by T. I. Lowe
Snapping out of my stupor, I lunge for the door and unlock it. Beck rushes in just as a lightning bolt makes contact with a buoy offshore, sending sparks splintering over the turbulent water.
“You’re soaked, Beck!” I move so he can get past me.
“Because you wouldn’t open the doggone door,” he says through clenched teeth, looking downright menacing. “Why were you drunk at five in the morning?”
“Why show up this late? To cast more judgement on me? You wait until dark so no one would see you coming over to the drunk weirdo’s house?”
“I’ve had back to back training sessions today or I’d been here earlier. Almost cancelled them…” Beck shakes his head. “I’ve done nothing but worry about you all day.”
“I’m fine. No worries.”
“Drunk at five in the morning is not fine.”
“I was up all night writing…” My heart kicks up its pace from feeling ashamed all of a sudden.
“Is drinking some creative vice you use for your writing?” His voice is filled with that drill sergeant tone, demanding the truth.
So I give it to him. “No. It’s the vice I use to combat loneliness.” My arms cross as I feel the tears begin to gather in my eyes. I pinch the back of my arm to work up some anger to fight the pity collecting in chest.
“Harper, you don’t have to be lonely.” The harshness of his gaze softens as Beck takes a step closer.
I scoff. “Says the man who kissed me last Thursday and has been radio-silent ever since.”
“I had to report for duty this weekend in Fort Jackson. Trust me, I’d much rather been here kissing you than training a bunch of whiny recruits.”
“Whatever.”
Beck lets out a heavy huff and bends to meet my eyes. “Would you stop hiding behind that wall of sass and attitude for once and really listen to me? Ever since I’ve met you, you’re all I see. Your sharp wit, your spunk, your thoughtful expressions when you watch people. You think you’re hiding successfully, sometimes angling behind Nadine. Know this, Harper Blume, you’re all I see.”
My eyes drop to the floor and notice a puddle forming around his feet when another flash of lightning ricochets around the room, so I hurry to my bathroom to retrieve a towel. The squeaks of his shoes follow close behind me as the rumbling of thunder shakes the earth.
“Is the power out?”
“No.” As I pull the towel from the linen closet the light comes on, nearly blinding me. Shielding my eyes with the towel, I mutter, “Too bright.”
“Are you still drunk?” He pushes my hands down and inspects me.
“No.” I blink a few times to adjust to the sensory overload. And I’m not talking about the light. Beck McCaffery dripping wet with that scowl on his face is the most sensuous sight I have ever seen. Clearing my throat, I whisper, “Take your shirt off.”
With his turquoise eyes trained on me, Beck reaches a hand back and whips the shirt off in one fluid motion. He tosses it in the sink and takes a step forward.
Silence blankets us with only a rumble of thunder interrupting it every so often as I mop the towel along his broad chest and then down over the well-defined plains of his torso. He bends forward, grasping my hips for support while I drag the towel through his hair.
“Turn around,” I manage to croak out.
He actually listens, so I continue to dry him off. As the towel treks along the phoenix on his shoulder, the jagged surface of his skin underneath the ink catches my attention. Dropping the cloth, my fingers reach out and test the texture. “Beck…”
His hand reaches over his shoulder and comes to a rest on top of mine, pressing it into the camouflaged scars. “Roadside bomb, but I survived it. It’s just another part of me that makes me who I am.” He sounds so indifferent about it, but that scar had to have come from a nightmare full of pain and suffering.
The most natural need washes over me, so I act on it without thought and press my lips to the phoenix. Our hands move aside to allow me free reign of the scar. By the time I’ve kissed every jagged inch of the scar, I’m trembling with some foreign emotion.
My lips move to the valley between his shoulder blades as I inhale the clean scent of his skin. I lean my forehead there and watch my fingers coast along the taut muscles along his back.
Beck remains statuesque, allowing my exploration. The only movement is the pronounced rise and fall caused by his heavy breathing.
“I’ve never seen a man’s body before,” I confess while my hands come to a rest on his hips.
Beck slowly turns and looks down at me. His eyes are considerate instead of judging. “Never?”
I shrug. “Only in pictures.”
“So you’ve never been with a man?”
My head offers a timid shake. Who knows why I’ve decided to admit this to Beck, but beyond my understanding I have no desire to lie to him.
A groan rumbles from the back of his throat as his eyes grow heated. “You have no idea how appealing that is.”
My cheeks heat up. Wanting to run from the awkwardness, I hurry to the closet and fish out a pair of Jack’s jogging pants from the stash of clothing he keeps here.
“These okay?” I hold the pants out, but Beck hesitates with accepting them.
“You just happen to have men’s jogging pants on hand?”
“Jack keeps some here. You know, in case of an emergency.” I keep to myself that Jack sometimes crashes here. It’s none of Beck’s business anyway.
He considers this before nodding his head slowly, causing the drying locks of his inky hair to fall over his forehead.
I step a little closer with my hand reaching out to brush it back, but freeze from the trepidation overwhelming me. Before I can chicken out and make a run for it, Beck captures my wrist.
“It’s okay, Harper.” He brings my fingers to his mouth and presses them to his lips as he toes off his shoes.
Beck leans down and removes the soaked jeans but keeps his boxers on. Before he can step into the jogging pants, I kneel and inspect the scar marring the skin beside his left kneecap.
“What happened?” I ask as my fingers skate across it.
“Humvee caught fire during a motorcade attack. Took me a while to get one of my men out of the back, so my knee got cooked.” His words come out in a raspy whisper.
Another booboo I wish nothing more than to kiss back to better. My lips replace my fingers and slowly caress the blemished skin. A vicious clap of thunder seems to be rushing me, but I refuse to listen. I am so drawn to this man, it frightens me.
After I have given the scar on his leg proper attention, I squeeze my eyes shut and slowly stand. I hear him wrestle with pulling up the pants, but don’t dare peek.
“Open your eyes, Harper,” Beck says quietly after a few minutes pass.
I do and find him gazing down at me. He reaches out and pulls me close as he claims my lips in a searing kiss. We kiss until it becomes unbearable.
“Beck…” I huff out against his lips.
“I know.” His hands drop as he takes a step back. After a few deep inhales, he says, “It’s time for bed.”
I’m about to walk him out when Beck sweeps me off my feet and carries me toward the den.
“It’s only eight,” I comment after glimpsing the time on the alarm clock.
“Yes, but you need a good night’s sleep.” He settles into the thickly cushioned rocking chair and cradles me close to his bare chest. “You make me tired just looking at you.” He traces underneath my eyes with the tip of his finger.
Tears tickle the back of my throat. “I am tired,” I whisper after coughing them away. “Tired of a lot of things.”
Tired of the loneliness. The dark holes whittling away at my insides. The not knowing how to belong in this world…
“Well, let’s start with some sleep and then we can figure out how to handle the rest. Okay?”
I want to know why Beck would even want to be around a loser like me, and why he’s not thumping me
over the head with his Bible for the drunken stunt I pulled today. I ask instead, “Why are you doing this?”
“To show you you’re not alone.”
I sit up and try untangling myself from him, but his arms lock down and end the attempted escape. Wiggling, I mutter, “I don’t want your pity.”
“Good, because you’re not getting it. Hard as it may seem, I like you. And for reasons I don’t even understand, I enjoy your sassy mouth.”
His statement makes me want to sass some more, but I tamp it down and settle back against his warm chest. “Fine, but you can stay only until it stops raining. Then you gotta get lost.”
“Why?”
“I won’t be the reason for you breaking your holy rules.” I’m grouching at him, but snuggling closer as I do. I make no sense.
“What rules would these be?” Beck asks while running his hand through my hair.
It’s all I can do to stifle a moan and my eyes start rolling around like they’re drunk again. “Fornicating. Sleeping with a woman.” I finish the hogwash with a yawn, knowing we’re doing neither.
Beck chuckles so deeply I can feel it rumble through my body. It’s a comforting feeling I could burrow into.
“You know we’re doing nothing wrong here.”
“People won’t know that.”
“I don’t care what others think, and neither should you.” His hand moves from my hair to my back and begins drawing lazy circles along my spine.
I think I dozed off but snap back to when he says, “God knows my intentions toward you are mainly innocent.”
My head pops up. “Mainly?”
“I wouldn’t mind making out with you.”
Beck’s grin is so severe, I have to duck my face to the crook of his neck to hide from it.
“Not happening,” I mumble against his warm skin, even though the idea does sound appealing.
“I know. Rest. I got you, okay?”
I nod and snuggle closer to him as my eyes drift shut. The storm has calmed its rage and has hushed down to a calming rain shower. I listen to the pattering sound it makes along the tin roof. The melody of that, combined with the slow rock of the chair and Beck’s even breaths, lulls me into a deep sleep without me noticing it.
Chapter Six
Late morning arrives and finds me alone in bed, but a new scent lingers on the linens. I bury my face into the pillow that still holds the indented proof he was here and take a deep inhale. If it wasn’t for this alluring smell I’d swear last night was only a scene my overactive imagination conjured all on its own. Sometime before the sun woke up, Beck placed me in bed. After I begged, he laid down for a little while.
I sprawl under the tangle of the white fluffy bedding, not wanting to leave the tender memories dancing through my thoughts just yet—him rocking me, soothing me, lying beside me with a mile between us. His gentlemanly gesture makes me smile, and I’d be happy to stay in this very spot and cling to last night all day long.
“Are you sick?” Jack asks, sending me bolting up in the bed.
“What? NO! You scared the heck out of me! You have got to stop doing this sneaking up junk!” I push a palm to my chest and glare over at him where he’s leaning against the bedroom doorframe.
“Your cheeks are flush. You sure you don’t have a fever?” Jack stalks over and places his hand against my forehead and then to my cheeks. “You’re clammy.”
I bat his hand away and climb out of the bed. “I’m fine. Go make some coffee and I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Coffee’s already made.” His right eyebrow cocks up in suspicion.
“Oh… I must have set it up last night and forgot. My mind feels a bit foggy.” I shift my weight from one leg to the other and fiddle with the hem of my nightshirt.
“Yeah? I found a full bottle of bourbon behind the couch. You wanna talk about it?” Jack reaches out for a hug.
“No!” I dodge around him and lock myself in the bathroom. Leaning against the door, I take a deep breath before opening my eyes but clamp them right back shut when the first thing they land on is Beck’s shirt still resting in the sink.
After I get over it, I nerd out and go sniff the dang thing. Sure enough, the fresh soapy scent of him continues to cling to it.
“You’re such a jezebel,” I mumble to the mirror. The reflection of a wild-eyed, tangled-headed woman glares back at me.
Pulling my act together, I hide the shirt in the hamper and work on washing the heat from my face. A few splashes in, I give up and jump into a frigid shower. The icy pelts do the trick and soon the chattering of my teeth is the only thing I can focus on.
Once I’m presentable in a pair of jeans and a blouse, I head out and find Jack perched at the kitchen island with a cup of coffee in hand. I slide onto the stool beside him and pick up the cup waiting on me. The robust aroma is as heavenly as the first silky sip.
“Thank you.” I lean my head on Jack’s shoulder, hoping my affection will help him forget my bizarre behavior from earlier.
“You can thank me by going to a party with me tonight.” He takes another sip from his white mug. It’s the same color as all my dishes. “There’s going to be a live band.”
“So not my scene.” I roll my eyes and sit up. “I’m gonna pass.”
“Darlin’, you need to get out of this house and be around other humans.” He throws his hand up to stop me before I get started. “Exercise class and the liquor store don’t count.”
I cross my legs and angle more toward him. “I get out more than that.” Not much more, but the food market and bank count.
We go back and forth on my recluse problem, as Jack calls it, before moving to the perpetual thorn in our friendship side. Maxine and the cage she has snared me in. After two more cups of coffee each, we’ve come to no conclusions.
Rinsing the cups, Jack asks, “So… you do anything interesting last night?” He gives me a sidelong glance, making me fidget.
“Umm…” Memories, that were quite interesting, flash before my eyes. “Not really,” I lie with a shrug.
“Mm-hm. So nothing but an untouched bottle of bourbon got you through the storm?”
My shoulder twitches up again like it’s suddenly come down with a case of Tourette’s. “I just wasn’t in the mood to drink it… Actually, I was still hung over from showing up to boot camp yesterday morning wasted.” I decide to mix a little truth with my fibs.
“Oh, I bet Sergeant Sexy got ahold of your lush behind for that.” There’s a weird gleam in his brown eyes.
I stutter out a laugh and shrug again. “Yes, the jerk called me out in front of the entire group.”
“Seems he’s forgiven you.” Jack presses a kiss to the side of my head as he pulls a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and slides it onto the counter in front of me. “Found this by the coffeepot. I’ll be back at eight to pick you up. Be ready.”
Before I can unglue my mouth to apologize, he’s out the door. I look down at the note.
You’re not alone. I think last night was enough proof. I wouldn’t mind a repeat. ~Beck
Sitting here, I’m torn between grinning like a goofball over my first note from a guy and grimacing like the rotten friend I am for lying to my best friend. I grab my phone from the bedroom and text Jack. Sorry. I really suck for lying to you. His message pops up immediately and I know I’m forgiven when I see he’s twisted my words to form his own response.
Jack – Not gonna lie… U really do suck.
Me – See u at 8.
Jack – Wear something sexy. ;-)
Shaking my head, I make my way to the closet in hopes of finding something that’ll get a rise out of him and not in the way his saucy mind would have wanted.
*****
“Ah, heck no. Go back inside and change.” Jack closes the passenger door of his Audi before I can crawl in. The silver sports coup is just a sleek as its owner.
“What’s wrong with this?” I gesture at my attire, tearing my attention away from t
he car’s beauty and directing it to the equally beautiful man leaning against it with his arms crossed.
“You look like you’re heading to the baseball stadium to catch a game.” He glances at his flashy wristwatch. “Hurry up.”
“It’s either the jeans and baseball jersey or I’m not going.” I cross my arms defiantly.
“What about the ball cap? Can you lose that at least? I have people I want to introduce you to tonight.”
“Nope. It stays, too.” I reach up and adjust the brim of the hat.
The standoff lasts longer than I would have guessed. Our battle of the clothes and hair goes round after round for a full fifteen minutes before an exasperated Jack throws his hands up and admits defeat.
We are complete opposites tonight. Jack sleek in a black dress shirt and grey slacks with me casually rumpled in loose jeans and oversized jersey—him broadcasting his attractive perfection with me hiding my unappealing flaws.
The ride to the party is quiet and holds just enough tension to allow my nerves to get the better of me. “Jack, this probably isn’t a good idea.”
“I know it’s not. You might as well show up naked, ’cause that’s how much attention you’re going to draw to yourself by looking like this.” He waves in my direction as he pulls the car into the valet parking area.
“What?” I grouch out.
“You think this baggy mess is going to be your shield. Darlin’, you failed. Every person in that club is going to give you one look and will instantly wonder what you’re hiding.” He puts the car in park and runs his eyes over my frumpiness once again. “How in the heck did you even manage getting all that hair underneath this hat?” He taps the brim.
Before we can continue the argument, a guy dressed in a black T-shirt and black jeans opens my door and offers a hand to help me stand. The handsome redhead eyes me curiously before releasing my hand. I don’t miss the exchange between him and my driver, but don’t comment. I guess Jack pegged my lame hiding attempt correctly.
We walk up to the steel and glass beast called Vel where Jack is part owner. Beams of blue and purple lights shine against the palm trees swaying in the breeze. Their shadows dance against the building in time with the music vibrating through the outdoor speakers, allowing the long line of partiers waiting to get inside a sneak peek of what’s to come once they ever make it past the threshold.
