Temporary Home

by Aliyah Burke

  Sam stared at the boy who walked with him and the lovely Roxi. Her nephew was an inquisitive lad. Smart too.

  “It is an honour for me,” he replied honestly. “With the Marine Corps you have a family.” He paused. “Or another family.”

  He sliced his gaze to Roxi. She wore her hair loose and it fluttered with the breeze. The overwhelming urge to grab her and kiss her hit him. Hard. It wasn’t like the feeling ever truly left him, though. She seemed a bit more relaxed now than she had back at the house, after whatever had occurred between her and Laila. He’d wanted to have her share but he didn’t want to intrude on her business.

  Pathetic man. A Marine. A Recon Marine and feelings scare you.

  “Do you have a family, Mr Sam?”

  “Eric, I don’t think Sam wants to talk about that,” Roxi admonished. Her eyes met his and were full of apology.

  “It’s okay,” he said, surprising himself. Focusing back on Eric, he smiled. “The Corps is my family, aside from Laila and Master Gunnery Sergeant Richardson.”

  “What happened to your parents?”

  “I don’t know. I grew up in…in foster care.”

  There was no way he was telling a boy that his parents had put him in the car and had driven him to a city in Minnesota—a different state than he had lived in—and had left him. Alone. No money, no friends, no anything. He avoided looking at Roxi, not wanting to witness the sympathy in her eyes. Eric touched his arm briefly and he glanced at the boy.

  “Aunt Roxi and I are your family too.”

  He was humbled. “Thank you, Eric.” This time he did chance a look at Roxi and he swore there were tears in her eyes. He’d just had his defences breached by a boy he’d known less than a day.

  Roxi steered the conversation back to a less emotional topic for him. He found himself amazed at the difference between the boy walking with him and the one he’d met in uniform. Eric knew how to have fun and relax when he wasn’t in uniform. Something Sam had not managed to do.

  Back at the house—he’d waved to Laila on the porch but hadn’t swung off to talk to her, unwilling to leave Eric and Roxi—he was surprised to see the boy grab a board game from a shelf instead of a video game and take it to the kitchen table. Turned out it was a board-and-card game.

  “You playing?” Roxi questioned from where she set it up.

  “This looks like—”

  “Sam. You are more than welcome to play. Eric would love it if you joined in.” She neared and put a hand on his arm, the strength and warmth of her touch like a shock to his system. “It’s our way of staying close and not allowing technology to get in between us.”

  “You’re playing, right, Sam?”

  He caught Roxi’s subtle flinch when Eric didn’t use ‘Mr’ before his name and he quickly assured them both that Sam was just fine.

  Eric’s big brown eyes watched him expectantly. “So you’ll play?”

  “Yes.”

  The boy’s answering grin was enough to banish any remaining uncertainty. Eric hurried to the table in his camo pants and brown shirt.

  A warrior in the making. They played the game Sequence until Roxi called it a night.

  “Night, Eric.” She hugged and kissed him.

  “Night, Aunt Roxi.” Eric skidded to the edge of the kitchen. “Goodnight, Sam.”

  “Goodnight, Eric.” Sam found Roxi grinning at him. “What?”

  “I’d begun to wonder if you ever smiled. You do. You’re good with kids.” She gathered up the chips. “He likes you.”

  Sam moved towards her and reached around her to place the cards in the case. “What about you?”

  She quivered beneath him. “Oh, I like you too.”

  His cock hardened to the point of almost being painful. Lord, he wanted to rip her clothes off and sink between her thighs, into her velvet heat. She called to him on so many different levels, he couldn’t even begin to start explaining it.

  Roxi rotated so they were face to face. So close. So tempting.

  “Sam?”

  He lowered his lids until he stared at her through his lashes. Her full, plump lips begged to be kissed. He longed to drag his tongue down her throat to the neckline of her shirt. And beyond. Expose the treasures she kept hidden.

  “Roxi.”

  Ding dong. Disappointment flashed across her face and he knew it was echoed on his own. She reached up and cupped his cheek.

  “That’s going to be for you,” she murmured.

  “Me?”

  “It’s Laila.” She slipped away from him and finished gathering the items from the table.

  How she knew, he didn’t know and couldn’t explain. What he did know was he was upset with the interruption. He walked out only to re-enter the kitchen and kiss Roxi until her curves sank into him. If he’d thought his cock was hard before, it was nothing compared to right now. Roxi’s gaze was glazed and he couldn’t help the arrogant smirk he felt flash across his face. He headed for the door, untucking his shirt as he went. He opened it to find Roxi had been correct. It was Laila.

  “Hey, Sam.”

  He ran his gaze over her. “Laila.”

  She stared at him before launching herself into his arms. He caught her instinctively and held her close. Backing up, he closed the door on the cold, rainy night. A sound from behind him had him turning his head. Roxi stood there watching the two of them before she disappeared down the hall.

  Damn it!

  Setting Laila away from him, he then led her to the sofa. She didn’t give him any room, just clung to him crying. He was out of his league. Crying women weren’t anything he’d had extensive experience with. But this was Laila. His sister in every way that mattered.

  “Is it Dean?” he asked with trepidation.

  She shook her head against his shoulder and relief swamped him. One thing off the list.

  “Is it money?”

  “No.” Her single word was muffled by his chest.

  “Laila. Tell me. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what the problem is.”

  The woman in his arms hugged him tighter. He thought back to the first day they’d met. Laila burrowed closer.

  “Do you remember the day we met? Dean brought me with him to your house. You and your mom had been baking all day.” He drew back and smoothed her hair away from red, puffy, teary eyes. “Your hair was in pigtails and you had flour on your nose, as well as all over your apron.”

  As he’d hoped, she cracked a smile at the memory. “You were surly.”

  Surly was putting it mildly. Dean had picked him up from the home saying he had a surprise for him. They’d ended up at Laila’s house. It was really Dean’s birthday celebration but he’d made the day about the kids. Still, as the odd child who’d been tossed about so often, he hadn’t been able to let down his guard. Terrance and Lenore Atkins had never seemed put off by his attitude and had welcomed him into their home with the same enthusiasm as they had Dean. Their sole daughter had been another story entirely.

  “You punched me in the nose,” he reminded her.

  “You laughed at me.”

  He nodded. “I did.” A deep breath. “What’s wrong, Laila?”

  “Do you like Roxi?”

  He wondered where this was going. “Yes. She’s a very nice person.” And oh so responsive to me in bed.

  His cock twitched at the thought and he forced himself to remain focused on Laila.

  “I see the way you watch her, Sam.”

  This time he did set her away from him. “What are you talking about, Laila?”

  She played with her necklace and refused to meet his gaze. “You stare at her with hunger in your eyes. Have you slept with her?”

  He shook his head. “Oh, no. I’m not having this conversation with you, Laila. I don’t know what’s bothering you, but you’re not about to come over here and start that kind of stuff.” Shifting so he faced her on the couch, he rested one arm along the back. “Roxi is a very beautiful woman, I’m not a blind man, Lai
la. I see her appeal.”

  “You like her.” This time it wasn’t a question.

  “Let’s say I do, Laila. So what?”

  She chewed on her lower lip for a minute. “She told me to kick Dean and the others out of the house. That you’re more my family that he is. I got so mad at her, I told her she couldn’t possibly know what it was like to lose her parents and not have family.”

  He stiffened at the mention of Dean Jr but kept his mouth shut about him. “You know that wasn’t nice, Laila. You have family. You know I’m always here for you, you know that, right? Now, you have Dean and his brothers as well. And Master Guns is gonna pull through.”

  “What if he doesn’t?”

  He swallowed hard. That wasn’t an option he wanted to think on. “We have to think positive, Laila. He’s a strong man, always has been.”

  Tears slipped down her brown face and he reached out to wipe them away with his knuckle.

  “Bone cancer is not like a heart attack, Sam.”

  “I know. Doesn’t change the fact he’s still of strong constitution, Laila. We have to be strong for him, too.” He lifted her chin with his fingers. “None of this tells me why she told you to tell Dean and his cousins to get out.”

  “I don’t like them in my home. I don’t feel welcome there anymore. And I don’t feel welcome here now, after saying what I did to Roxi.”

  “So tell them to stay in a hotel.” It felt odd saying those words, considering he hadn’t had to go to one.

  “After Thanksgiving. I can last a week.” She tucked some hair behind her ear. “You are eating with us still, right? I’ve told Dean you are. He said he’d behave.”

  “So it will be you, me, Dean and his brothers, and Roxi along with Eric?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  He grew puzzled. “Roxi isn’t here for the holiday?”

  “Oh, she is, but she and Eric don’t do a big thing for Thanksgiving. They go to a shelter and help out there, and usually eat there as well.” A shrug. “She’s done it for as long as I have known her. When she started keeping Eric for Ritchie, she naturally took him along.”

  He nodded. “Okay. I’ll be there. You know I will.” He touched her arm. “Laila, you need to apologise to her.”

  She began to pout and he shook his head.

  “No, you know what you said was wrong and maybe you should think about why her words bothered you so much.”

  “Why are you taking her side?”

  “I’m not taking sides, Laila.” He pushed up from the couch. “Now, go home and get some sleep.”

  He could see her reluctance but he refused to cave. It was late and he knew she’d be working in the morning. She needed to rest.

  She stood then threw her arms around him. “I love you, Sam.”

  “Love you, too, Laila.”

  He walked her to the door then to her porch, dashing through the rain. Under the awning he waited until she opened the door before he sprinted back across the short distance to Roxi’s house and let himself back inside. He slipped off his shoes by the door and walked in socked feet to double-check the sliding door in the kitchen before shutting off the lights and heading for his room.

  At his door, he paused, glancing down the hall to where a sliver of warm light came from the opening of Roxi’s room. He knew she slept with her door like that, habit from when she’d first started taking care of Eric, so she could hear him if he had a nightmare.

  Like she’d done for him. When you attacked her. He shoved that unwanted memory away even as a spear of fear hit him. What if he did something like that to Eric? The mere thought soured his gut.

  In his room, he swiftly changed into something dry then made his way to Roxi’s door. He knocked softly but didn’t receive any response. Sam pushed the door open and stepped in. She lay on her belly in the middle of her queen-sized bed, feet towards him and her head facing the wall. Repositioning the door to its original spot, he leaned against the wall beside it and stared at her.

  She wore another camisole and pair of lounge pants, which looked cottony soft. The pants were a pale pink and the shirt white, which beautifully offset her darker skin tone.

  “You just gonna stand there, Marine?” she asked in a soft voice, still flipping through the magazine which lay in front of her. “Or were you planning on coming over here?”

  He couldn’t stay away, so he joined her on the bed. The magazine was on boots. Different styles and types. Some of the pages had been dog-eared and he wondered if she were actually shopping or just browsing. She rested her head on his shoulder and his body immediately reacted. Like it hadn’t with Laila.

  “Get things straight with Laila?”

  “Not sure,” he replied honestly. “She isn’t having a good time right now. This is hard on her.”

  Roxi stiffened. “It’s hard on a lot of people, you can’t be thinking it’s a walk in the park, seeing Master Guns lying there, weak and sick. He was a father to you as well.”

  Resting his head on one hand, he lay on his side and used his other hand to swipe her hair off her shoulder, allowing him to see her face. Her eyes remained transfixed on the glossy pages before her. His fingers skimmed along the smooth skin of her neck.

  “He is more of a father than I ever knew a man could be to a child.”

  She looked at him. “Tell me how you met him?”

  He hesitated, his reaction instinctive to someone asking him about his past. But he was lost in her eyes, drowning in her compassion.

  “Never mind. Tell me about some of the things you and Laila did growing up together.”

  So he did, took a deep breath and began to tell her of the times he’d spent with Laila and Dean. Those magical times when he hadn’t had to be at a home where he didn’t feel like he belonged and had been able to be with the people who meant more to him than he’d ever believed possible. Even Terrance and Lenore had been important to him. Those four had taught him what a family was supposed to be like. How it should be—filled with love and support.

  Roxi pushed the magazine away and mimicked his position. She listened to his story with rapt attention without interrupting him. He could see her feelings on her face as he continued.

  The room shrank to just the two of them on the bed. Nothing else mattered. Him and her. That was all there was.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  He nodded.

  “He didn’t adopt you? All that time you spent with him and he didn’t try?”

  “No. He left so often with the Corps, the state wouldn’t allow it. He did try.” He swallowed as he recalled the places he’d been sent. “He would always come visit, though. And he came to get me, so I could attend Laila’s parents’ funeral. I was in another part of the state by that time. Older and angry. But then he showed up and I wanted to be angry with him as well, but I just couldn’t. Then he told me why he was there. I’d never felt hurt like that before.” He smiled sadly. “Her parents were so wonderful, never treated me like an outside white boy who didn’t belong. Lenore always smelt like some home-baked goods. And Terrance taught me about cars and how to fix them. Some visits, the three of us, Terrance, Dean and myself, would be out most of the day under the hood of a vehicle.”

  She trailed her index finger over his hand, now on the bed. In and out of each digit, over the knuckles—a soothing, sensual touch.

  “You and Laila learned to get over your differences?”

  He watched her touching him. “Yes. Eventually. We’re both a bit headstrong.” He lifted his shoulders in a laconic move. “She’s my sister. We’ve always kept in touch.”

  “I see that. You’re much different with her.”

  “How so?”

  “More open. She sees the Sam you hide from the world.”

  “Does that bother you?”

  “On some level, yes. But, I also know I’m not held in the same regard as Laila. You have every right to your secrets, Sam Hoch. We all have them.”

  Roxi was
right about that. She wasn’t held in the same regard as Laila. For in no way did he view this sexy woman before him in any sisterly fashion. And had no plans to do so. He captured her fingers with his and stroked them as he brought them to his mouth. Nipping the tip of her thumb, he then licked away the bite.

  “You are a beautiful woman, Roxanne Mammon.”

  “You sure you’re okay with Eric following you around?”

  Her change of topic was abrupt and he wanted to draw her back to a more intimate one but let it go. “He’s fine. Great kid.”

  “He is that. Ritchie will be here the Saturday after Thanksgiving. I don’t know what Laila’s plans are for her house guests but you are more than welcome to continue to crash here. I don’t mind. I do go back to work that week but you have a garage door opener, so that shouldn’t be a problem for you.”

  “Why aren’t you working this week?”

  “I always take off when Eric comes to see me. At least for the first week. If he’s here longer, then other arrangements are made during the day while I’m working.”

  He kissed her middle finger before sucking it into his mouth. Her lids fluttered and she took a deep breath.

  “You’re an amazing woman.”

  “And you are trying to distract me.”

  He flashed a wicked grin. “Is it working?”

  “Most definitely.”

  With a quick jerk, he dragged her to lie across his body. “Wonderful.” Then he captured her mouth in a hungry kiss, explaining all of the emotions he’d not been able to vocalise when it came to this woman. Soon, the only noise in the room was that of skin on skin and Roxi’s soft moans.

  * * * *

  Roxi smiled at the man across from her and served him some stuffing. “Happy Thanksgiving,” she said.

  With a nod, the man moved on and she cast her gaze askew to check on her nephew. He was a few people from her, serving the mashed potatoes. As if he felt her stare, he glanced at her and gave her a big grin.

  Eric was so outgoing, the complete opposite of how she pictured Sam as a child. Being shuttled from home to home, tossed out on his ear in some of the coldest parts of winter. Hell, it was no wonder the man was withdrawn and very protective of his emotions and who he chose to share them with.