“Shit!” I swore. “We gotta go to the station.”
She shook her head. “I called them, told them I was too tired to come in and I’d see them tomorrow morning, first thing.”
I nodded. “I need to call. They’re probably wondering where I am.”
Her cheeks turned pink. “I told them you were with me.”
A slow smile spread across my face. Her words were as good as the pizza.
“You were tired!” She protested. Then her nose wrinkled. “You snore.”
“I do not.” I shoved more food in my mouth.
“Do, too!” She argued.
“You fart in your sleep.” I lied.
What? I needed some kind of comeback because I did snore. Loud.
She gasped like she’d just witnessed some emergency. “I do not!” Her voice was indignant. “How dare you?”
“As a doctor, I can assure you it’s a perfectly natural thing for the human body to—” A pillow flew at my face. “Ah!” I yelled and ducked, trying to protect the pizza.
“Don’t you use that doctor mumbo jumbo on me, mister!” she yelled and reached for another pillow.
I laughed and made a mental note to piss her off more often. She was fucking hot when she threw things at my head.
“I’m trying to eat!” I yelled, totally amused.
“I’m gonna shove that pizza where the sun don’t—” I grabbed her around the waist and pushed her back, coming over her.
And I did it all while still holding on to my eats.
“Now, fairy, I was just teasing.” I admonished while taking another bite.
She glared daggers at my face. I kinda liked that, too.
“I do not fart in my sleep.” She insisted.
“No, you don’t.” I agreed.
Her eyes narrowed.
I smiled. “Take a bite.” I offered her my slice.
She glared at it dubiously.
“I hear your stomach growling,” I told her.
“I want a pepperoni.” Her chin jutted out.
I chuckled and plucked a red slice off the top and dangled it against her lips. She snatched it and started chewing.
I let her up, and we went back to eating. “So you told the cops I was your boyfriend, huh?”
“No,” she gasped.
I laughed. “I’ll tell them, then.”
She looked at me like I had ten heads.
“Problem?” I asked.
“You aren’t my boyfriend.”
“What if I want to be?”
The pizza in her hand lowered from her lips. Her hair was slept on, her eyes bright and finally more rested looking. The shirt she wore slid down to expose one shoulder, and her lips were slightly shiny from the grease on the pizza.
She was like my wet dream in the flesh.
And damn could she make a mean cup of coffee.
“I think it’s too soon for you to know that,” she replied slowly.
I shrugged. “I know what I want, but I’ll wait ‘til you do.” I wasn’t worried about it. I’d make her mine; of that I was completely sure.
“I do want something,” she said, cautious.
“Name it.” I went after more pizza.
“I want to meet Rocco. And your sister.”
Aannd I forgot about the pizza. It hit the bottom of the cardboard box with a slap. “No.” The word was flat. Final.
Her eyes narrowed.
No, I didn’t think it was cute this time. This was serious.
“Did I or didn’t I just sit here and listen to you say you wanted to be my boyfriend?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose with two fingers and sighed. “Rose.”
“So you were either lying or you actually planned to date me without introducing me to the most important person in your life.” The disgust in her voice was evident.
I backpedaled. “That’s not what I meant. You wanna meet Rocco? I’m all for it. It will be amusing to watch him clobber you at poker.”
Shit. Maybe I had been too fast to mention the boyfriend card. At first, I’d been teasing her. But then I wasn’t. I did want to date Rose. I wanted to bury my dick in her body as often as she’d let me, too. But beyond that, I was willing to give making a relationship with her my best shot.
How could it work? I mean, really…
My sister literally tried to have her killed.
What happened if Laura went to jail? I’d probably get custody of Rocco. I’d sure as hell fight for it. Yeah, my mom would be a huge part of his life, like she already was, but I would raise him. I would see to it.
That’s a lot to ask of a woman, especially one as young as Rose. She wasn’t more than twenty-four. I knew because I’d asked her one day when we’d been flirting.
So already, at the beginning of what I hoped was a relationship, I was asking her to put up with my work schedule and dedication, the fact my sister tried to chop her up like she was an old car being sold for parts… but also potentially raising the son of said chopper?
Goddamn. I wanted to run.
How could she not?
But if for some miracle she stuck around, would she hold the sins of his mother against Rocco? Rose didn’t seem like the type, but could I risk it with him—a boy who’d already been through too much?
“You’re protecting her,” Rose said, stunned.
“No,” I growled. “I’m not protecting her. I’m protecting you and him.”
“I have a right to look her in the eye, Derek, after what she tried to do to me.”
I frowned.
“I only know what you’ve told me. I believe you. But I need to look her in the eye and see for myself what kind of person she is. This is something I have to do.”
“Rose.” Her name ripped out of me. I felt trapped, caught in the middle.
She was right. Absolutely. She did have a right to this. Even more so she wasn’t even asking for that much. A conversation. A chance to understand.
“This is the real reason you cancelled with the cops tonight, isn’t it?” I asked. “You want to speak with her first.”
Her head bobbed. “Honestly? Yes.” Then she added, “But also, you really were sound asleep. And I had to call my mother.” She grimaced. “She’d been worried sick. It took me almost thirty minutes to convince her not to rush over here.”
Damn, I really had been sound asleep.
“You close to your parents?” I asked, avoiding the topic a few more minutes.
She smiled and nodded. “Yes, and I have two sisters I’m close to as well.”
I liked that she had a family, sisters… Maybe that meant it was easier for her to understand this fucked-up situation even better.
I blew out a breath. “Yeah, okay. We’ll go see her.”
“Tonight.” She pressed.
I nodded. “Yeah, but I gotta swing by my place first. I need clothes.”
“I’ll make us some coffee.” She started to slide off the bed, but her muscles tensed and her breath hissed.
“Soreness set in,” I murmured, hooked an arm around her waist from behind, and towed her back against me.
“Yeah,” she replied pitifully.
I kissed the side of her head. She snuggled close, and my heart turned over. I tossed aside the pizza box and wrapped myself around her. “While we’re at the hospital, we can pick up your pain meds.”
“All I need is some coffee and you.” The softness in her tone awoke the barely contained desire she always stirred in me.
“Coffee is your answer to everything, isn’t it?” I mused.
“Of course.” Her hand floated low, down to my package. “But I’m thinking you might be, too.”
I covered her hand with mine, pressing it a little more firmly against my cock. The action was in direct conflict with my words. “You’re too sore.”
“Aren’t you?”
“I didn’t get shot,” I rebutted. Even if I was sore, I wouldn’t admit it. Besides, I’d never be too sore for sex.
r /> “What if you go really slow?” Her thumb stroked over the most sensitive spot at my head.
My already awakening dick came to full attention. “You’ve gone and done it now,” I told her as it moved against her hand.
“See? You want me, too.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” I drawled, “that’s not even in question.”
Green eyes turned up to mine. Her pink tongue jutted out to wet the peach of her lips. I groaned and cupped her ass. I was pleased to see she wasn’t wearing any panties beneath the shorts.
My fingers delved between her folds, sliding against the gathering moisture.
She wanted me.
“This time I’m gonna kiss you in places I didn’t get a chance to last time,” I whispered, pushing on her shoulders until she was lying completely against the blankets.
I lifted up her shirt, baring her breast for my lips, and latched on.
Her breath whooshed out. Fingers dove into my hair as I sucked and licked her flesh the way I’d always wanted to. She tasted sweet, and the sensation of her against my tongue was unmistakable.
She was shaking by the time I entered her, slow and careful, just like I’d been since I first lifted her shirt.
I discovered something while I was making love to her this way. It didn’t matter how hard or intensely we went at each other. As long as it was her beneath me, everything else was just details.
25
Rose
What did you say when you faced someone who hurt you?
I’m not talking about eating your last bag of chips or taking the perfect parking spot even though you’d been sitting near it with your blinker on.
The closer we got to the hospital, the tighter I clutched at the mug in my palm. The warmth there soothed me. I’d missed my coffee, not just the taste, but the action of making it, breathing the heady aroma, and how the heat radiated into my palms.
Tonight, I was drinking a vanilla and caramel-swirled latte with a double shot of espresso. I added an extra drizzle of caramel to the top to fortify me.
Well, that and because… caramel.
Derek was drinking his usual, the same cappuccino I always made for him. He’d watched me make it in my kitchen before we left for his place like he truly was fascinated by what I was doing. So I ended up pulling him into the room and giving him an impromptu coffee lesson.
He did a good job.
He spent half his time kissing the side of my neck while I steamed the milk.
Derek was driving his sister’s SUV, and I ended up behind the wheel of his Land Rover. It was a much bigger car than I was used to driving. Yeah, I drove the coffee truck, but not that often anymore because it remained parked at the hospital. My everyday car was a small two-door Honda.
After he’d changed, he handed me the keys and asked me to follow him so he could leave his sister’s car at the hospital for when she needed it.
I couldn’t say no, so I agreed and drove the thing, nervous I was going to run something over the entire time.
We weaved through the parking lot longer than necessary until he found two spots toward the back, beside each other. Once we were parked, I took a minute to sip at my coffee and fuss with my hair.
Not that it needed it. Since I hadn’t blown it dry after our shower and we’d rolled around in bed most of the day, I’d just pulled it up into a high ponytail. I was dressed down in a pair of denim shorts (not the daisy duke kind, thank you very much) and a loose white top made out of some floaty gauze material. Beneath it was a simple white tank, and on my feet were a pair of white flip-flops.
Derek wasn’t too happy with my choice of footwear. He thought I should wear something more steady to walk in since I was limping.
I told him too bad and did what I wanted.
I think it amused him.
I hadn’t bothered with makeup. Derek had already seen me at my worst. Plus, there was no point in even trying to cover up my bruised face.
I must have procrastinated too long, because there was a light tap on the driver’s window. With a sigh, I opened the door. Derek pulled it open all the way and leaned in.
“You don’t have to do this,” he said knowingly.
“I want to.” I lied and got out.
The door shut definitively behind me.
Derek stepped up close. He smelled like a mixture of my soap and his aftershave. You’d think the combination wouldn’t be too appealing, but, oh, it was. It was like I still lingered on his skin… and my scent mingled with his.
See? Primal. He made me feel something I could only describe as primal.
The coffee was plucked out of my hand, and I tried to snatch it back. He moved it up and sat it on the roof of his car. Both hands came to rest at my hips. I leaned back against the cool metal and took all the weight off my injured leg.
Carefully, he slid one thigh between mine.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dressed so casually,” I said, smoothing my palms across his T-shirt covered chest while I reminded myself to breathe.
When he’d come out of his room in a pair of faded loose jeans and a faded cotton red T-shirt with a large pale star in the center, I’d nearly choked on my spit. He filled out his clothes in all the right places, the worn fabric practically molding to his body.
God, he looked even better in jeans than he did in a suit. I only ever saw him at the hospital in scrubs or some kind of suit with a doctor’s coat.
Yeah, he’d been dressed in sweats when we were in the silos, but that didn’t count.
I loved his closeness. I loved the way everything about him crowded me, like there were no boundaries between us. I knew in my head it seemed like we were moving so very fast.
But in my heart, and in a sense, we weren’t at all.
I’d known Derek for several months.
I saw him on almost a daily basis. Sure, we mostly engaged in light, flirty conversation, but he was no stranger. And after what we’d survived together… it felt like we’d been through more than what some couples experienced in years.
“Get used to it,” he told me. “You’re going to start seeing me a lot more outside of this place.”
“I could get used to that.” I stretched up and kissed him quickly.
He smiled against my lips.
“You ready for this?” he asked, glancing up at the huge, imposing hospital.
No. “Yes.”
Derek offered me his back, and I laughed. I didn’t turn down the ride, though. I hopped on. When I was settled against him, his arms snuggly hooked beneath my knees, he leaned forward so I could grab my drink.
“We need to get you some crutches,” he huffed halfway across the lot.
“I like the arrangement we have currently,” I said primly.
He laughed.
We got some looks when he strode right through the hospital with me on his back. I told him to put me down, but he ignored me.
Finally, inside the elevator, I was carefully placed on my feet.
“When you want to leave, just say the word,” he murmured, taking my hand as the doors slid open.
I nodded. It was suddenly hard to swallow. When we stepped into the hall, my stomach and chest tightened. My palms felt a little clammy, and I felt silly for getting so worked up. But I couldn’t help it. I didn’t like confrontation.
I supposed some people thrived off this kind of thing, but I wasn’t one of those people.
Plus, it was really starting to sink in that I was coming face to face with someone who basically ordered my murder.
It wasn’t personal, I told myself. I knew it hadn’t been. It’d been about anyone who was a possible match for her son.
Funny thing about kidnapping, though; it felt pretty freaking personal.
When Derek’s footsteps slowed near the end of the hall, my heart rate spiked. I swallowed and gripped his hand tight.
The TV was on inside Rocco’s room. It sounded like some kind of comedy. I heard a laugh that could only belong
to a little boy, and it actually released some of the panic inside me.
He sounded like Derek.
I couldn’t help but picture a miniature of the man next to me just beyond the door.
How adorable.
He leaned in and spoke low against my ear. “I’ll get Laura.”
I held his hand until I couldn’t anymore, and our fingers pulled apart out of necessity.
“Uncle Derek!” a voice from inside exclaimed. “I’ve been waiting for you!”
“Rocco, my man,” Derek said. The happiness in his voice made me smile. “Get those cards out, kid. I’m about to whip your ass.”
“Derek!” a woman gasped, and I instantly tensed. “Don’t teach him to cuss.”
She sounded like every other mother I’d ever met. Including my own.
“Aww, Mom, I’ve heard worse on TV,” Rocco quipped.
“Well, if the people on TV jumped off a bridge, would you do it, too?” she asked.
He laughed.
“Hey, uh, someone wants to talk to you out in the hall,” Derek said, a serious note creeping into his tone.
I felt the charged silence that bounced between them.
I leaned against the wall outside the door and tried to calm my nerves. This was hard.
“I’ll be back in a bit,” she said. “Don’t beat your uncle too bad. You’ll embarrass him.”
“Hey!” Derek called like he was offended. “I only lost a couple times.”
“Yeah right,” Rocco retorted.
Laura chuckled. “No cussing.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he called.
Seconds later, a thin woman with long, dark hair stepped out into the hall. At first, she didn’t see me. She stopped, glanced around, and then spun, presumably to go back into the room.
We locked eyes.
Her face drained of color, and a palm pressed to the center of her stomach like she was suddenly ill.
“Hello, Laura.” I spoke softly.
“Rose?” she asked.
I nodded, swallowing thickly. She’d been to my coffee truck before. I recognized her. Of course, I had no idea she was Derek’s sister at the time. She’d just been another customer.
Her hair had been haphazardly pulled back that day, too, as if it were an afterthought. I remembered thinking how tired she looked and wondering why she was at the hospital.
Taxi (Take It Off #11) Page 20