Conrad

by Anne L. Parks

  Breathing in and out.

  Julie focused on slowing her own breathing to match the slow rhythms of the curtains. The anxiety attack had taken over as she slept, yanking her from her nightmare. She hadn’t experienced the night terrors in a few weeks and had welcomed the respite.

  After the attack on her clinic that afternoon, memories of the explosion in Syria were intricately entwined with the bombing at the clinic. The stories melded together as one, with a completely different outcome—one that Julie forced from her thoughts. Too disastrous to even consider.

  It didn’t happen that way…the visons aren’t real…Conrad didn’t die. You saved him.

  Tossing back the comforter, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat up. Time to face the facts, there would be no sleep tonight. No escape from the nightmares. Grabbing her robe from the hook on the door, she covered her tank top and pajama pants, and tiptoed down the hallway past the guest bedroom door. She paused next to it and listened.

  Soft snores broke the silence of the night. Conrad was asleep. He had insisted on staying with her until Cook was found and arrested. She had feigned irritation at the idea of not being able to protect herself—after all, she had training and a guard dog—but was happy to have someone else there to keep watch over her. Not to mention, the thought of Conrad in her house, sleeping in her bed, had warmed her. Of course, while technically he was in her bed, it was not the same bed she had been in.

  She filled the kettle, placed it on the burner, and dropped a tea bag in a cup. Steam swirled from the spout as the water heated. She flipped the top so the whistle wouldn’t wake Conrad when the water started to boil.

  Wrapping her hands around the hot mug, she slid onto the chair by the window, propped her leg on the adjacent chair, and tentatively sipped the hot liquid. The breeze was rustling the leaves in the trees that hung on for dear life, knowing that once they broke loose, the decent into death was complete. She had spent the last couple of months watching them change color from green to yellow to brown. Shriveled and curled in on themselves, they looked as if they were bracing for the cold of winter to come.

  And the circle of life continued. Where was she in that circle? Was she at the beginning of a new cycle in her life, newly divorced and ready to start over? Or was she changing colors, slowly dying until she eventually floated away on a breeze?

  She desperately wanted to believe she was the former—alive, still young and vibrant, but knew she was closer to the latter. Every day the same as the one before, nothing exceptional, and she had no idea how exactly to change course.

  Part of the issue was her pendulum of emotions regarding Conrad. One minute, she wanted nothing more than to open her heart to him, and see where life took them. Then optimism would swing in the opposite direction, where all she could envision was more heartache. Love would let her down again, and she would be left picking up the pieces of yet another failed relationship. The way Conrad made her feel—just being in his presence—was so different than anything she had experienced with her ex. Yeah, the butterflies in the stomach were there with Linc, just as they were with Conrad. But it was so much more. From that first meeting with Conrad, when he had been such an ass, and then when she had sat and talked to him in the lobby after receiving her divorce papers—everything about him was different than her ex.

  And she still had no idea why she had opened up to him so easily about something so intensely personal and somewhat humiliating. Deception and rejection from someone she had vowed to spend her life with carried a certain amount of humiliation. She knew in her head that the issue wasn’t her—it was Linc. He had cheated. He had broken the rules, the promises, and her heart.

  But that didn’t really matter when she was the one on the outside looking in on her ex and his fiancée as they moved on—happy and unscathed by their actions—and she was left broken, alone. Lonely.

  The connection she felt with Conrad was so much more intense and deep than anything she had felt with Linc. The idea was unfathomable to her, but just as equally undeniable. Was it because she was desperate to have what Linc and Aubree had? Was the need to feel that type of connection—to be closer to another man than she had ever been to Linc—driving this obsession with Conrad?

  The questions were endless. One begets another, and another, and another…none with answers. The entire relationship with Conrad was based on a few days—and really hot nights of sex—while in a situation where daily they faced immortality. Did that play a role in this, as well? Would any relationship they had outside the warzone of Syria have the same intensity when daily life was slow, monotonous, and predictable?

  “Penny for your thoughts?” A male voice said quietly over her shoulder.

  Julie gasped. Her mug shifted in her hands, and she nearly dropped it. She looked back into blue eyes that had the ability to hold her captive.

  “Couldn’t sleep,” she said.

  He raised his eyebrows and glanced at her cup of tea. “Caffeine may not be the best choice for insomnia.”

  “Herbal. The box claims it’s supposed to lull the drinker into a state of sleepiness.”

  “How’s that working for you?” He tapped her leg perched on the chair.

  She moved it, and he sat down, pulling his chair closer to her. The heat from his body wrapped around her like a favorite sweater. Georgie dropped across his feet, her nose resting on Julie’s foot.

  “The events of this afternoon keeping you awake?” He asked.

  “Pretty much. Every time I drift off to sleep, I dream about the explosion. If I lay in bed, every noise I hear outside makes me jump.”

  “Well, if you’re worried about Cook, don’t be. Hank sent a text that they found him, and he’s now a guest in lock-up.”

  “They arrested him?”

  He nodded. “I thought about telling you, but didn’t want to wake you. Guess that wouldn’t have been an issue.”

  Relief rolled through Julie like a warm ocean wave.

  Georgie groaned her displeasure with the conversation interrupting her slumber. Conrad glanced down at the dog, then back at Julie, a grin on his face. “She seems to want to show both of us loyalty.”

  Julie smiled, but shook her head. “I was simply the understudy until you returned.”

  “Tell me about what happened to her—after we got away from Betesh’s house?”

  Julie inhaled deeply, sat up straighter in her chair, and slid her mug on the table. “Kidd and the others in your unit were trying to calm her down. She had blood on her and no one knew if it was yours or hers. They found me, and by some miracle, she let me get close enough to her to exam her. That’s when I found the gunshot wound and some other injuries.

  “The vet was gone, so his tech and I managed to get the bullet and most of the shrapnel out.”

  “Kidd told me you saved her life,” Conrad said.

  Julie shrugged. What was she supposed to say? Yes, so you owe me? Your life for hers? She did what she had to do—not because Georgie was Conrad’s dog, but just because she had taken an oath she firmly believed in. Every life was precious—even if the life came in the form of a four-legged friend, not a two-legged one.

  “She seems to be healed.” It was a statement, but the implied question hung in the air.

  “For the most part—yes. There’s shrapnel we couldn’t get out without potentially causing more harm, so it’s still in her chest.”

  “Chest? Is she okay with it in there?”

  “She seems to be. The vet here in town sees her regularly, and I monitor it to make sure it’s not shifting closer to her heart. So far, it’s staying put. If that changes, it might be a good idea to go in after it.” She glanced out the window. The leaf she had been watching earlier broke free of the limb and danced through the air before landing on the ground. “I’ll make sure you have all her medical records, and you can put your vet in touch with me if there are any questions.”

  A lump formed in her throat and her breathing hitched. Th
e idea of Georgie not being around slammed into her chest. She had wanted to help Conrad’s dog, to make sure she was taken care of until Conrad was able to do it himself. But along the way, the girl had wormed her way into Julie’s heart, and losing her was going to hurt like hell.

  Seemed she was destined to lose the ones she loved.

  “So, it’s settled then? You won’t give me—give us—a second chance?” He asked. His eyes narrowed in a sideways glance.

  “I—” she started, and then chuckled. “I have no idea what to do. My life seems completely out of my control lately, and everything I try to do to get it back to something I remember—something I can live with and be happy—blows up in my face.”

  “You do seem to have an inordinate number of explosions around you,” he quipped. His words sliced through her heart, the sting lingered. “Sorry, bad joke.”

  “How would a relationship between us even work? You’re from Chicago. I live in Montana. There aren’t just a few miles between us. I don’t have a nine-to-five job, which would make going to visit you nearly impossible. And is it really fair to expect you to come here all the time? You wouldn’t be able to leave Georgie for days on end—”

  “She could stay with you.”

  “Not now that she’s seen you, been around you. Losing you again would be devastating to her.”

  Something I know all too well.

  “I’ve saved up money, I could move out here.”

  “And do what in this small town?” she asked. “You would go stir crazy here.”

  Conrad leaned back in his chair and stared at her. “You have an answer for everything. If you don’t want me here, just tell me. If what happened between us in Syria wasn’t real, then let me know.” He leaned forward and grasped her hand between his. “Except, I know you felt it, too, Doc. That pull from deep inside—somewhere I never even knew existed. A dark void in my soul that was brightened by you. The feeling of finally being a whole person. I didn’t want to feel it—denied it for months after the explosion. So fiercely I things with you, even though you were the one person I wanted most to be by my side.”

  “Then why did you push me away?”

  “I don’t know how to explain it…I’m not actually sure I understand it myself. Everything was spinning out of control—I couldn’t process anything that was happening to me. I knew I was injured, and would never fully recover. I was waiting for the inevitable orders that I would be medically retired. Everything I had worked so hard for was suddenly gone. I wasn’t part of my unit. I wouldn’t be joining the new team. I wouldn’t even be part of the military. How on earth could I find any happiness—even with the one person I knew could make me happy? It seemed impossible, and I think a part of me didn’t want to be happy. Refused to even consider that my life, as altered as it was, could ever be more than it had been. I could never be more than I had been.

  “You were the one who was there, that saved my life. But the only thing I could think was my arm was the problem. The nerve damage was so severe that I couldn’t be who I knew I was meant to be. I blocked out the part of the equation that if you hadn’t saved my life, it wouldn’t have mattered if the nerve damage was only limited. I didn’t want to think about that. I couldn’t control anything—except making you go away. Causing you to hurt as much as I was. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. And it wasn’t what I was truly feeling.”

  Damn, he was breaking down her walls. She wanted to believe they had a chance, but it seemed too easy. “Why would you want to give up your life in Chicago to move here on a hope and a prayer that things will work out between us?”

  Conrad snorted. “What life in Chicago? I’ve been in my father’s basement since I returned from Syria. I don’t go out. I never have friends over. I barely speak to my dad. Once Kidd forced me to pull my head out of my ass, I decided I was wasting the one gift you had given me—my life. All the self-pity and loathing was drained out of me when I finally decided what I wanted.”

  He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed them firmly against her skin. The heat swirled like smoke up her arm, heating her body.

  “And what is it that you want?”

  “You.” He hadn’t hesitated a bit. Her heart swelled. He looked around the room. “This. Home. Dog. Beautiful woman to share my life with—I want it all.” He leaned closer and placed one hand against her cheek. “And, god, I want you to want that, too.”

  The world around her faded into the background. There was only Conrad. Everything hinged on this moment. Her answer. She wanted everything he wanted.

  But was she willing to risk that it wouldn’t last? That they weren’t meant for each other?

  Closing her eyes, she placed her hand over his as he caressed her cheek. “I want that, too.”

  His body relaxed. And then his warm lips pressed against hers. Tilting her head, she parted her lips, allowing his tongue to explore her mouth. His hands grasped the sides of her head, firm, in control.

  Longing ignited a flame low in her belly. A hot, desperate, needy thirst only he could quench. She ran her hands up his thighs, fumbled with the button at the waistband, and slowly lowered the zipper. Reaching inside his boxers, she grasped his erection.

  Shifting in his seat, Conrad groaned, and thrust his tongue deeper in her mouth. Her body tingled, her core pulsed. Slipping her pants down her legs, she kicked them to the side, and straddled him.

  “Baby, wait,” Conrad murmured.

  “No,” she said, taking his ear lobe between her teeth. “No more waiting. I need you, Conrad. Not in a minute. Now.”

  Chapter 23

  Doc breezed into the kitchen, hair draped over her shoulders, the morning sun creating shimmering waves of gold. Conrad let his gaze slide over her tight jeans and black riding boots. Even though he had seen her ass in all its naked glory just hours beforehand, he took pleasure in the way the denim clung to her curves.

  “Ready when you are,” she said, taking the travel mug of coffee he handed to her.

  “You sure you don’t want to come with me to Hank’s, and then stop by your office on the way back to get your vehicle?” he asked, forcing his eyes to stay on hers and not the V-neck of her long-sleeved shirt with just a hint of cleavage teasing him. Even with Cook safely in jail, he wasn’t sure he wanted to leave her side. Maybe it was how close he had come to losing her the day before, or the amount of time they had been apart, but something black loomed in the periphery of his subconscious, making him nervous to let her out of his sight.

  “There’s no need,” she said, smile on her face, but her eyebrow lifted just enough to be suspicious of his motives. “The fire inspector and insurance adjuster are probably already there, waiting for me. I’ll talk to them, get my SUV, and meet you back here.” She took a sip of her coffee, her eyes locking on his. “So, are you planning on staying at Hank’s place?”

  Warmth flooded his chest and he forced down the laugh that threatened, but—damn if she wasn’t adorable when she was vulnerable. He leaned back against the counter, crossed one boot over the other, his arms wrapped around his chest. “Well, I don’t know where else I would go? I’m not really a bed and breakfast kind of guy, and the motel isn’t fit for dead people, so…”

  Setting her mug on the counter beside him, she pulled his arms open, and stepped into them. “You could stay here—you know, to be close to Georgie and rebuild your relationship.”

  “With Georgie?” he asked and quirked up an eyebrow. He leaned in and kissed her soft lips. The idea of waking up to her every morning, and kissing these lips, feeling her warm arms around him—there was nothing in the world he wanted more.

  Her cell phone buzzed. She pulled it from her back pocket and broke off the kiss. “Julie Sutton.”

  Conrad kissed along her ja and down her neck. Her fingers tugged at his short hair. Pulling the fabric of her top back, he blazed a trail of licks and kisses along her shoulder.

  “Uh-huh.” Her breath hitched. “I’m leaving the house now, and
should be there in a few minutes.” Before he could react, she had stepped out of his grasp. “Come on, lover boy, we need to make tracks.”

  Conrad groaned. “Okay, but when we get back here, I’m picking up where I left off.”

  * * *

  The fire inspector had confirmed what they already knew. A homemade bomb tossed through the front window of the clinic caused the explosion and fire that nearly wiped out the first floor of the beautiful Victorian home. The insurance adjuster declared all the medical equipment, furniture, and supplies a total loss. Everything would have to be replaced. The clinic was salvageable, but repairs and construction would take at least three months to complete.

  There was no way she could be out of commission that length of time. On her way home, she had contacted the local realtor and had her checking out places adequate to temporarily house her clinic. She had also talked to Brooklyn, who had been released that morning with a few bumps, bruises, and a slight concussion. Julie told her to rest and relax and not worry about work. She would be covered—along with her salary—under the clinic’s business insurance.

  Her phone buzzed and she glanced at the caller ID. Her ex-husband. What the hell is he calling for?

  She pressed the speakerphone button. “Hey, Linc.”

  “Hi—uh—how are you? I heard about what happened at your office yesterday. Sorry I didn’t call sooner. You doing okay?” His words were rushed and uncomfortable, not unlike most of their conversations lately.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. A little shaken up, but no real harm done.”

  “I heard they arrested someone already. That’s good, right?”

  “Certainly makes me feel a little more relaxed that the person responsible won’t be able to try again.” She wanted to laugh at his awkwardness, but decided against it. After all, he was calling to check on her. That was nice, she supposed.

  “I was wondering if you were going to be around the house today? There are a few things in the basement that I haven’t picked up yet—figured today was as good a day as any—you know, if it’s not an inconvenience for you.”