My eyes nearly bugged out of my head.
What?
Oh my God.
“How do you know?” I whispered.
“A woman like you, a woman who looks like you, doesn’t save herself for twenty-six fuckin’ years then gives it to a guy she’s known a couple of days because she feels in the mood for an adventure.”
This was true.
Shit.
This meant Duke was right. Men did know a lot more about the way a woman’s mind works than we wanted them to know.
I decided this was not a good thing especial y if Vance had figured out the same thing.
I was fucked.
I decided not to think about it at al , ever or at least not until tomorrow.
“Nearly twenty-seven,” I said in an attempt to be amusing and steer us away from a tense subject.
One side of his mouth went up in a grin. I thought that I’d succeeded. I was wrong.
“With Vance or without, you always got me.” I felt that weight hit my chest, tears heavy there and I sucked in breath to control them.
“Thank you,” I whispered because I didn’t know what else to say, “you too. You, um, always got me too.” He shook his head, touched his finger to my nose then he was gone.
I stared at the door that he’d closed behind him.
Wow.
* * * * *
Hazel, Boo and I went right to Vance’s cabin without one glance at Vance’s directions. Boo was not used to car rides and told me he didn’t like them overly much. Indeed, he described his displeasure at length. Then he asked if this was an unheard of nocturnal visit to his most hated person in the world, the vet. When I assured him we were going to see Vance, not the vet, he sat on my thigh and dug his claws into my flesh to hold on and started purring.
Crazy fucking cat.
We parked close to the cabin door next to Vance’s Harley. With my bag and purse over my shoulder, Boo’s litter box in my hand and Boo tucked under my other arm, we made our awkward way to the cabin. The curtains were open, the windows were lit and the light coming into the surrounding darkness seemed warm and welcoming.
I opened the door and dropped Boo who immediately began to explore. I put his litter box in the corner.
Vance wasn’t in the room but the buffalo-shaded floor lamp was lit and the cabin was warm, far warmer than the last time I was there.
It was nearly midnight and I figured Vance was asleep. I was wrong.
He walked down the hal , feet bare, stil wearing his clothes. He stopped at the entry into the living room and leaned a shoulder against it. His hair was not pul ed back.
He looked relaxed, at ease, at home and hot.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey,” he said.
“Meow,” Boo said.
“I brought Boo,” I explained unnecessarily. “I hope that’s al right. He doesn’t like the way Nick serves his breakfast.” Vance grinned but didn’t say anything. I decided to take this as an al clear for the uninvited feline houseguest.
“Learn anything?” Vance asked.
“I learned that Luke hogs al the action,” I replied.
Vance’s grin turned to a smile.
I was standing by the dining room table and it seemed that Vance was far away.
I felt weird. I’d never had a sleepover at my boyfriend’s (or whatever) house. I mean, I did have a sleepover but that was a break-up/make-up session that included a rousing fight,
unbelievable
sex
and
a
heartbreaking
misunderstanding. I hoped this wasn’t going to be the same (though the unbelievable sex wouldn’t be unwelcome).
I needed him to make a move but he seemed happy where he was.
Hmm.
“I’m going to take a bubble bath,” I announced.
The vibe changed, his tractor beam flipped on and I felt my body lean towards him.
Final y he walked toward me, grabbed my bag off my shoulder and then walked away. I fol owed him to the bedroom. He dumped my bag on the bed and then he lay down, picked up his book and started reading.
Okay then, tractor beam malfunction.
I got my stuff, took a long bubble bath, lotioned up with cucumber melon and put on my new nightie, soft, pale lemon silk with an edge of peach lace that hit the tops of my thighs. I yanked on my new lacy, white hipsters. I’d bundled my hair in a lose knot with a ponytail holder at the top of my head. I left my bathroom stuff where it was, gathered up my clothes and went to the bedroom.
The house was dark but the light was on in the bedroom.
My bag was now on the floor, Vance was under the covers, Boo lying on his stomach, making himself at home.
Vance’s chest was bare and he was up on pil ows, reading, his fingers rubbing Boo’s neck.
When I entered Vance’s eyes cut to me. I rushed to my side of the bed trying not to look like I was rushing. I dumped my clothes, climbed in and confiscated Boo for a cuddle. Boo had been comfy and protested.
“Hush, Boo. Mommy wants a cuddle,” I told him.
“Meow.”
“Hush.”
I felt like an idiot talking to my cat, taking a bubble bath, having a boyfriend.
I was kind of flipping out.
This was normal stuff that normal girls do.
I’d never been normal. I’d always been kind of a freak.
And anyway, Vance was hot. I often forgot how hot he was, what with us arguing most of the time. He was just as beautiful lying in bed reading as he was kicking bad guy ass. Being reminded of that fact without him moving inside me or in a heated discussion with me made me feel…
unsure.
We’d not had many quiet, normal, mel ow times, hardly any. I found I couldn’t handle it.
“I can’t handle this,” I told Vance, letting Boo go. Boo hustled to the end of the bed, plopped down on his side and gave me a glare.
“What?” Vance asked.
“This,” I threw my arm out. Boo had given up the glare and started cleaning his face with his paw likely washing away cucumber melon lotion residue.
“You’re gonna have to explain, Princess.”
“I can’t explain.” And I couldn’t, at least not without sounding like a fool.
See, I’d never thought I’d have this in my life. I always thought I’d be alone. I was happy with that. I liked being alone, as long as Nick was next door and Boo felt talkative (which was al the time).
What if this worked for us? I got used to taking bubble baths in Vance’s cabin. Boo lying on the end of his bed like he’d lived there his whole kitty life. Vance crashing at my place and using my shower and making us dinner.
What if I eventual y had clothes here, doubled up on the toiletries, litter box and kitty bowls so I didn’t have to cart them back and forth?
What if Vance’s jeans hung in my closet and I had to shift my nightgowns so he could have space for his t-shirts?
What if I got used to that, what if I liked it then it was al swept away?
My cute pug was chewing on my fingers, baby-dog teething.
Did pugs go bad?
I started to breathe heavily and I realized I was close to hyperventilating.
Shit!
“For fuck’s sake,” Vance muttered. He’d been staring at me the whole time I was processing and obviously lost patience.
He put down his book and hauled me across the bed and into his arms, right on top of him.
Even though this was a loving gesture and the words he next spoke were in a tone that was both sweet and tender, a tone I’d never heard him use before and I liked it a lot, the actual words were not loving, sweet or tender.
“Girl, it’s a good thing you’re so fuckin’ beautiful or you’d be a serious pain in the ass.”
I rested my forearms on his chest and my head snapped up to look at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m thinkin’ you didn’t get it. When you
stil your body, you also got to stil your mind.”
“What if you can’t?”
“You can.”
“What if you can’t?”
“You can.”
I made a “huh” noise in the back of my throat.
Vance burst out laughing.
Wel then.
Whatever.
I slid off him but he kept an arm around my waist, holding me to his side. I held my body tense, deciding to hold a grudge even as I rested my cheek on his shoulder.
He picked up his book and continued reading.
I decided tomorrow I was going to break up with him and I started to enumerate the reasons for doing so in my mind.
He was too good-looking. I’d have to keep my head crackin’ mamma jamma skil s honed to beat off al the bitches who wanted a piece of him. He was too arrogant, lying there, not paying any attention to my negative-body-language grudge (regardless of my cheek on his shoulder and my arm which had snaked around his waist) and reading like he didn’t have a care in the world. He told me what to do al the time, in macho-speak no less, and in front of other people.
While I was mental y enumerating, his fingers pul ed up my nightie, his hand slid inside my panties over the cheek of my ass, to come to rest flat against my hip.
That felt nice.
As in way nice.
So nice, my body relaxed, giving up the grudge.
Okay, then I’d break up with him the day after tomorrow.
Or maybe sometime next week.
When I made that decision, I fel asleep.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Home
“Meeeeooow! ”
My eyes opened and I saw smooth brown skin.
My head turned and I realized I was partial y on my side, partial y on Vance. I was pressed up against Vance’s side and back, he was on his stomach. My cheek had been resting on his shoulder, my arms cocked, one hand against his side, the other flat on his back. My hips and legs were in ful contact, my top leg thrown over his thigh.
Major cuddle action.
Um.
Serious yikes.
Boo was standing on my shoulder staring down at me, each of his kitty paws pressing into me like they weighed a ton even though Boo himself weighed less than twelve pounds.
He was confused at his unprecedented new location and thinking he was four hours ahead, perhaps in Boston (even though it was doubtful he knew Boston existed), rather than outside Golden and in the same time zone as always.
Therefore he’d decided he wanted an early breakfast.
“Meeeeeeeooooooooow! ”
Jeez.
I moved away from Vance trying to do it gently so as not to wake him if Boo hadn’t already.
“Hush, Boo,” I whispered, my voice sounding hoarse with sleep. I was a heavy sleeper. I knew it was early and I was not happy to have my sleep and my warm cuddle interrupted.
Vance moved, coming up on his forearms and looking toward me. “I got him,” Vance’s voice was sleepy too, husky-sleepy, sexy-husky-sleepy.
“That’s okay,” I said.
Then I stopped talking, stopped breathing and my bel y fluttered in deep Grade Eight fol owed by a rol er-coaster plummet when I looked at him.
His voice wasn’t the only thing that was sexy-husky-sleepy. His eyes were soft, warm and unguarded and he was looking at me with that “mine” possessive look but also that other look too, the one I could never figure out but I knew I remembered. This time, early in the morning, dawn not even a promise, the room dim and Vance unguarded, the look was magnified.
And I final y remembered where I’d seen that look before.
No one had ever looked at me that way.
No, I’d seen someone else looking at someone else that way.
Nick used to look at Auntie Reba that way.
Like she was breath.
Like she was necessity.
Like she was life.
That was the way Vance was looking at me.
Right then, in the dim room, his eyes half-sleepy and half-ful … of me.
Oh… my… God.
“I got him,” Vance repeated not realizing I’d frozen. He leaned toward me, touched his lips to mine and got out of bed. He pul ed on his jeans, did up al the buttons but two, rifled through my bag until he found Boo’s food and he walked out of the bedroom, Boo prancing in his wake, tail straight up.
I col apsed on the pil ows and then turned my back to the door.
“Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap,” I whispered to myself again and again, holding the pil ow to me. Then I stopped when I thought maybe Vance could hear.
Something was stealing over me, over my skin, through my insides, both places it felt like velvet. Then it was al around me like a cocoon, warm and sweet and safe.
Then Auntie Reba’s voice came to me, the first time in years.
After she died I’d hear it a lot, sometimes memories, sometimes like she was talking to me. I used to think I was a little insane so I kept it to myself. I didn’t even tel Nick. It was my secret and I didn’t want anyone to talk me out of having her voice with me. The months passed and it went away but now it was back. I heard her voice, soft and wise, just like it had been the day she said the words.
Nick was in danger of getting transferred to Springfield, Il inois. I didn’t want to go to Springfield. Nick didn’t want to go to Springfield. Auntie Reba didn’t want to go to Springfield. We were in the kitchen and I was pitching a teenaged fit. Denver was al I knew, it was home.
Auntie Reba, on the other hand, seemed total y at peace.
“How can you be so calm?” I’d shouted.
She turned to me, a smal smile on her lips. “Jules, sweetheart, home isn’t a place. Home is anywhere, just as long as the people you love are there.” Nick never got transferred and a few months later Auntie Reba died.
And home was torn away from us. We’d been homeless ever since.
Or we thought we were.
The tears hit my chest with a weight so hard it shoved itself up my throat and I could do nothing about it. It hurt too much to hold them back, they sprang from my eyes.
I was final y, finally back home.
But having Nick al these years I realized I’d never left.
“I’m so stupid,” I told the pil ow.
“Jules?”
I turned in the bed, flat on my back and looked at Vance standing in the doorway, tears streaming from my eyes.
“I… I’m so f… fucking stupid,” I sobbed.
“Jesus,” he whispered, took two long strides and then I was in his arms.
“She left and sh… she was… ho… ho… home,” I said against his neck, somehow I was in his lap and holding on tight. “And N… N… Nick and now this. I’m so stupid.” I was making no sense. I knew it but I couldn’t help it.
Vance had an arm tight around my waist, the other hand stroking my back.
“She died twelve years ago. When is it going to stop hurting! ” I screamed over his shoulder.
“I don’t know, Princess,” Vance murmured into my neck.
I sat in his lap holding on to him and then al of a sudden I shouted, “I’m a freak! ”
I was bouncing from subject to subject, my mind unable to hold a thought.
He pul ed away and looked at me. “Sorry?”
“I’m twenty-seven years old and I’ve never had a boyfriend. I’m a total, fucking freak. I don’t know what to do with you. Even though I’ve semi-gotten over the whole Vance Crowe, badass, super-cool, macho-man, danger-seeker gig, that stil , like, flips me out, by the way, now I don’t know how to be normal. I don’t know what to do.
Auntie Reba would tel me.”
Vance was staring at me like he didn’t know what to do either but was leaning towards a cal to the doctor.
“I need to cal Nick,” I announced, “I have to tel him I love him.”
“It’s barely six o’clock in the morning.”
“He’s an early riser.”
<
br /> “Jules, I think he knows you love him.”
I stared at him and narrowed my eyes. “Are you sure?” He grinned at me. “Pretty much.”
I nodded my head decisively once. “Okay then,” I said.
Vance kept watching me closely.
Final y he asked, “Are you al right?”
“No, I’m not al right. I’m stupid. I’m total y clueless. I’m a mess. I’m a freak. I thought we’d already established that.” His grin faded and the atmosphere in the room went electric. I’d been relaxed even though I was crying; my body was using his for strength and warmth. I tensed when the room changed because he’d tensed in fact he went solid as a rock.
His arms went from around me and he pul ed the ponytail holder out of the mess of hair at the top of my head and then twisted, tossing it on the nightstand.
The he came back to me.
When he did even in the dim light I saw his eyes were intense, more intense than usual, burning into me. His hands slid through my hair at the sides of my head, his fingers combing through it al the way down my back. His hands came up again, to either side of my head, holding it in position to look at him, his thumbs coming forward and wiping away my tears. I got the impression he did al this as an effort at control. What he was trying to control, I did not know but I was about to find out.
“You’re a woman who lost her family, all of her family, and did what she had to do to keep going. There’s not one fuckin’ thing stupid or clueless about that.”
“Crowe –”
He interrupted me. “I hear you cal yourself that again, it’s gonna piss me off.”
Um.
Yikes.
He already sounded pissed off.
“Are you angry with me?” I whispered.
He ignored my question and carried on. “If you’d given yourself to someone else, you wouldn’t be mine. And that would seriously piss me off.”
Okay, now he sounded seriously pissed off.
“Crowe –” I tried again.
“Far as I can see with the time she had, your aunt did a fuckin’ great job with you and left you in the hands of a man who handled you with care. I can understand you miss her but if she was alive, she’d be proud of who you’ve become.”
Rock Chick Renegade Page 33
