by Tiffani Lynn
When we get to the apartment, I stick my head in the door to warn Marina. She’s sitting in the chair with one of my sweatshirts pulled over her giant T-shirt while eating a piece of toast.
“Mari, go put some pants on. We have company.” Surprise flashes in her eyes for a split second before she hurries out of the room. Her ponytail swishes behind her as she retreats. With no makeup on her natural beauty startles me every time. When she strolls back in, her hair is down and brushed and she’s wearing a pair of those tight-ass yoga pants designed to bring a man to his knees.
I move out of the way and finally let our guest in. “Marina, this is Marv.”
Her smile is breathtaking as she steps forward to shake his hand. She doesn’t even seem fazed that he’s rough around the edges and smells like a garbage can. When she gets a look at his face she asks. “Oh my God! What happened to you?”
“Looks like the same thing that happened to you.” He chuckles a little. She touches her face self-consciously before responding, “I doubt you became a stunt double and dove out of a car and rolled down a ridiculous hill in the dark.” Her eyes twinkle.
How can either one of them make a joke about this stuff?
His laugh is hearty. “Nah, just a punching bag for some freaky kid.”
She lifts an eyebrow. “Come in. I’ll fix you some coffee. Dex, you want some?”
Why does it piss me off so bad when she calls me Dex? I lean down to whisper in her ear, “Jase, it’s Jase to you.” I pull back to stare at her to make a point.
“Fine. Jase, do you want some coffee?”
“Nah, I’ll get it at the station. Put his in a travel mug. They’re on the second shelf in that first set of cabinets. We need to go so he can give his statement and I have to get to work.”
Marv grumbles as I close the door to my room and prepare for work.
Their laughter is loud considering they look like they had a cage match against each other. What in the hell do they find so funny? You’d think at a time like this they’d be more subdued.
“What are you two doing out here?” I mumble as I reach for a cup to get some water after joining them.
“Nothing really, sharing war stories about life on the street,” Marv says. “Can’t believe a pretty girl like her lived on the street.” He smiles at her and winks, making her giggle.
“We need to get going, man.” The thought of her living on the street pisses me off and I don’t want either of them to sense the irritation in me in case they misconstrue it.
Marina doesn’t say much to me but she’s watching me cautiously and I’m not sure why. I thought we ironed some things out last night.
“Marina, can I see you in the bedroom for a second?”
She nods and follows me.
I close the door behind her, move in close and she cranes her neck back to look up at me. My arm slides around her tiny waist, turning her toward me as gently as I can. I kiss her forehead before I ask, “What’s going on with you this morning? You’re all fun and games with Marv and then tiptoeing around me like you’re afraid I’ll go off at any second.”
Her green eyes assess me for a moment, seeming to take in everything about my face. What’s she thinking?
“When I woke up to an empty apartment I thought you’d hauled butt after our conversation last night.” Shrugging, she glances away.
“Mari,” I push the chunk of pink-streaked hair behind her ear so I can see her whole face. “The station called me in the middle of the night because Marv was hurt and gave them my name. You were sleeping soundly so I didn’t want to wake you because I knew you wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep if you knew you were alone. You need rest to heal. I knew I’d be back before work and figured I’d see you then.”
“You realize being ditched is a serious fear I have? Right?”
“I knew you didn’t like being alone, but I didn’t get being left was part of that. I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to upset you. I thought after our conversation last night you’d be okay.”
“You mean the one where I told you to sleep on it and we’d talk today? Because when I woke up and you were gone, I figured it meant you changed your mind.”
“Mari, we have a lot to talk about, but I have to go to work now. However, I didn’t change my mind. I still want you.” My lips brush against hers and her eyes stay closed like she’s savoring the kiss as I pull away. “Tonight I want to take you to dinner so we can talk. I don’t care where we go. Pick a place. I’ll come home from work, shower and change, and then we’ll eat and talk. Today, please rest, you need it. I have a house phone over in the corner on the end of the table, if you didn’t notice it before; you can call whomever you want. I left my number on the counter, call if you need me. Don’t open the door for anyone, please.”
My day flies by. After Marv gives his statement and sits with a sketch artist for what was probably the longest hour of the poor artist’s life, I take him back to his spot on the street. I agree to leave him there but only after an argument. I thought he should come to my place for a few days and take the time to recover. That didn’t go over well.
When I arrive home, Mari is ready and lying on the couch. As she stands to greet me, I cringe involuntarily. What in the hell is she wearing? A short jean skirt sits snug around her hips and is short enough that her ass cheeks are practically hanging out. A tight T-shirt that says Led Zeppelin and leaves nothing to the imagination covers her chest, and to top it all off she’s wearing her combat boots. My question must be obvious because she makes a face and says, “This was the best I could do. I’m rolling around in Goodwill clothes these days, remember?”
“Mari. Grown women don’t dress like concert-going teenagers.”
Her switch flips from sad to angry in half a heartbeat and she props her hands on her hips. “Dex, you’re such an asshole sometimes. If you don’t like me being me why are we even having this dinner together? Sure, if I had my clothes from before the break-in I could look a little better, but this is me, big guy. You’ll never see me in some conservative sweater set from an uptown boutique. It’s not my thing. I guess while you’re in the shower you need to decide if you want me or the person you wish I was. I’ll be here when you decide.” She stomps back to the couch and lies back down.
I should be pissed at the attitude she threw at me for being honest, but instead I feel bad. I didn’t mean it the way it came out. I don’t really care what she wears as long as all of her important parts are covered. Although I love to look at the body beneath the clothes, I don’t want to share that view with anyone else. If she bends over in that skirt, everyone will get a view they won’t forget. She’s also correct in her thought process. From what I’ve seen of her prior to this, even before her stuff was stolen, she walks on the wild side when it comes to how she looks. I either need to accept that or walk away now because there is no way she’s going to change.
Even though I’m irritated at the whole confrontation, I like this side of her personality. I’ve always been attracted to strong women and this is the first glimpse I’ve gotten of that side of her. The rest of the time it seems she lets people push her around and drag her into things she may not want but doesn’t back away from either.
The question I need to answer for myself is, can I be her man and take her as she is? Beautiful doesn’t begin to cover the description of Marina. From her appearance, you’d think she’s a wild child. She’s not into drinking, drugs and partying, but she is into self-expression so I think artistic is the better term. Marina is exotic, beautiful and unique. Can I handle a woman like that? It’s never been a certainty that I can handle a woman at all. My need for solitary moments has always suggested I’ll do better with short-term situations and lack of attachment. I’ve never found a woman who would willingly give me the space I need to find peace. Evidence suggests that Mari wouldn’t be capable of giving me the space and definitely not the quiet. The woman can talk.
Draping my towel over the rack, I turn and face
the mirror. My eyes zero in on the first tat I ever got. Stu hounded me for weeks until I agreed. He had several by that time, but my first one was across the upper portion of my chest. It was original artwork Stu created while we were deployed the first time and it hurt like a bitch. There wasn’t anything at that point in my life that held any meaning so I decided to use his design. Over the years I’ve added to it with more on my chest and all over my arms. However, it’s all stuff that stays hidden from the public eye unless my shirt comes off, which it never does because of the burns. From this angle, I can’t see them. They mar my back with twisted, ugly skin that appears rough but feels more like leather than anything. I don’t look at them often but I know they are there, my constant reminder of how I lost Stu. God, I miss him.
It’s funny that I stand here thinking of Stu since he’s the one who used to ride me like a freaking bus about finding a woman and settling down. He wanted that for me. The other married guys in my company always had a million questions about what it was like getting strange pussy all the time. They were fascinated since they’d all been getting the same for years. But not Stu, he always told me that a good woman, a loyal woman, would be worth coming home to, worth sinking my dick into the same pussy every night, worth every fight and every tear, every smile and every penny.
I always thought he was crazy, until recently when I started to think about Mari every second of every day. It’s totally messed up that I yearn at times to hear her loud-ass laugh or see that damn nose piercing sparkle when she smiles in the right light. And let’s not even mention the overwhelming need I have to protect her. I’ve never felt anything stronger in my life. We’re so different though. I hide my differences from the world while all of hers are on display. Some of it though is what turns me on to her. I guess it’s time to clarify a few things with her.
When I slip into the driver’s seat of my car, I turn to her and ask, “Where are we going?”
She glances back from looking out the window and says, “I’d just like a pizza. There’s a place at the mall that serves it by the slice. Angling her head to look back out the window, she returns to her quiet state and I sit, confused.
“Why the hell would we eat pizza by the slice at the mall?”
“I’m obviously not dressed to go out anywhere else. I’m okay with that. If it’s not what you want, I can order a pizza there and you can go grab something else.”
My chest squeezes tight as I register the quiet, dead tone of her voice. It’s so unlike her.
“Mari. We aren’t going to the damn mall.”
“Dex…never mind. I’ll see you when you come home.” Before I can respond, her door is open and she’s out of the car, closing the door quicker than I can even yell her name. What the hell!
Jumping out of the car I follow her. It only takes me a few steps to reach her since she still isn’t moving comfortably yet and my legs are so much longer than hers. I grip her shoulder to get her attention, knowing I can’t grab her and pin her against a wall like I want to.
“What?” she yells as she spins back around, and as soon as I see her eyes, I understand the hurt she’s feeling and I’m gutted because I know it’s my fault.
“Mari, why are you going back inside?” I’m finally thankful she can’t keep quiet or keep a thought to herself.
“I feel like driving somewhere for dinner with you is like walking to the executioner willingly. The way you looked at me when you saw me tonight tells me all I need to know. I don’t need to go to dinner to have you tell me you know it’s not going to work. I knew that already, though I’m dumb enough to keep coming back for more. But damn it, Dex! Stop putting me in a position to make the wrong choice. It’s not fair to me. I’ll always fall for the sweet that comes in the dead of night when you don’t have to see who you’re screwing. I’ll always be wild and unconventional and you’ll always be straight-laced and controlled.”
“Mari, that’s not what’s going on.”
“Yeah, it is. You don’t want to admit it because you know I need saving, which is your forte. You’re also lonely for some female attention and I’m right under your nose, but it’s not me you want. Not even close. I never want my man to look at me like I’m the dirt on his shoe when I spent time tricking myself out to spend an evening with him. If you don’t look at me like I’m the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen and feel it deep in your bones then I’m not the one for you.”
“Mari—”
Holding up a hand to stop me, she continues, “Different choices. That’s what everyone keeps saying to me. I’m listening but it’s more than that for me. I want so much more for you. I want you to have everything you deserve. I know where you came from, what and whom you came from and I want a better life for you. I want you to have the whole package. You deserve to have the most beautiful woman in the room, the one you don’t have to re-dress before you leave the house. Just leave it alone, Dex. Get something to eat without me and leave it alone.”
She doesn’t give me a chance to talk, she turns on her heel to walk away and anger explodes like fireworks in my head. “Mari!” I yell and the echo is so loud as it bounces off the apartment buildings that surround us, that she pauses and turns to me with wide eyes. Stomping up to her, I lean down and smash my mouth to hers as my right hand snakes behind her neck to hold her where I need her to be. I can’t grab anything else for fear of hitting bruises. I want her attention but I don’t want to hurt her.
“Mari,” I gasp, pulling away. “Shut up for once. Stop the mother-fucking chatter and let me talk!” Her eyes flutter open and she studies me, wide-eyed and quiet. “Mari, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I knew it when we were teenagers and I knew it when I saw you in the parking lot on your knees. My point about the teenager clothes—about your look in general—is that you don’t need to hide behind the layers of makeup, the piercings, the crazy-colored hair. You don’t need to wear clothes that barely fit or look like they belong on a teenager because you are a gorgeous, grown woman. If you’d let yourself really be you, you’re perfect. Do I love the tattoos and piercings? Some of them I do. Do I love the makeup? No, but not because it’s ugly. Because it covers up you.”
I stroke my finger along her jaw and continue, “Most of the women I’ve seen over the years needed to put on layers of makeup because what I woke up with in the morning wasn’t as pretty. That’s not true with you. I want the Mari that’s buried, the one you hide with constant talk and layers of stuff. Can I live with you in a short skirt and combat boots? Yes, if it’s the only way I get to have you. But the first man that looks at your ass practically hanging out the bottom of one of your skirts is likely to get a beatdown. I don’t want date night with my woman to end in a fight. I want you to save some of those things for my eyes only.”
“But you said—” she begins to protest and I kiss her again, this time threading my fingers into both sides of her hair and holding her to me as I slip my tongue inside her mouth and tease her with it. God, I love the way she kisses.
When I feel her relax I pull away. “I’m shit at relationships because I’ve never really had any. I’ve avoided them my whole adult life. Too messy, too many emotions and I’m terrible about anything being out of alignment, especially life. I’m an orderly guy and love never is. My communication skills suck and sometimes I say shit that comes out wrong. Marina, give me a chance. Please. Go to dinner with me, let’s talk and try to figure out how to make this work. I want to be with you because you’re you, not because you’re right under my nose.” I kiss her forehead and her nose and her lips softly one last time. “Please?”
Chapter Twelve
Marina
Oh. My. God! Did he really say all of that? I’m probably being an idiot by going. In my gut I know this is a bad idea, but strong stoic Jase has laid it out for me in such a beautiful way that I can’t ignore it. Nodding, I meet his penetrating gaze. “Yeah, Jase, I’ll go.” When I use the name Jase instead of Dex his eyes close and his
lips meet mine again, so much softer and sweeter than before.
When he breaks contact, I step into him and wrap my arms around him, holding him as tight as my sore body will allow. He smells and feels so good, different than the boy from all those years ago, but somehow the same. “Take me to dinner, I’m hungry.” The man rarely smiles but when he does—dear God help us all!
At a little mom-and-pop Italian restaurant not far from his place, we sit in a small booth towards the back. The murmur of conversation fills the quiet air around us and the scent of garlic and olive oil has my stomach rumbling. Candlelight from the votive on the table dances along the features of his face.
When his expression shifts from relaxed and content back to serious, I pick at the rolled silverware in front of me.
“Mari, I was serious when I said I want to be with you. You protest about being able to change but I know that if you said no to some things you wouldn’t end up in half the predicaments you do. I’m not asking you to change who you are but I need you to think hard before you make decisions. What you do will reflect on me. If you ended up on your knees in a parking lot and we were dating, that wouldn’t go well for either one of us.”
“I get what you’re saying, Jase, and I’ll do my best. You just can’t expect miracles because, seriously, there are some things I can’t control, like the kidnapping and the stolen stuff.”
“All I ask is that you try to limit the things that you know could lead to a poor outcome.”
The rest of dinner we have lighter conversation and as he opens up and talks a little more, I can’t help but watch his lips move and think about how nice they feel against my own. His touch is tender as he holds my hand across the table and strokes his thumb over my knuckles. Although I’m excited about the possibility of us, I’m equally terrified of this not working.
Jase pays the bill and I smile as he helps me to my feet by taking my hand. When we get back to his place, after we take off our shoes and socks, he guides us straight to his room. Pausing us beside the bed, he pushes my hair over my ear, his eyes never leaving mine. “There are a million things I want to do to you tonight, but I don’t want to hurt you and I probably would without meaning to. However, I still want to feel you against me so my plan is to peel these clothes off and hold you skin to skin while we sleep.”
