Zane gazed on me tenderly. “I’m not sure.”
We shared a look I thought was subtle, but Whitney exclaimed, “Oh, you two are so cute.”
Jamie trailed out of the kitchen, appearing sticky, but satisfied, licking his fingers.
Zane put a hand on Jamie’s shoulder. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” They took off down the hall.
Whitney and I simultaneously sank into the couch cushions to enjoy our ice cream sandwiches and chuckled about our similar reactions.
“Jamie is a doll. He told me all about fishing.”
“Oh, I’m sure he did.”
I nudged her. It would seem I had an instant comfortableness with anyone Salvetti, although I wasn’t sure if that was her last name. “I think he has a crush on you.”
She put a finger on her chin as if considering this. “He might. He only asked me to marry him three times.”
I laughed. “Oh, my gosh.”
She nudged me back. “I told him I wasn’t old enough.” She twisted toward me. “Maybe I shouldn’t say this but, you guys are really good together. I’ve never seen Zane this happy.”
It made me warm. “He makes me happy, too.”
“Are you sure? Because Jamie explained to me all the intricacies of the fire escape and said Zane visited it.”
I laughed. That kid. You never knew what would come out of his mouth. And he was so observant. “Oh, that was simply a misunderstanding.”
“Well….” She hesitated. “I know Zane can…lose his cool and spout out things he never should say, but he’s really a great guy.” She cast her gaze down for a moment. “I may be a little biased, because I’m his sister, but….” We smiled. “But really—even before he made it big—Zane was always good to me and Tatum. I mean, you couldn’t have a better big brother. He would go to bat for us, and he took a lot of shit to save us from having to. And now, I mean, you’d think most guys would leave and never look back, but he calls us—even when he’s on the road—to check in on us. And I know he’d drop everything if we ever needed him.”
I squeezed her arm. “Speaking of which, I’m really grateful to you for coming at the last minute, and driving all the way up here. And—”
She patted my leg and stood. “No problem. I didn’t have anything going on and the drive was over before I knew it. Do you want me to take your wrapper?”
“Oh, thanks.”
Zane reappeared. “He’s getting his pajamas on.” He rubbed Whitney’s hair as she passed then stuck his hands in his pockets.
Because he was so near, I couldn’t stand to not touch him, so I stood and went to him. Without precursor I put my hand on his cheek and kissed him.
He drew me into a hug, one side of his mouth turning up. “You really like it when I sing to you, don’t you?”
I brought my lips to hover over his. “I really do.”
He started to take the kiss deeper.
“You guys are too cute.”
We broke apart, but left our arms around each other. Jamie ran out in his red flannel jammies and latched onto us
Zane chuckled. “Don’t you look dapper?”
“Do you think those might be too hot, buddy?” I didn’t even know where he got them from. They should have been with his winter clothes in a storage container under his bed.
He smiled at us. “Nope.”
It was one of those moments my love for him squeezed my heart. He had gotten really sick with pneumonia when I was nineteen. I blamed myself for not getting him the nutrition he needed. Money was tight. The medical bills were what forced me to move in with Brad. I could still remember Jamie lying—so tiny in this huge island of a hospital bed—on a ventilator with tubes running out of him everywhere. I could hardly even find a spot to touch him without being afraid of disconnecting something. I sat for hours brushing back one lock of hair from his pale face. I never felt so alone. Ever since then, every day with this boy with the big heart was precious to me.
“Okay. If you say so.”
Zane rubbed my biceps. “I should probably take Whitney back to the hotel. I’ll take a quick shower and hurry right back so we can…hang out a little longer.”
“Sounds perfect.”
“Whitter, you have to leave?” Jamie sounded so sad.
Whitney crouched beside him.
“Man. I didn’t get a nickname until I was with him all morning,” Zane interjected.
She smacked his leg before saying to Jamie, “I do have to go now. I’m tired, aren’t you?”
“No,” he said mournfully, staring at the carpet.
Whitney ruffled his hair. “I bet you will be when you climb into bed. I had a great time with you tonight.”
He threw his arms around her, almost knocking her back. She wrapped him in a hug, then looked at us with a smile, but wet eyes.
“Hey now. If it’s okay with your sister, I’ll come back again and visit you.”
“You are welcome anytime.”
“See. I’ll come back, and you can show me the capital building like you talked about earlier.”
He brightened. “Really?”
“Yeah. It’ll be awesome.” She straightened. “It was really nice meeting you, Grace.”
I stepped over to give her a quick hug, too. “It was nice meeting, you, hon. And thanks again. Oh. Wait. I didn’t pay you yet.” I searched for my purse.
“No, I got it.”
I found the purse and dug around in it. “No. Remember what I said, no man pays my way.”
He took my purse and held it out of reach. “Darling, I was paying my way. To an evening alone with you.” He kissed me. “And it was worth every penny.”
I frowned. I could tell this would be a problem. He started to move back and I jerked him to me by the suspenders. “We’re talking about this when you get back.”
Whitney leaned in. “Ooh. I see fire escape time in your future.”
Jamie nodded vigorously. “That’s the tone she takes.”
We all laughed. I straightened Zane’s tie. “Hey. My doorbell doesn’t work so I’ll leave the door unlocked because there’s a chance I won’t hear a knock.”
“Okay.” He bent in to whisper in my ear. “I’ll hurry back.”
When the door closed behind them, I gave a huge sigh.
“You like Zaner.”
I looked at him sideways. “I do. You like Whitney.”
We turned to head to his bedroom. “She’s pretty.”
“Yes, she is. And very nice, too.”
“Very nice.”
When we got to his room, his winter clothes box was out and was rummaged through. He purposefully got those pajamas out to impress Whitney.
Zane
After my shower I changed into different jeans and a thin, soft, black sweater. My eyes were tired so I took my contacts out and put on my glasses, the trendy, nerdy kind. I rushed so I could stop and purchase a few things before returning to her place.
When I got back, I could hear Grace reading a story to Jamie. I was tempted to join them, but decided it might get Jamie wound up again. So, trying to be as quiet as possible, I went into the kitchen, opened a few cabinets to get what I needed, and took the stuff I purchased at the store out on the fire escape. It was a beautiful night and it was less likely Jamie would hear us there. When she came into the kitchen I was ready.
“You’re back.”
“I am. Is he asleep?”
“If not, I’m sure he will be soon. The only thing keeping him awake was the fact he wanted to talk about Whitney. Did she tell you she was proposed to?” She crossed to the window. I was sitting on the sill. When she got close, she saw it. “What did you do?”
I smiled. “It’s been a while since we ate, so I grabbed some stuff. How’s the ankle?” I helped her through.
She inhaled. “This is amazing.” That was overselling it a bit. I had cheese, crackers, some summer sausage and grapes on a plate. I picked up a candle and flowers, too. It did look nice with the candle ligh
t. “Oh, and the ankle’s amazing, too. It hardly even hurts anymore. That wrapping job you did worked miracles.”
I helped her to sit on the near side of our “table” then lowered myself across from her, in the corner. “I couldn’t find a vase, so I put them in a tumbler. I hope that’s okay?”
“They’re so pretty.” Tears were in her eyes. She’s warned me she was a crier, but a little cheese and crackers hardly seemed a reason to get emotional. Her face was ethereal, set aglow by the candlelight. She was so pretty. “I don’t think I own a vase.” She didn’t own a vase? That Brad guy must not be much of a romantic. “I am hungry.”
“Good. Oh, they didn’t have Magner’s so I got you Angry Orchard? The guy said it was their most popular brand.”
“Oh, that’s great. I’m not real picky.”
I popped the top and handed it to her. “I wasn’t sure if you liked wine. Oh, and Whitney did tell me about the multiple proposals. She said she’d send us an invite.” I held my bottle out to clink it against hers and took a long pull. “She couldn’t stop talking about Jamie, either. Then she called Tatum, our other sister, and alerted her to the YouTube footage. The guys texted, too. Dex saw it and texted the other two and, of course, they needed to rib me. Told me if I broke my neck doing shit like that, they’d be out of work, so knock it off. Although Rafe did say he was glad I was able to put the chair thing to good use.” I chuckled. “Those guys are hilarious at times.” I took another drink. “Dex, though…I’m not sure he’s going to make it in the group.”
“Oh?”
“I was thinking…the only way he found that video is he was watching our other video. From the concert.” Her brow was furrowed, not seeing the connection. “He’s a little too into you for my liking.”
She almost choked on her drink and had to wipe her mouth. “What? Dex is?”
“Yeah,” I growled. “He and I are going to have a come to Jesus moment.”
“Oh, stop.”
“Seriously.”
“You guys seem pretty close, from what I read in interviews.”
It was weird to think she read interviews about me. “Yeah. Especially after Devin’s death.” I wondered when the pain of that would lessen. I stared off over the parking lot, leaning with one knee bent, my arm resting on it, back against the railings. I’d never forget that night. Finding him. Losing it with Rafe.
Her voice was soft, but it startled me. I guess I lost track for a moment. “That must have been difficult.”
Difficult didn’t even begin to describe it. “Yeah.” My voice came out strained. I took a drink to cover it then tipped my head back, resting it against a rail. “Devin was the closest thing I had to a brother. He, Rafe, and I grew up together. Jericho’s Rafe’s cousin.” I looked at her. “But you probably already knew that.”
She nodded with a small smile.
“You would have liked Devin. Everybody did. He never…let life get him down. Happy-go-lucky. The opposite of me, really. I guess we balanced each other out.” The one year anniversary of his death was approaching. In some ways it felt like forever ago, in some ways, like yesterday. I glanced at her.
She was leaning forward, arms folded on her knees, staring at the candle.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Hmm?” She took a deep breath. “Of course.”
“You never said how your parents died.”
She straightened slowly. “It was a home fire, started by a gas leak from our water heater, somehow. The investigators thought my mom was a secret smoker…”
She stared at the candle again, seeming to get lost for a second.
“You and Jamie weren’t home?”
“No. We were there.” She kept nodding. It was like each bob was repeating her words over and over again. We were there. We were there….
My God.
When I sat shocked and not sure what to say, she continued.
“We were asleep one instant, the next all hell broke loose. Flames were swallowing up my home even as my eyes opened. My dad was screaming at me to get Jamie. He was in a panic. He couldn’t find my mom. I’d never seen him frightened before. Ever. He always was so strong, bigger than life. But that night…he seemed small and weak, fragile. That’s what scared me the most. Not the fire destroying everything, or the heat and not be able to see through the thick smoke. It made a place so familiar to me a foreign battlefield. But what frightened me to the bone was to see my dad like that….” She shook her head.
“Oh, babe.”
She hugged herself. “I got Jamie out, but he kept following me back in. It all happened so quickly. No neighbors showed up to hold him back until later…after….” Her mouth hung open, her gaze fixated on the flame in front of her. It was like she was that little circle when a video is buffering, spinning over and over in the same spot, never getting anywhere.
I lifted my arm. “Come—”
My speaking jarred her awake. Her head snapped up and words spilled out of her mouth. “They said the explosion shook houses blocks away.”
I blew out the candle and shoved it, the flowers and food out of the way to create more room for her. She came to my side. I simply held her, not knowing what to say. She didn’t cry. Didn’t move at all, other than running her hand along the inside of the forearm nearest me. “I tried to get to them. I…I saw them. Heard them scream before the second explosion. I woke in the hospital.”
The scar I saw in her shop. It was from when she went back to try to save them. My heart broke for her. I squeezed her as close as I could, kissed her hair, fighting back my own tears. We went from one of the most fun nights of my life to opening old scars, making them bleed fresh.
In the quiet that followed, my own Hell replayed in my mind in broken snatches. Finding Devin on the tour bus, wide-eyed, the needle still stuck in his skin, Rafe passed out on the seat across from him, snoring with his mouth hanging open, slumped against the wall, his arms hanging loosely by his sides. Watching as they pulled the sheet over Devin’s face. I lashed out at Rafe, who was already feeling like shit, and I knew a part of me still blamed him, even though, in my head, I knew it wasn’t his fault. The pain needed somewhere to go because I couldn’t contain it all. It was too deep and immense. No one ever supported me like Devin did. Loved me like a brother. Could make me laugh when I felt like crying. I still missed him to the core. His loss struck me at odd times. A word, a phrase, a drum stick, could take me back to that night. That sucking hole left when someone you love is taken from you, she knew that, too.
The moonlight was strained by the grid design of the metal staircase, trying to reach us, but melting away before it could. She jumped, hearing it before I did. Jamie was crying out. Was he dreaming about the fire, too? My heart raced. She got to her feet. “It’s okay. This happens sometimes. Let me calm him down. It won’t take long. I’ll be back. You won’t leave, right?”
Her eyes were so wild and beautiful. I found my voice. “No.” I jerked my chin toward the window. “Go to him. I’ll be here when you get back.” Didn’t she know I would fight anything that tried to pry me away from her?
She left without saying anything else. My head lolled to the side. After a few minutes, I got up and cleaned the fire escape. When she came back, I was putting the leftover food back in the refrigerator. “Are you done? Did you want any more?”
“No, I’m good.”
I finished putting it away and closed the door and she came to me. I brushed the hair away from her face then cupped it. “Are you all right?” She nodded. I kissed her. Like kissing away a boo-boo. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.” I kissed her again, softly. When I pulled away she stared at me for a moment then stretched to take my lips again.
What started off soft and tender became more heated when she slid her hands under my sweater. Something about the way she kissed me was unlike any other woman’s kiss. It was like pressing the igniter on a grill, it filled me with heat and energy, coupled with a sense of urgency, o
f need. I wanted to swallow her, take her into me, make her mine in every conceivable way. In my head a pulse of go, go, go was fighting with a voice saying no, no, no. Beyond that, there was nothing but pleasurable sensation and a deeper need for this person who was so strong, but alone. Who knew pain like my own, but was a better person for it. Who I sensed may not so much need love and comfort as deserve it. For a moment, or four or five, I pushed all resistance away and sought to immerse myself in her.
Next thing I knew we were slamming our bodies against the refrigerator, my arms braced on either side of her, my mouth feverishly devouring hers. She pushed my sweater higher, and I peeled it off, the refrain of resistance growing louder, the need to possess her parried with the need to protect her. She still had the white tank on, but ditched the jacket and wore a soft denim-like shirt over it. That found its way to the floor with my sweater. I slid my hand behind her back, smashing her to me, the tank pulled to bare her stomach so we could feel the flesh on flesh. My mouth cruised along her neck to her shoulder, teeth digging in a little. God, I wanted to take her. I wanted to take her hard, and I didn’t give a fuck where we ended up. On the table, in a chair, or even on the fire escape, with the steel biting into my skin and branding me with grid marks.
But an image of Jamie flashed into my mind, as I was sure it must have been somewhere in the recesses of hers.
Not now.
In a hopeless attempt to rid myself of that prick of responsibility I lifted her and moved her to the counter top. I brought my mouth lower, rolling it along her stomach as she held my head there, arching her back. I was so hard for her it hurt. It was as if I was in prison for ten years, rather than the guy getting a piece of ass pretty much whenever I wanted to.
She moaned softly, and my automatic response was, “Oh, fuck.”
My mouth found its way to her nipple, sucking through her tank, this time forcing a verbal response from her. “Oh, my God.”
Then it was mouths colliding. She pressed against me, locking her legs around my ass as she slid off the counter, bringing her heat to my hardness. Aware her back would take the pressure of the counter edge I circled her with one arm, placing it between us as I dipped and rose against her writhing body.
ROCKED BY GRACE (LOVE AND CHAOS SERIES Book 1) Page 12
