Текст книги "Uncovering Desire"

Автор книги: Kacey Shea

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

THANK GOD IT’S FRIDAY. IT’S only three but I’m itching to get out of work early. I’m not the only one, either; everyone has left for the weekend except me and Teagan. It’s been an exciting week for the studio, but a long one too. Working with the band has taken everyone’s attention and time.

They are a fun group of guys to work with, but I’m glad they are in Cali for the next few days. Trent consumes more of my mind and energy than I like to admit. He’s sexy, a giant flirt, and relentless, and my attraction grows daily. He asks me out constantly and last night after a ten hour work day I finally gave in. I agreed to one date, post production of our studio work with the band because I don’t mix business with pleasure. Much. My yes only fed his ego, I know this, but his confidence is a turn on and I’m looking forward to our date. Hopefully next weekend, if all goes according to plan.

I’ve also spent a good amount of time hanging out with Alex in the evenings after work. We just click and I’m happy to call her a friend. She’s one bad ass friend, too. I admire that after all she’s been through she has this insanely positive attitude. I’m sad she’s flying back home today and I won’t get to see her. We said our good-byes last night and I shed a few tears. I hope she visits again soon.

Alex Ass Kicker: Kate? You still at work?

Well, speak of the devil. I glance from my laptop to my phone screen and see a text come in.

Kate: Yup. Still here. Unfortunately. You at the airport yet?

Kate: I already miss your face!

Alex Ass Kicker: Hey, I need you to do me a favor. Can you leave work early and check on Jon? I’m worried about him. I had to get to the airport but I didn’t want to leave him that way.

Kate: What’s going on?

Alex Ass Kicker: I feel bad texting this to you but I can’t talk right now. I’ll lose it. A comrade of ours committed suicide last night. I just found out a few hours ago.

I drop the phone to my desk. It’s one of those moments when just a minute ago I was worried about something stupid and meaningless, but now, now I’m floored by the sadness and gravity of the situation. One thought rolls through my mind: I need to get to Jon. I stand and grab my bag, and haphazardly toss my personal items inside as quickly as I can manage. Stumbling down the hall, I call out to Teagan.

“Hey, girl, I hate to do this to you but I need you to lock up. I’ve got to leave now. Family emergency.” Teagan watches my face and nods with a somber expression.

“Of course, Kate. Get out of here. I’ll take care of things. Text me if you need anything, okay?”

“Thanks, Teagan. You’re the best.” I yell over my shoulder as I race out the back door and straight to my rental car. My phone dings a few times but it’s buried somewhere in my bag and I don’t waste time trying to find it. I concentrate on driving fast and safe to the apartment. Heavy sickness settles in my gut. I need to get to Jon.

Swinging the rental into the open space beside Jon’s truck I shove the door open and shut behind me, then run as quickly as possible in my black pumps up to the apartment. My heartbeat races and I can’t tell if it’s from the adrenaline or the fear of what I’ll find inside.

I turn the key and twist the handle. “Jon?” I call inside the apartment. Nothing. An uneasiness crawls over my skin. I lock the door and throw my bag to the ground, then walk toward the bedrooms. Before I reach his door the running shower catches my attention. I pound on the bathroom door.

“Jon! Jon, are you in there?” Stupid. I know he’s inside but I don’t know what else to say. Nothing again. A chill runs down my spine and I grip the handle with a sweaty palm. I twist and push forward the door. It opens with no trouble, and inside the steam is so thick I struggle to breathe.

“Jon?” I speak gently. Nothing. I step across the threshold and that’s when I hear it. Soft crying from behind the curtain. I should give him space, but my concern overpowers any social protocols. I approach the shower and slide the curtain open a few inches.

I gasp. Oh, baby. My heart shatters into a million pieces to find my strong friend sitting hunched over on the floor of the shower. He’s fully clothed, elbows resting on his knees, his head held in hands. Water cascades over his shaking form.

“Jon.” I squat down against the side of the shower tub and reach out my hand. At my touch he jerks his head and looks through me, water splashing his face.

“I need to get clean. Kate. I can’t get clean.” He begs in a strained voice. He’s looking my way with a blank expression, and even his tone is off, as though he’s not fully present. My heart drops. His pain emanates and hits me square in the chest. “I can’t get clean.” He says it again and I have this insane need to make it better.

“It’s okay, Jon. I’ll help you.”

I stand and reach out to grip his hands in my own. I give a little pull and he stands. I kick off my heels. I’m still dressed in my work clothes and I’d rather not soak them, even though it seems we’re taking a fully clothed shower.

I release his hands and quickly unzip my skirt and unbutton my blouse. My underwear today is modest enough, simple black lace hipster panties and demi bra and he’s seen me in less, so I don’t know why I even care. I step into the stream of warm water and cup Jon’s face firmly between my hands so he meets my eyes.

“I’m here now. I’ve got you.”

It’s like he sees me for the first time and his blank face crumples in pain. “Oh, Kate,” he moans as sobs wrack his body. I move closer and wrap my arms around his waist to hold him tight to my own body. I let him cry. I’m sure he needs the release, and I won’t let him go it alone. As his sobs taper off he tries to pull back. I loosen my grip slightly and look into his eyes.

“God. I’m sorry you have to see me this way.” He tries to push me further away and I suspect his pride is the motivator.

“Hey. Don’t push me away.”

“I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“You don’t scare me, Jonathan Beltran. I like seeing you, all of you, and I’m not going anywhere.” I expect anger, a smart ass retort. What I don’t expect is those caramel chocolate eyes to meet my own, soften and fill with tears before he wraps me in another hug.

“Thank you. Thank you, Kate.” His words rasp into my ear and send chills over my body. “I feel like I’m suffocating. Like I’m covered with dirt and grime. I can’t get clean and I don’t know how.”

I pull out of his embrace and chew on my lower lip. Clean it is. I recognize something of myself in his incessant need. I can help him. I know I can. I look up and down his form. His clothes are plastered to his body and I take a moment to admire his physique. The man is hard muscle and beautifully broken.

I grip the hem of his t-shirt and reach up onto my tiptoes to peel it over his body. I glance at his expression through wet lashes. He doesn’t move or reveal anything with his serious expression. His eyes shift to study my every move. My skin tingles in awareness.

Slipping my fingertips into the waistband of his shorts, I work the top button open then slide the zipper down. The cargo material sticks because they’re soaked so I move to my knees and pull harder. I’m finally able to shift them down his hips. He steps out of them and I toss them on top his shirt.

Any other time and this position would have me licking my lips in anticipation of what remained clad in his boxer briefs, but the severity of the situation squashes most of the sexual energy passing between us. I can feel his gaze but I don’t dare look into those honey brown irises as I reach for the body wash. Working the soap into a thick lather I ceremoniously knead my hands and fingers over Jon’s chest, arms, stomach, sides. I squat down once more, and let my hands travel over his solid thighs, calves, and finally, feet. Standing again, I replenish my supply of bubbles and move behind him to repeat the process, this time starting at his thighs. He moans when I get to his neck and head. From his posture it’s apparent some of the tension has left his body.

“Better? All clean now.” I let the water rinse the last bit of soap before I reach around to shut the water. I step out and wrap a towel around my own body before I move back to Jon. He stands inside the shower, eyes downcast so I can’t read his expression. I use another towel to dry his skin.

“You don’t have to do this, Kate.”

“But I want to.”

When he’s all dry I clasp his hand and he follows me into the hall and to his room. We’ve been in the shower longer than I realized. The dim light from behind the blinds casts the room in shadows of dusk.

Jon releases my hand and walks to the dresser, drops his boxers to pull on a dry pair. The man has a spectacular ass. I shake my head and internally slap myself for having thoughts like that at a time like this. He walks toward the bed and I pull back the covers for him. He lies down and I turn to go.

“Please don’t leave.” He speaks so softly I almost don’t hear the words. I turn and when my eyes find his I’m both lost and found. Wild horses can’t drag me from Jon right now. I drop the towel wrapped around my body and crawl into the bed beside him. He turns me so his head lays cradled on my breasts and wraps one arm possessively around my waist. My head rests on his pillow under my tucked arm. I use my free hand to trace patterns through his short hair.

I feel his breathing slow and his body go heavy against my own. As he finds rest every fiber in my body screams to run. Pass go and don’t look back, don’t stop to collect two hundred dollars, just run the fuck away. His heart pulls at my own with such force it scares me. Terrifies, in fact. I swore I’d never let anyone this close. My fingers itch for my yoga mat. To feel the solid floorboards beneath me. If it was anyone else I’d be gone already. But this is Jon. My Jon. I’m torn.

As if he can hear my thoughts he snuggles in and hugs me closer, whispering, “Don’t leave.” I rub my hand back and forth along his shoulders and neck.

“I won’t. Just sleep. I won’t leave.” I watch as he falls back asleep, my racing thoughts slow enough for my mind to still. His breathing calms my own. The sensation is new and I do something I’ve never done with any other man. I drift to sleep in the arms of a man I trust.

HOT AND HEAVY. SOMETHING PRESSES against my skin. I can’t breathe. I’m suffocating. Grief hits me square in the chest and I kick and shove at the pain.

“Jon!” My eyelids snap open to find a very pissed off Kate wearing nothing but sexy black lingerie glaring from over the edge of my bed. The morning sun beats through my blinds, showering my room with light. Memories flood. Will. Alex leaving. Shower. Kate keeping watch. Sleep.

“Oh, my God! I’m so sorry.” I reach over the edge of the bed, grab her arms and pull her back onto the bed.

“This how you get all the ladies in bed? Go all caveman and drag them?” Kate offers a small smile which I return.

“I promise. I’m much more of a ladies man when I turn it on.”

“Must be one of those ‘you have to be there to believe it’ sort of things.” She giggles. We lie on our sides facing each other, and even though we aren’t touching I feel extremely bare. Vulnerable. Safe. I wonder if she feels the same.

“Thank you for staying with me last night.” I reach over and tuck a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. She holds my gaze.

“I’ll always be here for you. I’m sorry about your friend. Tell me about him.” More memories flood my mind. Happy ones.

“Will Davis. A hell of a good soldier. Skinny farm boy from Ohio. We met in boot camp and became fast friends, both eighteen, both joined to make a better life, get out of the towns we grew up in. He had this uncanny ability to make you laugh at the worst times possible. We were stationed together in Afghanistan a few years ago.

“There was this one time,” I smile at the memory, “we had to be up and out early for rotation and I’m searching for my damn socks. It was pretty dark and I was trying to keep quiet for my bunk mate who didn’t report for a few more hours. So Will knocks on the door, tells me to hurry up, then asks what’s taking me so long. I tell him and he’s like, no problem, I’ve got an extra pair in my rucksack. I should’ve known then.

“He tosses me the socks and I just throw them on, tug on my boots and report for duty. It’s once we are already outside, gathered with everyone that he tells our sergeant to check out my socks. The damn things were neon pink with little dinosaurs all over them, the words ‘You’re Dino-Mite’ printed around the tops. Shit. Everyone called me Corporal T-Rex for the next month.” I chuckle. Damn, Will knew how to pull a prank.

“He sounds like a great guy. I’m glad he made you wear pink socks.” Kate grins. I can’t believe he’s really gone. My smile crumples under the reality.

“It’s my fault,” I release in a whisper, though inside, my head screams the words. He called me two nights ago. I brushed him off. I even forgot to call him back. What if my ignorance caused him to feel as if no one cared? The reason he killed himself. Shit. I’m so wrapped up in my own life that I don’t have ten minutes to spare for one of my own. I just never thought. He was always so damn fun to be around.

“No. Don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself.” Kate pulls me from my thoughts.

“But it is… I just keep thinking. Shit. He called me, you know? Will called a few nights ago when I was on a case. And now I keep replaying the conversation over and over. I shouldn’t have been so selfish. I should’ve taken the time. Did I miss something? I should’ve known he was hurting. If I had only talked to him. If I had? He might still be here.”

With every word the anger within boils closer to the surface. I clench my hands and wish I had something to hit. I’m so fucking angry. This is my fault. I could have done something and I fucking didn’t.

“Hey.” Kate’s stern and calm voice stills the anger. “That’s enough. You didn’t know. How could you? You can’t expect to read minds. And anger and blame? It doesn’t do anything for you. So have your moment, get mad at the entire damn universe, but know deep down you can’t control this and then move on. Don’t wallow in it. It doesn’t honor the memory of the one you lost.”

Her words resonate with my pain. She knows how I feel. I watch her as the silence stretches between us. She traces patterns on the bedsheet and doesn’t quite meet my stare.

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

“Yeah. Well, when you wake up on the ledge of a mountain next to a pile of your own puke with some guy you don’t remember, wondering if you slept with him, you have to reevaluate your methods of grief.” She tries to laugh but it’s feeble. I don’t get to see this Kate, the authentic and real woman, and her pain meets my own. Pain I never knew she carries. I reach my hand out to cover hers.

“Kate—”

“Don’t. It’s fine. I’ve spent a lot of time in counseling.” She smiles before she continues, “And I’ll never forget. But I’ve learned when I do things that honor the life I lost, it brings me peace.”

“Who?” One single tear falls from her face at my question. She smiles sadly and shakes her head. The shrill sound of my ringtone interrupting. I turn and reach for it to read the caller ID.

“It’s Alex. I should take this.” I don’t want to end our conversation, but I need to answer.

“Yeah. It’s okay. I’ll make coffee. I’m not going anywhere.” She squeezes my hand and flashes a genuine smile as she blinks back her tears. She’s up and out of my room before I can argue. I slide my finger across the screen to answer Alex’s call but my mind is reeling and I wish Kate was back in my bed.

The morning flies by with incessant phone calls. I feel as though I’ve talked to every soldier I’ve ever served with and it’s not even noon. It helps, to hear their voices, to laugh about the good times, to commiserate the loss and helpless feelings, but by the tenth call I’m over it. There are only so many times I can say the same thing before it starts to feel empty.

Kate stays. As I talk on the phone she pops in with refills of coffee. She’s dressed, and damn if I’m not a little disappointed she doesn’t feel the need to prance around in her underwear all day. Phone call after phone call she sneaks into my room throughout the morning, sometimes lying next to me on the bed, others practicing all sorts of bends and handstands on my floor. It should be distracting but it’s incredibly comforting to know she cares enough to keep watch.

I end another call and toss my cell on the bed. She rolls out of the headstand she’s been holding for several minutes. I’m drained from all the talking and sharing, but she grins my way and reaches out to pull me up from where I sit.

“Come on. Break time. Let’s grub.”

“Kate, I really don’t feel like going anywhere.” I turn to reach for my phone but she’s a quick little thing and reaches out to swipe it first. She backs out the door, my phone gripped behind her, and waggles her brows.

“If you want it, you’re gonna have to come get it.”

“Kate, give me my phone. I’m not in the mood for keep-away or any of your games right now.” I’m lashing out. I know it, yet I don’t stop myself. She doesn’t even acknowledge my snarky tone.

“Be mad all you want, big guy. I know you’re in serious danger of hangry right now so I won’t hold it against you.” She’s in the hall now and prances out to the living room. I follow begrudgingly.

“Hangry? What the hell’s hangry?”

“You’re hungry and angry. It’s scientifically proven to be a real state of mind. So let’s go. Slide on those flip flops.” She’s now standing at the door in a pair of cut offs, a tank top, and sandals, with her bag and car keys in tow. It’s the most casual I’ve ever seen her leave the house. Even her makeup is understated. She’s beautiful.

“Come on, Jon, let’s go!” She jingles her keys with a bright smile and I roll my eyes, slide on my shoes and pull on a ball cap from my desk.

“Where are we going? I don’t want to see anyone today.” She laughs as I follow her out the door and to her rental.

“Don’t worry. The only people we’ll see today are hung over.”

We drive to a little hole in the wall Mexican food joint, Armando’s, and park. We walk inside, door jingling, and the smells of carne asada over an open grill waft throughout. My stomach grumbles in response.

“See. Hangry.” Kate slaps my belly before she walks up to the counter and orders while I study the menu. When it’s my turn I point to the grill, “That, inside a burrito, please.” The man at the counter smiles and rattles off our total. I reach in my pocket to get my wallet but remember I left it back at the apartment. I look up to find Kate’s already paid. She shoves a Styrofoam cup into my chest.

“Lunch is on me, Army.” We fill our cups and find a table in the back corner. Kate was right. The only people in here look like they’ve just woken from a hard night of partying. The non-intoxicated customers only stop in for takeout.

“Sixty-nine!” The man behind the counter yells out.

“Oh, that’s us!”

“You wish,” I grumble and she pauses before leaving the table.

“Jonathan Beltran, did you just make a sex joke?” She’s teasing and a smile tugs at the corner of my face but I hold it back.

“Whatever. Let’s just eat.” I roll my eyes.

“That’s what I thought.” She smirks and then skips to the counter to retrieve our food. I don’t know how she does it. The lightheartedness. I want to crawl into a cave right now and shut everyone out. I saw her eyes. I know she gets my pain. But how can she be this happy?

A tray is slid in front of me and the smells fill my nostrils. I close my eyes and sigh. This is gonna be a good cheat meal.

“Spicy or sissy?”

“Huh?”

“Spicy or sissy?” Kate holds two squeeze bottles of hot sauce. One has a single flame drawn on the front, the other a danger sign that looks eerily similar to those poison tags people put on cleaning supplies, warning not to ingest.

“I’m no sissy.”

“Hell yeah, I knew there was a macho man under that warm fuzzy cuddle bear.” I arch my brow. She’s delusional.

“Let’s have a contest. See who can handle the heat and who still can’t grow chest hair.”

“I don’t want you to grow chest hair. Your chest is perfect.”

“You know what I mean.”

As I unwrap my burrito, she unwraps hers and after I take one bite, she reaches over to squirt a generous amount of sauce inside. She does the same to hers.

“I don’t like the fact you feel comfortable enough to ejaculate stuff all over my food.” Kate coughs and sputters and I grin in triumph before I take my next bite. The sauce burns all the way to my belly. I blink back the tears that threaten. Beads of sweat gather on my forehead but I’m still grinning like an idiot as Kate can’t seem to recover.

“I think my evil ways are wearing off on you!” She takes another long sip from her drink. “But don’t think you’re out of the challenge, mister.” She continues to cover our food in sauce. Bite for bite, we go head to head while trading jokes in between. We finish our burritos, declare a tie, and my mouth is on fire. It feels good to laugh. I shake my head. She’s done it again.

“How do you do it?”

“Do what, exactly?”

“Make me smile and laugh and feel better? I’d be a mess without you, you know that?” Kate blushes, a rarity because the woman’s impossible to embarrass.

“Don’t discount yourself, Army. You’d be fine without me.” I reach my hand across the table to cover hers and gain her full attention.

“No. I don’t think I would. Don’t put yourself down, Kate. You’ve been my saving grace today. Yesterday too. Thank you.” We stand and refill our drinks before walking out into the midday heat.

“It gets better, right? Tell me it gets better,” I mutter.

“It does. But it’ll hit you in the most random ways, at the most inconvenient of times. The sadness, it never really goes away, but the peace you find more and more each day.” She squeezes my hand before she starts the car and backs out of the space.

“How about that hot sauce, though?” My weak attempt to lighten the mood earns a grin.

“You crowning me caliente champ?”

“Hell no.”

“My mouth is on fire! Cheap ice cream cones from McDonald’s? My treat.”

“Be careful, sugar mama, you don’t want me to get used to this high-class treatment.”

“That’s right, remember who wears the pants in this house—er—car.”

“I’m the one who always remembers to put pants on.”

She laughs. “Oh, shit. I forgot to charge my phone last night. You mind plugging it in?” She reaches around in her bag, eyes still on the road and retrieves it. I plug it in as she pulls in the drive thru to the first Mickey D’s we see. Ice cream cones in hand, we both moan in appreciation.

“So much better,” I mumble. The cool, creamy goodness steals the burn.

“Don’t know what it is about ice cream that takes the sting away but it works every time.” We’re back on the road when Kate’s phone comes to life and starts having a fucking heart attack by the number of messages and missed calls.

“Miss Popularity, your phone seems to be hemorrhaging messages.” She waves a hand and continues driving.

“Psh. Probably just Evie. She can get a little crazy if she doesn’t hear from me.”

She doesn’t seem concerned, but I look down to read the flashing screen displaying the last message.

Trent Rock God: So you wanna play hard to get? That’s how it’s gonna be? Game on.

Great. Apparently this d-bag is still in the picture. She can do so much better than this wanna be rocker. I’m sure he’s good at playing music, but something about him rubs me the wrong way and I know he’s not good enough for Kate. Because I want her for myself. The thought pops into my head before I can dismiss it. Fuck. More accurate than I’d like to admit. Okay, Mr. Rock God. You think you can win over Kate? Game fucking on.