Rest, My Love (Triple R Book 2)

by Jules Dixon

  Now I could clearly see her chest rise and fall. Her soft eyes flashed at me with the same look as that night three weeks ago. It wasn’t my imagination.

  She swallowed slowly. “Good night, Rahl.”

  The cool outside air seared my boiling skin like a December winter night. I jumped into the truck, taking a moment to think about what happened. Every cell in my body wanted that kiss to materialize, but not in a let’s-get-this-done-and-move-on-to-the-main-attraction kind of way. But if we’d started, I wouldn’t want to stop. Hell, to pull away when I did had my nuts spitting at me in their sack.

  Her angelic rendition of the song had softened someplace deep inside me that had been hardened by the last few years. Like the lyrics and melody were for someone. Maybe me? She confirmed my doubt when I confronted her. But still, when she slipped down my front, the friction of our bodies and the situational temptation led my body into feeling something new for her. And her whisper of my name in that soothing but sensual tone was as moving as her song.

  No, it was better. Hearing my name that way was about the best fucking thing ever.

  I shook my body to release the tension and made my way home.

  Chapter Four

  Sage

  “So, tell me! Rahl gave you a ride home last night. Did he stay to give you another ride?”

  After we retrieved my car, Tia and I enjoyed dinner and conversation on my sofa. At least she enjoyed both. At the moment, I was enjoying only the dinner.

  “He stayed for a beer and helped me change my lightbulb,” I replied casually, praying she would end the inquisition.

  “Lightbulb? Is that code for…?” Tia angled her head with the question, then straightened to take a long sip of her second glass of wine.

  “No, it’s straight-up for ‘he lifted me over his head and I changed that’ lightbulb.” I pointed to the kitchen.

  “Girlfriend, you need to make a move! That boy needs someone and you have been makin’ a pool of drool ‘round him for six long months. Just tell him you’d like to get it on to get something off!”

  I giggled. “I’m okay offing myself for now.”

  “I did not need to know that!” Tia’s long legs stretched out on the ottoman in an effort to get more comfortable. I was still enveloped in discomfort with the conversation. Definitely wasn’t going to tell her how we almost lit up the room ourselves after the lightbulb change.

  “How about you?” I asked.

  “Well, let’s just say, Buzz had me buzzing last night and we buzzed all night long.”

  “No way!”

  Buzz, not sure he even has a last name—he’s like Sting or Bono, was the massive black security/bouncer at Two Fine. His body rivaled Rahl’s but he was probably a good three or four inches taller and a whole lot scarier than Rahl.

  Tia continued, “This morning when he dropped me off at my place, he asked me on a date. I told him no.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m young. I don’t need those kinds of ties yet. I’m good with being alone. Plus, it’s not like Buzz is known for his monogamy.”

  “True. Wish I knew if Rahl is or isn’t. He’s so closed-off and guarded.”

  “Sam and I were talking after hours awhile back. He said Rahl was in the military and did a couple long tours in the desert. His unit took some bad juju and some didn’t walk away.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  His brown puppy-dog eyes entered my mind. They always seemed to hold some hurt that I couldn’t understand but I wanted to.

  “We all reveal pain differently, Sage. You sing yours out, I screw mine away, and Rahl ogres his under his breath. I don’t know what might happen if whatever he’s holding in actually comes out.”

  My chest tightened thinking of him suffering, unable or maybe unwilling to share his pain with anyone.

  She waved the conversation off. “Just let him know you’re interested. He’s a smart guy. He won’t waste the chance to have a beautiful girl on his arm, or in his bed—his damn ripped and sexy arm and I’m guessing king-sized bed.”

  Tia could bring the conversation to a close with the vision of Rahl’s body or his bed anytime.

  ****

  Working at Sugar Plum Dreams Design was a dream come true. I loved interior design. Like, it-was-my-life’s-passion-and-I-would-do-it-until-the-day-I-died kind of love. That being said, nobody started at the finish line, and I was truly an apprentice feeling like the race would never end. I did the grunt work of multiple people and probably would for five or more years, paying my dues to make my way toward either starting my own company or being a partner in one.

  This week had been a longer marathon than normal and some days I’d sprinted my ass off. So just to exhaust myself even more, in a moment somewhere between extreme brilliance and blinding stupidity, I decided to join Run-Ride-Rock Gym, better known as Triple R to Omaha’s workout crowd. I finally made my way there today, Thursday.

  I needed an endorphin release, since I wasn’t getting any other kind of release in my life. Saturday night’s almost-kiss with Rahl still gave me goose bumps to think about. Damn. I thought for sure it was going to happen, but in that last second, before his plump lips touched mine, he let me slide down his hard body. And hard he was. His trouser snake was slithering up his stomach, and after rubbing along his impressive length, my blood stopped moving like the dangerous reptile had actually bitten me.

  I signed up for a membership at Triple R and started my workout. I liked to run, nothing marathon-length but I’d completed several 5Ks and a couple of 10Ks. I also liked doing those insane and challenging mud runs and radical warrior dashes. It was being in the elements and fighting my way through that excited me and made me feel alive. But I needed to start mixing in some weights and other cardio. My joints told me that running wasn’t going to happen forever.

  “Hey, Sage!”

  I sat up on my stability ball while doing crunches and the room spun. “Whoa, head rush.”

  Jude Saylor moved into my vision, wearing a boyish grin that vanished every coherent thought I had.

  “Hey, Jude,” I mumbled.

  “New to the gym?”

  I forced my voice box to work. “Yeah, just joined. Love it. Not the ‘roided-up crowd of other places I’ve been to before.” I rambled, unable to stop while looking into his hazel eyes. “Seems like a normal-people place. Love that there are fusion dance classes. Really been wanting to try that and also the Rock-Box class.”

  “Kickboxing is great for the core. I’d love to give you a complimentary personal training session. Show you some weight training you could add to your routine. No obligation to buy additional sessions, just one friend to another.”

  I thought about it for several seconds.

  “Maybe next week? This one has me needing some quality downtime, a little rest to recoup.”

  “No problem. Tuesday or Wednesday after work?”

  “Wednesday would be great.”

  “That’s perfect for me, too. Presley takes a drawing class Wednesday evenings.”

  “She’s an artist?”

  “Well, she’d say she’s only playing around, but she’s really talented. But so are you. You have an impressive singing voice. You should do something with it.”

  “Thanks, but paying the bills takes more than Open Mic night at Two Fine.”

  “Good point. Okay, next Wednesday. Six o’clock?”

  “Great. Thanks, Jude.”

  “Have a good workout.”

  Not sure paying for personal training was in my budget at this point, but a few sessions to get some basic knowledge might be a good idea. I saw a new member special on the board up front—ten sessions for $350. That was an excellent deal.

  I’ll see if I can sell some blood. They won’t take it anyway. According to the blood police I’m tainted for another three years.

  I headed home, sweaty but with an exercise high. After I showered, I made a frozen dinner and sat on the sofa reading a book while my
brain tried to wind down.

  My phone buzzed and I grinned at the flashing name.

  Rahl: Going to brew on Saturday at 8am.

  Sage: Hi. I’ll be there! Can I bring anything? Send me your address, please.

  Rahl: No need to bring anything, but thanks. 18122 Bristol St. See you then.

  My heart thudded against my chest, excitement and anxiety fighting inside of me.

  ****

  I slept like a puppy after a day of playing hard. When my alarm clock went off I jumped from my bed, ready to begin the day and get it over with so Saturday would get here and I could see Rahl.

  At the office, I organized for an install. I was responsible for making sure all the necessary tools were present and accounted for on the truck. There was a hammer missing. I hunted down the tool and found it lying on my coworker, Oliver’s, desk.

  “Hey, you using that or can I put it back where it belongs?” My light tone didn’t hide my displeasure.

  “Sorry, I was going to put it back.”

  Sure you were.

  “Thanks.” I tried to make the appreciation sound genuine even though the word possibly came out to the contrary. I whispered, “I have an install this afternoon and we both know how Andi can be when things don’t go smoothly.”

  He chuckled, handing over the hammer. “That woman can freak worse than my mother and she’s a certified professional freak show.”

  I smiled. “Well, need to check on the artwork at the framer’s.” I went to turn and his warm hand grabbed my wrist. I glanced down and took a step back.

  Oliver Aston was a good-looking guy, fit but not muscular like Rahl. His baby blue eyes, bright white teeth and intense white hair styled into a short Mohawk screamed heartbreaker, and the sight of him was highly effective at muting a female mouth. I assumed the strands on his head were colored that way, but it looked so natural and it highlighted his uniqueness, so I really couldn’t tell. The most colorful thing on him was the three-quarter-sleeve tattoo he had of what appeared to be something religious, but due to work dress guidelines, I’d never seen all of the design, only the bottom third when he rolled up his dress shirtsleeve before leaving. Something about fish? He’d been friendly while I learned the inner workings of Sugar Plum Dreams Design, but I also noticed how he blatantly scanned me up and down. Oliver never made any other advances, so I figured he was only an observer.

  But this is new.

  “Want to get a drink tonight?” His tenor voice lifted at the end of the question as his hand dropped away.

  “Sorry, Ollie, I have a boyfriend.” Lying wasn’t one of my better qualities, but I didn’t think it was a great quality anyway. The way Ollie’s eyes narrowed there was a good chance I wasn’t successful this time either. As visually fascinating as Ollie was—and he could make me laugh when I was having a stressful day—I wasn’t attracted to him.

  “You haven’t mentioned anyone. When did this happen?”

  “I’m a private person. Okay, I’m off to make some calls. Have a good day.” I spun out of his office and double-timed it down the hallway.

  Oliver leaned out of his cubicle. “If anything changes, I’m first up to bat, Sage.”

  I didn’t look back or acknowledge his comment.

  I don’t want your bat, or your balls.

  The day moved along and Saturday inched closer. The installation went so smoothly that Andi told me she wondered why her presence was even necessary. I kind of questioned if she wasn’t insinuating I stepped over the limits of my position, but when she showered me with a second round of praise and effusive thanks for keeping her sane, the words and sentiment were genuine.

  Feels really good.

  I got home and started dinner. I was zoning out thinking about one grumpy Ogre when my phone buzzed across the counter.

  Speaking of…

  Rahl: I forgot to tell you. Don’t wear that perfume.

  Perfume?

  Sage: What perfume?

  Rahl: The one you were wearing on last Saturday. It can mess with the flavors in the beer.

  That makes sense.

  Sage: Will do. See you tomorrow morning.

  Rahl: Goodnight.

  I spent the evening watching a marathon of chick flicks. All the good ones—Dirty Dancing, Singles, and You’ve Got Mail. Almost six hours of gushy and idealistic but entertaining and inspiring romance. Well after midnight, and after I’d fed Lassie, I shuffled my way to the bed where every movie ended up a montage of Rahl in the leading character’s place in my dreams.

  He can dance with me, drive nowhere near my neighborhood, or send me an anonymous e-mail any day.

  Chapter Five

  Rahl

  Probably not the perfume that would affect the brew, just the girl who wears the perfume. Only told her not to wear it so I wouldn’t be fighting an erection all day.

  I placed my phone on the coffee table.

  “Hey, Rahl?” A voice echoed up the entry from the downstairs door.

  “Yeah, Easton, I’m up here.”

  There was mumbling, then Easton’s bedroom door opened and closed. Footsteps sounded slowly as he walked upstairs.

  “Dude, I thought you had to work tonight.” He crossed his arms.

  “I traded Tanny back for last Saturday night. She needs the money worse than I do. Sick kids apparently cost a lot of money.”

  “Um, well, I’m gonna hang in my room … long day.” Easton shifted in his sparkly designer jeans.

  No guy should ever wear those jeans.

  “Okay. Don’t need my permission, bro.” I lifted my beer as a send-off.

  I’d known Easton since we were babies. My training in observation and body language told me more than words from his mouth. Lately, there’d been a lot he wasn’t saying.

  “Okay,” he said all stretched out as he backed away. “Have a good night.”

  “Yeah, you too.”

  I chilled in my recliner with a couple of beers watching a car race on TV. I probably should have headed to the new house and completed some work, but for some reason my life seemed spot-on here for the night.

  After midnight, I stumbled down the hall in a half-sleep stupor. It was hard to miss the raging man-pole pointing up at me when I stripped naked to hit the covers.

  I rolled over and attempted to relax, but every time I closed my eyes, only grey-green marbles filled my brain and my groin tightened. It wasn’t my usual MO to shoot my gun off in bed. I typically discharged the arsenal in the shower. But since I had to work tomorrow night, getting some sleep was a priority.

  Sliding my hand between my legs, I grasped what was now painfully aroused. The sensitivity of the tissues made me jolt as I slid my hand up and down. With eyes closed, Sage appeared, her wavy brown hair slipping over her shoulder when she sang onstage. Her slight hips swayed like a gentle Nebraska breeze. I thought about her smile and the way her whole body laughed when Tia said something that I didn’t find funny, but she sure did. The way she licked her full baby-pink lips when she was readying for a kiss, her softness pressed against me. My grip tightened. I remembered the way she whispered my name, how a pulse of desire filled each letter as her fingers dug into my neck. Sexiest damn sound I’d ever heard. I increased my speed, sensing the point of release approaching quickly as each rolling memory flashed through my brain like a photomontage. That scent she wore … soothing, yet haunting, and all female … everything I needed. She was what I needed, what I wanted.

  Sage!

  My world went black as a blinding orgasm resonated punitively but warmly through my body. I lay still and enjoyed the minute of peace that covered me. After cleaning up, I took a deep breath and a modicum of relaxation entered the nooks of my overactive brain, enough to allow me to fall asleep.

  The next morning, I rolled out of bed to move vehicles from the garage so I could have room for the brewing equipment. I’d forgotten to ask the guys to park on the street and not in the drive. I pounded on both doors and yelled through the pressed
wood for their assistance. Otherwise, I’d have them towed and I had the connections to get that done. They knew that information and there were grumbles from both guys but they made their way outside. Kirby wore respectable clothing and Easton only boxers.

  “Dude, families live in these houses.”

  He flipped me off. With his slits of eyes and crazy hair, he appeared to have gotten less sleep than I did. I’d heard the front door open early this morning.

  Have a visitor last night, bro?

  After the brewing equipment was set up, I took a long hot shower and did a repeat self-relaxation performance of last night. I guess my body really had a buildup. Or really wants someone.

  I had a lot of prep work done when a familiar undependable black car pulled in front of the townhome.

  Sage entered the garage while her graceful hand waved. “Hi, Rahl. Got started without me?”

  “Morning. Just set things up. It can take awhile to get the water to the right temp, so I got that rolling and I weighed all of the grains. I see you’re still driving that—for lack of a better term—car.”

  Sage giggled. “Yeah, I need to get to a used car lot and unload the lemon but it’s such a pain in the ass to look for a new car.”

  “Jude’s girlfriend, Presley, works at a car dealership, new and used. Why don’t I text her your information and you two can talk about what you want?”

  She raised her eyebrows and then her shoulders. “I guess that would work.”

  I typed in the message, showing Sage the finished product as her body leaned into mine. Her head bobbed a short approval before I hit send.

  “Before we start, can I get you something to drink or eat?” I asked.

  “Water? And thanks, but I made myself breakfast this morning.”

  “What did you have?” My stomach growled loudly in support of the question.

  She frowned. “Oatmeal. Apparently, you didn’t eat? Can I make you something?”

  “I didn’t invite you over to cook for me, Sage.”