Joe has me sit on the counter, looking me in the eye. “You questioning my skills, Moira?”
“Oh, she was upside down too long,” Shane says. “Let her get some blood back into her body.”
Joe frowns at his brother.
I purse my lips as I smack Joe on his shoulder that I was just on. “I’m not questioning your skills, which, by the way, makes it sound like you should be in an action flick. I’m just…I’m a single-mother of two kids under the age of seven. I’m no one and I don’t have any massive secrets that need to be extracted.” Other than I’m an alcoholic. My new friend, Bit, is actually my sponsor. And I am afraid of my ex-husband, but maybe I shouldn’t be. Maybe I’m just…maybe I need to be tougher around him, not let him get to me so much.
Joe takes a slow and measured breath, but then he shakes his head. “Fine. I’ll let it go for now. But just know if your ex is threatening you in any way—”
“He’s not. I’m fine.”
Shane sighs. “She says fine when she’s really not.”
“You think so too?” Joe glances at his brother.
“What is this?” I ask then growl. “Okay, look, it’s never easy when you’re divorced. Never. So I’m not exactly thrilled when that man calls.”
Shane shrugs. “I think she’s telling the truth.”
Joe smiles, but it’s a hard grin. “There’s several patterns to deception. The trick is trying to figure out what is normal for a person versus a cover up.”
I cross my arms, frowning at Joe. “Are you calling me a liar?”
“We’re all liars. It’s just to what degree is someone lying.”
Shane leans against the counter close to me, shaking his head. “Well, I’m pretty sure Moira has a right to her privacy too, bro. If she doesn’t want to tell us—”
“But is she safe?” Joe looks at his brother then back at me, his gray eyes so dark they look black. “See, that’s what’s bothering me. She not only hesitated when you asked her if she was safe, but there was the distance. She needed physical distance from you after you asked. And she emotionally distanced herself too by calling her ex-husband ‘that man.’ Then she lowered her voice.” He looks directly at me. “I could go on and on about how your blink rate shifted, how your upper body froze, but what it means is you are hiding something. And if I find out that son of a bitch is hurting you in anyway, I’ll kill him.”
Shane holds his palms up to his brother. “She’s got it. Jesus. Over-protective much?”
Joe blinks and glances at his brother. “Well, wouldn’t you kill him if you found out he’d given Moira those bruises on her arms?”
Shane glances at me and I feel like an idiot for wearing a tank top. The bruises are now a light shade of green and yellow. He tilts his head, and I can’t help but cover myself from his inspection.
“Enough,” I holler, almost as loud as Liv might. Jumping down from the counter, I turn on Joe, pointing a finger at him. “Fine. I just wanted to eat cold macaroni and cheese because I’m starving, but fine. You want the truth? Okay, Tony got really weird when he dropped off the kids. He’s never hit me before. Never. Sometimes, when we were married, he’d do this thing that scared me with yelling too loud and standing really close to me, his arms waving around. But he’s never hurt me. Ever. But he was so…weird because I’m being so…I said something to him I’ve never said before.”
I glance at both brothers as they’re listening to me, wrapped in whatever I’m about to say, and I do the terrible thing of just spilling it all out.
“I—Tony was annoying the shit out of me, remembering when we were married, happy times, saying things—well, I was annoyed and pissed. So I said—I made a cheap comment about how he fucked around on me. It was low and I’m not exactly proud of myself for saying it. But I did. And he got…weird.”
Shane takes a step closer. “What do you mean by weird?”
“He held me. Kind of gripped me hard. So, yes—” I wave at my bruises. “Yes, he did this. But he’s never hurt me before and I don’t think he will again.”
“Unless you happen to say something about him fucking around,” Joe says slowly.
I shake my head. “It was a seriously cheap shot I took at him. But I think it was an accident anyway.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Shane’s voice goes a little high. “Are you fucking defending that asshole for grabbing you?”
Joe holds his hand out at Shane. “No, she’s just defensive. It sounds like she’s defending him, yes. But she’s just defensive now.” He looks at me. “I’m going to teach you how to defend yourself, if he ever gets grabby again.”
I shake my head, but something clicks. “Oh my god, you did all that—basically accusing me of lying, getting me pissed—just so I would tell you the truth?”
Joe shrugs. “Shane’s right. You have a right to your privacy. But if your ex is hurting you, then, sorry, fuck your privacy.”
“Shit.” Shane’s shaking his head. “You were seriously good at what you did, weren’t you?”
Joe smugly shrugs once more.
And I’m so pissed I…I’ve heard the term seeing red, but it always sounded so exaggerated and I didn’t believe it. Oh, but I am. My vision is blurry and the edges are a shade of crimson.
I’m fisting my hands before I know what I’m doing.
Joe glances back at me, wincing when he takes me in. He rakes a hand up the back of his head. “Listen, bro, can I have a few minutes with Moira. I seriously need to apologize now.”
Shane looks at me, and—god help me—I’m about to cry. See, this is why I hate getting mad. Instead of sounding tough or mean, I cry, which I know is interpreted as weakness. Tony would think I was manipulating him with my tears. But I don’t know how to turn them off and on like that. I barely cry any longer. After I was humiliated by finding out how many people in this small town knew of my husband’s affairs while I’d been clueless, I think I cried myself out. Except if I’m angry like this.
I blink the sting in my eyes away, trying to think of something logical to say. “I owe you money for watching—”
Shane shakes his head. “No way.” He does something I would have never expected and rushes toward me, taking me in his arms. “Your kids rock. I loved hanging with them.” He leans away, probably noting how stiff I am, but he tries to smile warmly. “I’ll do it again next Wednesday. Bit said something about her needing you every Wednesday, so I’ll be here next week, okay?” He hugs me again, utterly shocking me. Then he whispers, “Take it easy on him. He can’t turn the Army off yet. He will. But not just yet. And I’m glad you told us that it was a one-time thing that your husband grabbed you. I was going to try to find him tonight and beat him with a baseball bat. I still might.”
I wiggle and give myself enough distance to scowl at him.
He smiles. “Kidding. Kind of.”
“You can’t—”
“Sorry, Moira.” Shane smiles and kisses my cheek sweetly. “But once my mom locks you in a room with our father while they’re going through an ugly divorce, once you’ve seen the very worst of my family, including me, then that makes you part of it. And Joe and I protect what’s ours.
“Oh, and one more thing, your ex can’t hurt you ever again. He fucked up. Once. But if he touches you again like this—” he points at my arms, “—well, it won’t be good for him.”
“What are the two of you?” I point at Shane then Joe’s chests. “The Wyoming mafia?”
Shane kisses me once more on my cheek and starts to walk backwards, glancing at his brother with a cocky smile. “A low-paid English professor and a former soldier—we should start a mafia ring here.”
Joe shrugs. “Got nothing better to do.”
“No luck with the jobs today?”
Joe shakes his head.
“Well, you’ll find something.” Shane nods. “If not, we’ll figure out a life of crime.”
Joe smiles as Shane walks himself out of my house. The instant Joe glance
s back at me his grin dims. He looks down at his big boots. “Hate me?”
17
“Of course not,” I say, but my voice is raw, clipped, angry.
He stands to his full height, looking like a god in the middle of my kitchen. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you?” I’m near where my daughter runs circles around the table and I understand the feeling, needing to race, to push myself to my physical limits in order to somehow remove this terrible feeling of anger. Only, I’m not just angry. There’s something old and familiar with this sensation. It’s past resentment I have for my mother, for Tony. It’s surfacing now—the feeling that I’m powerless, that I’m going to have to do something against my will. Or have already done something against my will. I clench my teeth. “Don’t ever manipulate me like that again.”
He looks at the distance between us. About ten feet. Sighing, he nods.
“Don’t give me that resigned nod.” I’m trying so hard to sound strong, but I hate how my voice is cracking and I’m close to tears.
“What do you want from me?”
“My dignity back.”
He takes a step closer, reaching out. “Moira, I never meant to—”
“Of course not. But fuck my privacy, right? You’d do that again, wouldn’t you? Because you thought I was some victim who was lying to you about my ex-husband hurting me.”
His jawline tightens.
“You wanna know the ironic reason why I didn’t tell you about Tony, other than I was having a hard time wrapping my head around it myself?” I wait and he slowly nods. “You might have been joking, but the death threat to the father of my children wasn’t that funny. You painted me in a corner, where, yes, there was a part of me that wanted to tell you. It—Tony scared the shit out of me. I wanted to talk to someone about that. And I—you—but—”
He’s wincing now, closing his eyes, shaking his head. “I see your point.”
I swallow, and the age-old pain within dims a little. I shrug, not able to look at him any longer now that I feel my anger diminishing. “And I see yours, Joe. The point you were making. We don’t know each other.”
He glances up, frowning. “What do you mean by that?”
“We’ve known each other less than a week. You wouldn’t know that Tony’s never hurt me before. And you don’t know that as shocked as I was Tony did that, I’d call the cops if he ever treated me like that again.”
He shakes his head, looking even more angry.
“What?” It’s obvious I’m running out of patience with the tone of my voice.
After crossing his arms, he says, “I—yeah, call the cops. But…what if I’m here? He wouldn’t do that to you if I was here.”
“You can’t be with me every second of the day. I—”
“What if he knew about us? What if the whole goddamned world knows about us?”
“I’m not ready—”
He sighs loudly.
Anger’s running through my body again. “And tell the whole goddamned world what, exactly?”
“That you’re mine now.” He thumps at his chest.
“We’ve known each other for less than a week, Joe.”
In a couple steps he’s there, right in front of me. “Tell me you don’t feel it. Tell me this doesn’t feel special. Tell me how even though it’s too fucking fast, it’s so fucking good. Tell me if you’ve ever felt this way before.”
I sigh. “You’re right. I’ve never felt this way. Ever.”
He reaches out to touch my arm but stills, his hand in the air. “Moira, I—what I feel for you is—this is so good, baby. And I’m being a jerk, I know, being pushy and arrogantly thinking that if your husband knew about me—about us, then he’d—I don’t know what the fuck. I’m being unreasonable and crazy and I can’t seem to stop myself. It’s killing me, baby, that I fucked up, that I—I never meant to take away your dignity.” His voice cracks. “Because I love that about you, how you’re, you know, filled with grace. Shane could probably say it better, but—”
I shake my head, tears threatening, and place a hand on his heart. “No, you’re saying it perfectly.”
He holds my hand on him, looking in my eyes, giving me a lopsided grin. “I’m not, but thanks.” He takes a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, Moira. About forcing you to—to tell me something you felt uncomfortable talking about, and I see it now, how you probably don’t want the father of your children killed.
“But there’s a part of me that feels so—I can’t think straight when I imagine him grabbing you, scaring you. I can’t—but for you, I want to be more logical. And I’ll fucking try. Because I want to be there for you. Not just to be your protector. But I want you to call me to watch your kids. I want to be here when you need to talk to someone, even though I can’t guarantee I’ll be the best listener. But, fuck, I want to do that for you.”
He might not think he’s good at sharing his thoughts, but I’m pretty sure he’s perfect. I reach up, caressing my palms against his whiskered cheeks, pulling him down while I spring to my toes. We kiss for a long moment, just holding our lips to each other’s, Joe slowly wrapping his big arms around me. He lifts me, and I link my legs around his hips. He’s growing hard, and I can’t help but slide my tongue against his mouth. He opens for me and, with our tongues gliding against each other’s, he turns and walks us through the kitchen then down the hallway.
“Joe?”
“Moira,” he whispers then bites my neck.
I lean my head back but manage to say, “Can it be my turn again?”
“Yes, baby.” He’s licking my lobe, turning me on fire.
“Can I…tie you up tonight?”
He stumbles a little as he walks into the bedroom but recovers quickly and with a big smile. After licking his lips, he says, “Yeah.” Somehow, he shuts the door behind us, locking it too. All this while he’s holding me. That shouldn’t turn me on so much. But it does.
Joe always turns me on, even when he’s frustrating the living hell out of me. The thing is, I really do see his point. If roles were reversed, I’d probably use whatever method I could too, including secretive Army training, to find out if he was safe or not. Maybe I should have told him from the beginning about Tony getting rough with me. After all, Joe is the one man I do trust. Even if I don’t know him all that well.
But it’s the not knowing him all that well that scares me. I never saw the red-flag warnings about Tony. Others did. I often wonder how much Eva knows about Tony because whenever I bring him up, it’s like she wants to tell me something. But she doesn’t. And I worry I’m being naive and gullible again.
Joe sets me down, swallowing, holding my hips. “How do you want to do this?”
This is why I trust him so much in such a short amount of time. He lets me lead. Maybe I am being gullible, but never having something like this before makes me feel…powerful.
“Get naked, please.”
He groans, bends his head down as if he’s going to kiss me but stops, letting me take control. “I love the please.”
I smile. “I know. I say it just for you.”
He unbuckles his belt, whispering, “Fuck.” As he’s lifting his t-shirt over his head, his dog tags sliding along his bare chest, he says, “I need to watch my mouth. Language. Sorry.”
That’s another reason why I trust him. Tony’s never apologized. For anything, let alone for cheating on me. Not once. It makes me wonder if he thinks fucking around is his due. Or if he thought I should just put up with it. I’ve never fully understood Tony and the way he never apologizes or why he fucks around.
What maddens me is how, even now, I over-apologize to him. If my heating bill is higher than it was last year, I say I’m sorry. The price for Gymboree, the price for coloring books, the price for water softener—I always say I’m sorry, even if I’m paying five cents more than usual. But he won’t say he’s sorry for making a mockery of our vows.
So when Joe says he’s sorry for swearing, just for swearing, and
he also apologized for making me talk about Tony…well, besides making my body boil with desire, my heart is also very affected. It’s beating rapidly and squeezing hard because I know how much I like Joe. It’s probably too much already.
I take Joe by the back of his head, forcing him down to my lips, kissing him hard and fast. “Let me watch your mouth for tonight.”
He smiles against my lips. “What do you want to do to my mouth?”
I smile too. “What won’t I do to your mouth.”
He softly chuckles.
I step away and look him over. “You’re so…” I shake my head, letting just the tips of my fingers glide over his wide shoulders.
“Tell me.” His voice is rough. Just the way I like it.
I bite my lip. “Looking at you makes me wish you were already inside me.”
He moans.
“You’re so handsome. Is that a good word? You like it?” I look up at him.
He nods once. “Yeah.”
I touch him over his heart again, feeling him hammering against me. “Beautiful.” I glance up into his eyes again. “Can I call you that?”
“Is that how you feel?”
I nod.
“Then, yeah.”
“You’re not offended?”
He shrugs. “I’m turning you on. Whatever you want to call it, I think that’s awesome.”
I softly giggle, placing both my hands on his pecs. I like the feel of his hard nipples against my palms. Leaning forward, I lick one, hearing his breath hitch. In one hand, he’s still holding onto his now rumpled t-shirt. He’s clutching at it. His other hand is fisted. And he’s shaking. God, I love it when he shudders and trembles as much as me.
I’m pure liquid between my legs.
I kiss right on his hairless sternum, feeling his skin and bones. This feels so intimate. When he lets me in like this. When he lets me kiss him and fondle him without telling me what to do. I bite his pec, just on the side, which makes him chuckle for some reason. Then I slide his jeans’ top button through the hole, unzipping him too. I push down his boxer briefs and pants, so excited to find him. His hard cock springs out, pointing straight towards my stomach.
Awake: Book 3 of the Wild Love Series Page 17
