Cavanagh - Serenity Series, Vol I (Seeking Serenity)

by Eden Butler

  The soap on the built-in shelf is white, barely more than a sliver and when Mollie grabs it and inhales, it smells like Vaughn, his musky, masculine scent that always leaves her mouthwatering. He was in here this morning, his large body naked, his massive back touching the same warm stones. The thought has Mollie trembling, despite the heat of the water. He kissed her this morning though when she first saw him after she woke, she’d been certain that he was keeping to his “no touch, I made a promise” policy. But then, he saw her sitting on that massive bed, hair fanning out in all directions, and the at-a-arm’s-length Marine did not make an appearance. He climbed onto the bed, held her, and pulled her onto his lap, cradling her head under his chin. Mollie loved the sensation of being so close to him, listening to the slow rhythm of his heartbeat as she rested against his chest.

  “I’m so glad you’re okay,” he’d told her, arms tightening when she rubbed her cheek up his chest. “I was so scared, seeing you like that…”

  Mollie knew Vaughn had seen horrors, had experienced his own nightmares made real when he returned to the States and so she did not want him thinking of her battered and broken in that car. She’d distracted him by pulling his shirt to the side and examining his wound.

  “Layla said it was a graze?”

  “It’s fine. I’ve had worse.” He’d been trying for strength, to diminish his own injuries and focus on Mollie. The self-sacrificing behavior is the one thing about him that Mollie respected and hated equally.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re okay too.”

  And then, Vaughn ran from the promises he made, skating from the things he thought were right and sensible and kissed Mollie. He hadn’t demanded, had been very gentle, but Mollie had missed the texture of his lips, the way they were both rough and smooth at the same time. She’d missed his hands holding her head as his mouth worked over her and so, she’d tugged on his collar, poured into that kiss everything she couldn’t admit to him. With the swipe of her tongue she said “I’m sorry” and “I need you” and “You can’t push me away.” He responded, became as worked up by that small gesture as she had and when they fell back onto the bed, when Vaughn’s hands left her neck and tugged onto her hip, Mollie thought she’d die from relief.

  “Shit.” Vaughn had pulled back, fingers tugging on her shirt as though he was trying to restrain himself. “Your friends are out there and I’m supposed to be manning the grill.”

  “Ribs?” Until he mentioned food, Mollie didn’t realize how hungry she was.

  “Naturally.” He’d sat them up, holding her close to him. “Can we pick this back up after dinner?”

  “We better.”

  They hadn’t talked about what happened before the wreck or Vaughn’s instant jealousy over Ryan’s invitation, but Mollie figures that isn’t important. Not now. Not when she knows what to expect tonight. Smiling, she replaces Vaughn’s soap on the shelf and reaches for the body wash with the delicate flower on the label before she lathers up.

  The heat and steam from the bathroom escapes through the door when Mollie opens it and the shift in temperature has her a bit light headed. Her legs wobble and she reaches for the desk next to the door, then smiles when a pair of wide arms circle her waist.

  “Woah. I’ve got you.”

  She pats Vaughn once and he releases her, follows her to the bed. “Maybe a little too much wine.” Mollie’s shoulders are a bunched mess and when she stretches them, wincing at the sharp ache through the top of her back, Vaughn points to the floor, before he sits behind her. “You don’t have to do that.” But she is already lowering to the floor with Vaughn’s thick legs on either side of her.

  “I know I don’t, but please. I am the king of ‘Oh God’ massages.”

  She looks up, smiling at him. “Confident are we—shit,” she continues when Vaughn begins rubbing away her knots. “I concede. God, you are the king.” Her head lolls forward, and Mollie can’t help the release a soft, low moan. Vaughn’s hands are a miracle, just strong enough that the touch flirts toward pain, soothing enough that the knots in her muscles vanish under his thumbs.

  “Like that?”

  “I like everything you do to me, Semper Fi.” She smiles at his laugh and his attentions on her shoulders double.

  “Take your hair down.”

  Mollie releases the bun, shifts her fingers through her hair and places the elastic band on the bedside table as Vaughn massages her scalp. “Shit, this is heaven.” The flowers in the vase are still bright and fragrant and Mollie stares at them, taking in the delicate petals and soft texture on the surface. “That was you?” she asks Vaughn, nodding toward the vase.

  His fingers on her scalp continue working. “You were dreaming. You were telling your dad to pick the white ones.”

  Mollie thinks she should be embarrassed that she was talking in her sleep, but if those small murmurs about something she loved in childhood fetched magnolias, then she didn’t really care about being embarrassed. “They’re my favorite.”

  “I’ll have to remember that.” Vaughn pats her shoulder, effectively ending the massage and he places a soft kiss on the top of her head before he gets up to help her off the floor.

  Mollie wants to kiss him, to hold him tight but she hesitates, not sure if Vaughn meant what he said earlier about picking things up after dinner. Instead, she climbs onto the large mattress with him watching her, waiting for an invitation, she supposes. “Where are you sleeping?”

  He sits on her bed, scoots toward her until she is forced to lean back with him climbing over her. “Wherever you want me.”

  “What about your promises?”

  “Fuck my promises.” And then, Vaughn doesn’t need an invitation. He is kissing her, touching her, moving between her legs until Mollie can feel him hard against her, until she is panting and pulling his shirt over his head.

  She lifts her hips as Vaughn slides her shorts down her legs. He touches her, prepares her, but she is ready, wet and warm, without barely a few strokes. “Me dinging my noggin changed your mind?”

  It was meant as a joke, something benign to distract her from how hot the room has become, from how desperate this man makes her. But then Vaughn stops, inches away from filling her and he looks down, expression hard, serious. “Yes.”

  “Oh.” Mollie takes his kiss, the feel of his lips over her bruised eyes, across the gash on her forehead, loves the way his tongue and his dick slip right into her at the same time. He is so full, so thick that her legs move apart, her hips sinking into the mattress to take all of him.

  Vaughn is over her, moving inside her, but his arms are firm, straight, as his hips work and the stare he levels at her, makes it impossible to focus on little else save the low cast of his eyes and the soften features on his face. But she feels him in her, loves the way he pushes in deep and the slow, methodical pump of his hips. “I thought I’d failed you,” he whispers, stilling to rest against her. His next kiss is deep, wet and takes Mollie’s breath away. “I thought I couldn’t protect you.”

  “This wasn’t your fault. None of this.” Those low lit eyes come right to hers when she cups his face between her hands. “And you’re protecting me now. Better yet, you’re protecting the people I love most in the world. You don’t know how much that means to me.”

  Another pump of his hips and Vaughn shudders, moans when Mollie clenches around him. “I think I’m in trouble.”

  “Why?”

  He stills, leaning up on one elbow. “Because I almost knocked that detective out when he offered to take you for a drink.” She laughs. “It’s not funny. I’ve never been like this over a woman.” Vaughn buries his face between her breast and groans, frustrated before he looks back up at her. “I’m a little out of my element here so if I act like a prick, you gotta tell me.”

  “I think I can handle that.”

  And then he tests the limits of what she can handle, picking up speed, clamping down on her hips, moving her leg up for better traction.

  “
Do me a favor, Semper Fi?”

  Breathing hard, Vaughn groans again, slowing his movements. “Mollie, you are naked and wrapped around me. I think if you asked me to run through Cavanagh in nothing but my boots and dog tags, I’d break my neck to do it for you.”

  “Not necessary, but thanks.” She hesitates, hopes that her voice is strong enough, expresses her fear without scaring him. “Just don’t get jumpy. Don’t try to do the right thing and push me away again. I… I don’t know if I could handle watching you walk away again.”

  “You won’t have to.” Vaughn’s body is slick against hers, his thick thighs heavy as he moves deeper, but Mollie feels the full weight of him inside her and the slow, lingering kiss he gives her. “I’m here. You just don’t get it. Seeing you hurt, seeing your blood and not knowing if you’d…” He shakes his head, blinking quick. “It brought back a lot of things, things I’ll tell you about one day, when I can.” He moves the hair off her face. “I couldn’t handle seeing that again, knowing that I couldn’t stop you from being hurt. It would kill me.”

  She wants to tell him that she understands, that she’s seen enough violence herself for a lifetime—it’s something sad they have in common. But the moment is not right and Mollie doesn’t want to do anything now but reassure him. “Then let’s makes sure it doesn’t happen again.”

  Vaughn smiles, and it is a genuine expression full of hope, of confidence that makes Mollie’s heart swell. “Ooh Rah.” And then he finishes the business at hand.

  FOURTEEN

  The fire on Dunlap Street diverts traffic for four blocks and has pulled every conceivable police cruiser off the roads. The street, in fact, has very little in the way of traffic. As Vaughn drives through Cavanagh, Mollie at his side with her hand resting on his thigh, his gaze fishes around the empty streets, the sidewalks, with only a few stragglers heading in the direction of the blaze.

  “It’s weird, no one being out.” Mollie rolls down the passenger side window, sticking her head out toward Dunlap as they pass. “It’s the old cathedral.” She moves back into the car, pulling her hair out of her face. “Damn. I loved that church.” Again she looks behind them as they head away from the fire. “Oldest one in town.”

  Vaughn lays his hand on her knees, gives it a squeeze. “Sorry, sugar.”

  “I just don’t get how something like that happens in Cavanagh. Everyone is almost anal about keeping things safe and clean. Hell, we’ve got a street beautification group that never has anything to do because townsfolk are always picking up after themselves.”

  “Probably faulty wiring.” Again Vaughn squeezes Mollie’s knee. “You said it was an old building.”

  “Yeah, but the city put in new wiring and a sprinkler system five years ago.” She looks at Vaughn, her eyebrows knitted together. “We keep after our places here, Vaughn. It’s important to everyone.”

  He likes her passion. It is something he’s noticed more than once. Mollie is fierce in her loyalties, about her friends and family and the way she holds this small town in her heart, the genuine upset she feels at things here being disturbed, only made Vaughn like her more. “You’re something else.”

  She pushes his hand off her knee, but there is smile working over her mouth. “Don’t be an ass. I’m seriously upset.”

  “I know you are. I like that you’re upset over an old church fire.” Vaughn shifts the gear, coming to a stoplight just near the police precinct. “I like how much you love this place.”

  He thinks her blush is pretty, that her eyes shine brighter when he pays her a compliment. Mollie seems to sense his pleasure, the way he smiles wider the redder her face gets. “Anyway, is Viv meeting us at the precinct? “

  Vaughn clicks on his turn signal, waiting for the light to change before he heads into the parking garage. “I didn’t talk to her. Emily called, said that the cops have someone in custody.” He glances at her, giving her a wink. “You’ll get to see your boyfriend Jimmy again.”

  “Shut up.” Vaughn’s mock hurt at the way he feigns an injury has Mollie’s laughter filling the cab. “I still can’t believe it’s the same guy.” She wrestles with her seatbelt when Vaughn slides into a parking spot near the elevators.

  “How would you?” He leans toward her, releasing the latch on the seatbelt that’s giving her trouble, but he doesn’t back away, lingers so their faces are close together. “Beautiful women like you should be used to flirty assholes.”

  Vaughn inches closer, loving the smell of her airy breath as Mollie cocks her eyebrow. “And what are you? You a flirty asshole too?”

  “Around you, yes.” He kisses her, takes a small nibble on her bottom lip and then backs away, realizing what he just said. “Well, I don’t think I’m an asshole. Maybe a dumbass about you, but not an asshole.”

  “Aw,” she says, pinching his cheek like he’s five. “My sweet little dumbass.”

  “Absolutely.” He moves in again, means to deepen the kiss he’d just given her, but Mollie blocks his approach with her fingers over his mouth.

  “Simmer down, Semper Fi. We’ve got a bad guy to finger.”

  Vaughn’s laugh is loud and Mollie’s eyebrows disappear behind her bangs when she realizes what she just said. He returns her cheek pinch. “Later. I promise.”

  Mollie’s hand is small; there is a faint scar just above her pinky on her right hand and he likes how she lets him hold it, how she isn’t one of those women who doesn’t like public displays of affection. He pulls her close as they walk toward the elevator, his arm stretched out over her shoulder, her hand at his waist just below the gun tucked in the waistband. He is thinking about her smile, how it’s something he’s always loved about her, how since their stay in the mountains, it hasn’t faltered once.

  When they reach the elevator, push the button, Vaughn leans down, unable to keep his lips from hers for more than a few seconds and he pulls back, eager to see that smile again, but she looks over his shoulder, eyes rounding, and opens her mouth to yell, to warn him. He jerks around quickly, staring at Jimmy, moving fast, swinging his hand back to knock it across Vaughn’s face.

  “No!” he hears Mollie scream. She angles back, hands outstretched and Vaughn moves, head swimming a bit by Jimmy’s slap.

  “Mollie… shit!” Vaughn shakes his head, dizzy. Jimmy jumps, and he and Vaughn become a tussle of limbs and movements—fists flying, knees coming up to strike. Vaughn is larger, his reach wider, but Jimmy is quick, a wiry son of a bitch who fights dirty. Behind him, Vaughn hears Mollie’s small cries and prays she will stay out of the fray.

  Jimmy lands an upper cut to Vaughn’s jaw when his mind is distracted by Mollie, by keeping her away from the fight, and then the bastard lands an elbow right into Vaughn’s still healing shoulder.

  “Fuck,” he cries, cradling his injury.

  There is a click, the echo of a gun going off and both Vaughn and Jimmy are stilled by Mollie over them, gun lowering from the direction of the ceiling where she squeezed off her warning shot, to point right at Jimmy’s chest.

  “You don’t wanna do that, darlin’.” The man approaches, and Vaughn suppresses his pain, fear fueling him and he is on his feet, slowly moving toward Mollie. Jimmy in no longer concerned by Vaughn, his eyes are glaring at Mollie’s gun, hands up but even Vaughn can tell this guy isn’t threatened by Mollie hoisting his .45 at Jimmy. “That’s a big piece for someone so little.”

  “Fuck you, asshole, I know how to use it. How the hell did you get out of custody?” Mollie keeps Jimmy in her sights, gun still on him as she moves slowly toward Vaughn.

  “Never was in custody, darlin’.” There is a large knot forming on Jimmy’s cheek, a red and pulsing thing that Vaughn had given him. Vaughn thinks he hears something behind him, but he trains his attention to Mollie, to reaching for her as they move closer toward each other. The noise, the distraction all vanishes from his thoughts when Vaughn feels the quick thud against the back of his head and he is falling, face connecting with the cement floor
.

  In the distance, he hears the clang of a pipe and then the rustle of feet as a small figure runs from them, distraction accomplished as Jimmy lunges for Mollie, wrestles her for the gun. Vaughn’s head feels like it’s in a vice, throbbing, splintering, it seems and then Mollie screams—the sound akin to rage, fury.

  And then, the gun fires.

  “Mollie!” Vaughn manages to make it to the wall and slide up it, steadying himself against the white brick. His heart pounds in his throat and as he struggles to walk, like a drunken sailor caught on a high-sea hurricane, Vaughn’s quick pulse only thunders harder. “Mollie. Shit!” Then he hits his knees the pain in his head crippling him.

  Mollie stumbles, wrenches back when Jimmy reaches for her and Vaughn sees the blood seeping through the guy’s shirt, just above his wrist. Still, the asshole won’t back down, but then, neither will Mollie and Vaughn’s heartbeat pounds in his chest when they fight over the gun again. Mollie lands on her ass when Jimmy overpowers her and she immediately crawls back, hands moving like a crab, heading toward Vaughn.

  Above them Jimmy lifts the .45, and points it straight at Mollie’s head. “No,” Vaughn shouts, pulling all his energy into staggering in front of Mollie, shielding her from Jimmy’s aim.

  “Hey!” Vaughn can see a man, just in the corner of the building, near the elevators. Vaughn’s body is too weighted, too cumbersome to lift more than an inch from the ground. But he sees that Jimmy’s attention is distracted, that he swings his hand around and redirects the aim of the gun. “Take it easy, man,” the faceless man says. “You don’t wanna do this.”

  Jimmy’s smile isn’t kind, that much Vaughn can tell. He’d seen expressions like this before, from suicide bombers and insurgents who thought it was an honor to die for their beliefs, who wanted to take as many Americans with them as possible. Jimmy wears that same expression when he looks at the faceless man. “Yeah. I so do.” And with the echo of the gunshot and Mollie’s loud scream bouncing around the parking garage, the faceless man falls to the ground.