “That’s exactly why.” She turned onto her side, and Dev’s hand slid into the indent of her waist. “I’d always hated feeling weak, but after that, it became intolerable.” She gave him a watery smile. “I suppose I should thank Natalie for that, but she and I…”