Salvaged

by Jay Crownover

  “You only recently got out of a long-term relationship that had a very complicated ending. The last thing you need is to start another one that has a nearly impossible beginning.”

  I was out the door and headed toward my car when he called my name once again. I told myself to keep going but my feet stopped moving of their own accord and once again I was looking over my shoulder at him. He was standing in the doorway, shoulder braced against the side, arm above his head with the puppy still in his grasp. I needed to memorize every single thing about that image because it was one that communicated very clearly that while my mind might not be ready for whatever it was he was offering, my body sure as hell was. My heart was caught somewhere in the middle of the two. Never had a game of tug-of-war been so complicated.

  “I saw you, Poppy. When I had no right and no reason to be looking, I saw you.” The words hung between us as I paused by the car and stared up at him. “I saw how sad you were, how afraid you were. I saw how angry and alone you were. I saw how desperate you were to hide.” I shivered and opened my mouth to respond but no words came out. It didn’t matter because he kept going. “All those things that you think make this something that is impossible to start, I saw them long before you saw me and I still couldn’t look away.” He tilted his chin up in that badass way guys had and pushed off the doorframe. “Shoot me a text when you get home so I know that you’re safe. I’ll call you if Happy needs you.” Not if he needed me, but if the dog did.

  He was gone from sight by the time I got myself into the car and buckled in. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t see straight. I sure as hell couldn’t drive, so I sat there in front of his house for a solid twenty minutes while I struggled to get myself under control.

  There was no seeking approval and begging for forgiveness because there was no hiding the faults in the dark. He had already seen them all and he kissed me anyways. Because I wanted him to and he wanted me to have what I wanted.

  With shaking hands, I started the car and managed to make my way home. I even managed to send the ordered text message to let him know I was safe and sound. He sent back a simple k that I stared at for far longer than I’d like to admit. Rowdy often texted to check up on me and to make sure I hadn’t retreated back into the void, but I’d never had a man whose lips had touched mine, who told me he saw me and was ready for me, bother to keep tabs on me. In fact, it was usually the men I was intimate with that I needed protecting from. Everything with Wheeler was so new, and that made it all the more confusing.

  Still holding my phone, I called my sister before I realized my finger touched her name. She picked up on the first ring and I wasn’t surprised that she sounded overjoyed to hear from me. I’d put Salem through the wringer over the last few years, but each day I got closer to closing that gap I’d allowed the men in my life to wedge between us. At the time I didn’t realize isolating me from the person that loved me the most was a way for them to maintain control but I saw it so clearly now.

  After returning her greeting, I blurted out, “I asked Wheeler to kiss me tonight” with no preamble or warning.

  She gasped and I heard something clatter. I realized it was the phone a second later as she screamed, “Oh my God,” but the sound was muffled and sounded like it was coming from miles away.

  “You kissed, Wheeler, as in the guy who just canceled his wedding to a raging she-beast?”

  Her voice was shrill, so I had to hold the phone away from my ear. “Um … yeah.”

  She let out a breath and I could picture her chewing on her lip and pacing in circles as she continued to fire off questions. “When did you start seeing him? How long has this been going on? Are you ready to date? You know he has a baby on the way with his ex, right?” She took a breath and let it out slowly. “Are you okay?”

  I shook my arms free from my jacket and let it fall in the center of the floor. Tonight was the kind of night that made me wish I drank. I didn’t touch anything that had the ability to lower my defenses or inhibitions. I’d done a good job of being an easy target most of my life, and I learned early on to avoid anything that made going in for the kill easier. I threw myself on my couch and stared unseeingly at my ugly popcorn ceiling.

  “I’m fine, or I will be.” That was the mantra that kept me going when giving up felt a million times easier.

  She sighed and her voice was breathless with something I hadn’t heard her direct toward me in a very long time … hope. “You wanted him to kiss you?”

  Grouchily I snapped, “Yes. That’s why I feel like I’m losing my mind. I haven’t wanted anything to do with anyone in months and months and the first guy I find myself attracted to is in the middle of a horrible breakup and impending fatherhood. When am I going to learn?” She laughed a little, which made me even more annoyed. “I don’t see what’s funny about this situation, Salem.”

  She paused and when she spoke her voice was thick with emotion. “I’m laughing so I don’t cry.” She exhaled heavily and I was the one fighting back tears when she told me, “You’ve never let me in before when you were tangled up with a guy. I always felt like you didn’t trust me to know what was going on in your love life because I left. I let you down and you couldn’t let me in. I’m sorry that you’re freaking out right now, but honestly I’ve been waiting for this phone call since I was eighteen and put Texas in my rearview mirror. I missed so much, Poppy. You have no idea what it means to me that you are giving this to me now.” No amount of laughter could hide the fact that she was crying uncontrollably. She was pregnant but her words made me doubt hormones were the sole reason behind her outburst.

  I sniffled a little and used the tips of my fingers to brush away the few stray tears that managed to escape the prison of my tightly closed lashes. “He’s nothing like anyone I’ve ever known.”

  She made a considering noise and there was a smile in her voice when she asked, “Is that so?”

  I sighed. “It scares me because my heart has been wrong before.”

  She snorted and her tone was sharp when she told me, “No, your heart was listening to what someone else was telling it to do. This is the first time it’s been able to speak for itself. Listen to it, little sister.”

  “I’m afraid of what it might have to say, Salem.” My voice shook and so did my hands.

  “That’s how you know the message is important, Poppy.”

  There wasn’t much to say after that, so I told her good-bye, promised to set aside a weekend afternoon for her so we could get together, and hung up.

  She was right that the message might be important, I just wasn’t sure I was in the right place to hear it.

  Wheeler

  I stayed up with Happy all through the night. I didn’t take my eyes off him for a second, a task that was much easier to do without the silent, unassuming temptation that was Poppy Cruz hovering so close yet just out of reach. I was pissed at myself that I got so distracted by her pillowy lips and intoxicating flavor that I forgot about Happy and his penchant for getting into things. I wanted to be the guy that could do it all, juggle all the balls: run a business, romance the girl, train the dog, be a good dad and a supportive coparent, but every time I took my eyes off one ball, they all seemed to fall. It was frustrating and infuriating because there wasn’t a single ball that I was ready to let go of. I needed to learn how to be a better juggler … like one that was good enough to work at a circus or entertain kids at birthday parties.

  After spending the night with Happy curled up at my side, dreaming his puppy dreams, which made his tiny paws kick, I knew that he was worth every headache he was inevitably going to cause and every hour of lost sleep that was going to make my workday miserable. He was so fucking cute and cuddly that I didn’t mind the other side of the bed being empty for once. There were honestly no words to describe how relieved I was that he didn’t seem to have any issues from getting into the things he wasn’t supposed to the night before.

  I felt the same way about the girl who tasted like hone
y and moved just as thickly and slowly through my blood.

  Everything I did with Poppy was slow and careful. It was thoughtful steps moving toward each other until we met somewhere in the middle. There was no rush. Everything was deliberate and done in a way that meant we could get it exactly right.

  I never considered how much of a turn-on it could be to kiss someone while not laying a single finger on them. It had been shy. It had been hesitant. It had been tentative … and then it changed. It got demanding. It got needy. It became desperate and frantic in the best way. Without the use of my hands I had to lure her closer with nothing more than my mouth. I couldn’t feel her, so I had to taste every single bit of her I could. I couldn’t hold her, so I had to keep her in place with passion and the allure of what else was waiting.

  I almost lost it when she wrapped her arm around the back of my neck. Everything inside of me was screaming that I should pin her to the counter, that I should put my hands on her pretty honey-colored skin, that I should grind the throbbing flesh behind my zipper into the sweet apex of her thighs, but I didn’t. I kept my hands to myself and gave her the kiss she asked for, the one that I hoped let her know that I was dead serious about being ready for whatever was waiting for us. She was the only thing I really felt like I had a handle on anymore … and I’d barely touched her.

  I texted Poppy to let her know both the puppy and I escaped the night unscathed and asked if she wanted me to drop him off at her place or her work. Happy was still too little to come to the garage during the day. I didn’t want to kennel him in the office and I couldn’t have him running around the shop because of all the chemicals he would be able to get into. Poppy agreed that he needed to be a little bit older and definitely better trained before he could spend his days wandering around the garage and the fenced-in lot around the warehouse. She replied that she was home, so I stopped and grabbed some doughnuts on the way over.

  She looked as tired as I felt when she opened the door. Some of the sleepiness faded as she took Happy from me, cooing at the puppy while simultaneously looking at the brightly colored box in my hand. I hefted it up. “I brought you breakfast.” I wiggled my eyebrows at her. “Tomato-free.”

  A tiny grin tugged at her mouth and I felt like I was seeing the sunshine for the first time. It was beautiful and that itty-bitty hint of happiness from her, that sliver of light that glowed from inside of her, reinforced the fact that she was worth every effort caring for her was going to take.

  “I think you’re trying to fatten me up. You’re always telling me to eat and bringing me food.”

  I wasn’t trying to fatten her up. I was trying to get her to take care of herself. I had no clue what she looked like before Rowdy and her sister brought her back to Denver to heal, but I doubted she was built like a strong wind could blow her over. The smaller she was, the easier it was for her to disappear, and I didn’t want that for her. I wanted her healthy and strong enough to withstand whatever life was going to throw at her. I wanted her to fight, not fade away.

  She put Happy down and took the box as I held it out to her. She looked at it, then up at me. She nibbled nervously on the inside of her lip before asking softly, “Do you want to come in and share these before you have to go to work?”

  Hell yes I did. I wanted that more than anything because she was inviting me in without question or hesitation, but I couldn’t. I had an appointment with a buyer for one of my higher-end builds and I couldn’t afford to blow him off or keep him waiting. He was a repeat customer, one that liked to spend money on the especially hard-to-find classics.

  “Can’t. Gotta see a man about a car. I’ll give you a call after work, and if you’re up to it I’ll swing by and we can work on getting Happy some much-needed manners.” I chuckled. “He snores and takes up more of the bed than something that small should be able to.”

  Again, that barely-there smile danced around her mouth. “Okay. I guess I’ll see you later.”

  I was going to be dead on my feet, a walking zombie, but I would play through the pain if it meant I got to spend time with her. I tilted my chin down at her and turned to go but stopped short when her fingers wrapped around my elbow. She was reaching out to touch me more and more. I wondered if she even realized that she no longer hesitated to lay her fingers lightly on me when she wanted my attention. I felt that gentle touch all the way through my body. My dick took instant notice and I bit back a groan as her eyes heated and got soft and warm. She balanced the box in one hand and reached in and pulled out a decadent-looking chocolate doughnut with the other. I brought her a full dozen because I had no clue what kind she preferred, so I covered all the bases.

  “Take one with you. You can’t go to work without some kind of boost since you were up all night.” I took the sugary confection from her hand and my gaze landed on her fingers, where some of the chocolate frosting still clung.

  The simple gesture of offering me something because she wanted to take care of me in return meant more to me than Poppy would ever know.

  Keeping my eyes on hers, I took a step closer to her, and slowly, so slowly, so that she would have plenty of time to move her hand away, I lowered my head to where it was still hanging in the air in front of mine. I heard her suck in a breath, watched the way it made her breasts rise and fall under the too-big thermal she was wearing, but she didn’t tell me to stop and she didn’t pull away as I carefully and deliberately slicked my tongue over and around her finger. The frosting was a burst of sweetness in my mouth, but her creamy, velvety skin was even sweeter. She exhaled slowly as I ran the tip of my tongue across her knuckle and down into the sensitive vee between her fingers. I flicked it back and forth and gave the innocent space a very dirty kind of kiss. The frosting was long gone but I wanted the image of what I could do to her, do for her when she was ready for it, to linger in her mind for the rest of the day. If I could make her pant and sway on her feet by simply playing her fingers, she had to know that kind of pleasure I could bring her when I got my fingers on the good stuff would be well worth the risk she was going to have to take by letting me in.

  When I was done, I brushed a kiss across the back of her hand like some kind of cheeseball. It might have been ridiculous and antiquated but the gesture made her sigh and had her looking at me like she might drop the bakery box and pull me inside the apartment so she could have her way with me.

  As awesome as that daydream was, I really did have to get to work, so pushing Poppy and letting her figure out how far she was willing to go with me was going to have to wait. “Have a good day, honey.”

  She stared at me silently for a drawn-out moment, then she shook her head quickly like she was trying to shake off whatever sexual haze I had wrapped her up in and blinked those stunning eyes at me. “You too, Wheeler.”

  I would, because it started out with her.

  I got stuck in traffic, so I ended up being late for my meeting but it didn’t matter. The car collector still picked up the ’67 Ford Fairlane and made a ridiculous offer on the Wayfarer even though it wasn’t close to being done. I was on my way to the office to mainline a gallon of coffee when I got waylaid by another visitor who was obviously from out of town but knew his shit when it came to classic muscle cars. He mentioned he was in town visiting a friend that had recently relocated and that one of the guys at the tattoo shop where I went for my work gave him my name and told him if he was a car guy he needed to see my setup. The dude was big, looked like a felon, but talked engines and horsepower as well as I did. He was driving a shitty rental but his pretty redheaded girlfriend wasted no time in telling me that she inherited a ’69 Super Bee when she and the bruiser got together. When I asked what kind of ride he rolled around in, they both cringed and he grumbled something about a bad accident totaling his car but didn’t elaborate. I was smart enough not to pry.

  The guy might have secretly scared the piss out of me but the hour and a half I spent showing him all my pride-and-joy projects was really enjoyable. It wasn’t oft
en I met someone that was as committed to bringing the old beasts back to life the same way I was. I felt like he was a kindred spirit and his girlfriend was sweet. She didn’t say much but when she did the monster of a man smiled and answered her questions thoughtfully and patiently. It was pretty clear he loved two things with equal passion, muscle cars and the girl standing by his side. He was careful with her in the same way I was careful with Poppy.

  After they left I once again went in search of coffee, the sugar rush from my doughnut starting to wear off, but was interrupted in my quest by another unexpected visitor. I spotted the Hudson long before it pulled into the lot. I paused in front of one of the bays and waited while the beautiful machine coasted to a smooth stop in front of me. Whoever took care of making the motor run was good … really good. There wasn’t a single knock or whine, which was rare for a car that still had so many of its original parts.

  I lifted my chin as the guy from before climbed out and made his way over to where I was waiting. “You’re back.”

  Once again he had mirrored aviators on, so I couldn’t read his expression but he did give a little nod. “I am. I actually have a lead on a car that I thought you might be interested in.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and narrowed my eyes. I didn’t take on special projects for profit. I wanted to sink my time and my money into cars that I felt really needed me. I didn’t want to build any kind of flashy hot rod for a weekend warrior, not that this guy gave off the entitled vibes those wannabe gearheads had.

  “I usually track down my own builds. I’m picky about what I want to take on. I usually have to work on them on the side because it’s the regular maintenance and customer cars that pay the bills. I tend to only invest my time and money into one car at a time. I’ve been babying that Wayfarer for six months.”