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Forgiving Lies
  • Текст добавлен: 7 октября 2016, 13:17

Текст книги "Forgiving Lies"


Автор книги: Molly McAdams



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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 20 страниц)


20

Kash

“MASE? I’M HOME.” I loosened my tie and unbuttoned the first two buttons on my shirt.

“Did you tell your mom I want more banana nut bread?”

I huffed a laugh and opened the fridge to grab a bottled water. “I did. She said if you come visit she’ll make some.”

“All right. Well, I’ll see you later.” He grabbed his keys off the counter and headed toward the door.

“Whoa. Wait. What? She’s not going to make you some tonight. And you told me to get back here immediately and now you’re leaving? I only see my parents once a week and I’d just barely gotten there.”

“Yeah, well . . . I gotta go. I’ll probably see you tomorrow. Or something.”

My jaw dropped as I watched him walk out the door. I’d just spent all day in court and then missed a home-cooked meal for that? Fuck this. I’m changing and going back over there. You just don’t pass up my mom’s cooking for no reason.

Walking quickly into my room, I yanked off my tie and shirt and had begun taking my badge, gun, and cuffs off my belt when my eyes finally noticed the new item on my dresser. My heart skipped a couple painful beats before drumming quickly. My chest tightened and I had to force myself to set the cuffs down before grabbing the mason jar sitting there. It was full of Sour Patch Kids—only the green ones. I squeezed my eyes shut when I felt another person come into the room and swore that if Mason was playing a trick on me, or just trying to get me to go see her again, I’d shoot him.

Blowing out a deep breath, I turned slowly and looked up to see Rachel standing there, looking more beautiful than I remembered. Before any type of hope could fill me, the memory of our last conversation replayed in my mind and pain sliced through my chest. I hadn’t seen her in just over four months, and not one day in that time had passed without my wishing I could go back and change everything.

Neither of us said anything, we just stared at each other. But then her eyes filled with tears and they spilled over, and I couldn’t stay away from her anymore. I didn’t know what she was doing here, and I didn’t know what she wanted from me. All I knew was that I loved her more now than I had when I left, and my girl was crying.

“Rachel,” I breathed when I pulled her into my arms.

A sob hitched in her throat and she buried her face in my neck, her arms tightening around my waist when I kissed the top of her head. I breathed in her sweet scent and almost thanked God out loud for bringing her back to me. Walking us toward the bed, I sat down and pulled her onto my lap before wrapping my arms around her again. I didn’t say anything; I was afraid to. Right then, she was in my arms, and I knew how quickly that could change. So I would keep her there and try to prolong the moment while I memorized the way her body felt against mine.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and pulled away.

I started to keep her there but knew she wasn’t mine to keep, so I gritted my teeth and let her slide off my lap and to the other side of the bed.

“I—that wasn’t—I wasn’t going to cry. I wanted to talk to you, and I had this whole thing planned out that I was going to say, but then I saw you and . . . and I’m just sorry. That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

I didn’t know how to respond to what she was saying. Rachel was here, in Florida. She’d come to me. If she wanted to say something bad, she wouldn’t have come to the other side of the U.S., right? She would have called, or . . . well, she would have just continued to not talk to me.

“How are you?” It was one of the worst questions I could have come up with. But it was better than letting loose with the dozens of others I was dying to ask.

Her mouth opened but then snapped shut, and her eyes drifted to something behind me as she thought. “Honestly, I’m not okay.”

My fault. It’s my fault she’s not okay. My stomach twisted and I had to clench the comforter so I wouldn’t grab for her.

“The thing that happened with Blake, I’m doing better with. I have nightmares every now and then. But they’re really rare. I went back to work for the rest of the semester, and I decided I’m not going to enroll in classes next semester because I really only went to stay with Candice. I hate what I was majoring in and don’t want to do anything with it.” She smiled shakily and glanced at me. “And I finally visited my parents’ grave.”

“That’s great. I’m really proud of you.”

“I hated you,” she whispered suddenly, and it felt like someone had shot me all over again. “Since the phone call I made to Candice after I found out about it, I’d never told anyone about my parents. I never wanted to. And granted, I told you in a fight, but I realized after that I’d wanted you to know. I wanted you to know everything about me. You always saw through my bullshit, and you didn’t let me hide. I loved that about you.”

My eyes shut and a harsh breath left me at her use of the past tense.

“I was trying so hard to cling to the thought of you coming to save me,” she said, choking, and had to clear her throat. “When you ran into that house . . . God, I just remember thinking, He’s here, he came for me. But then it hit me what you were saying, who you were with, and I—I couldn’t even focus on Blake anymore. My heart shattered when I realized that you’d lied to me. And when I woke up, all I knew was that I’d fallen in love with a lie. You’d broken down every wall I had so that there was nothing between us, and I didn’t even know who you were, Kash,” she whispered, and wiped at a few new tears.

“Rachel, I couldn’t tell you—”

“I know. Mason and Candice told me everything. I know about the hit, all your undercover work. I know. But you should have never pursued a serious relationship with me when you were hiding something that big. And you should have never asked me to marry you. If you couldn’t give me you, you should have never asked me to give myself to you. That wasn’t fair to me.”

“I’m sorry for not telling you. But I loved you then, and I love you now . . . I’ll never be sorry for asking you to marry me.” Her eyes shut and she took a deep breath in, and before she could respond, I said the words I’d been thinking since the second Detective Ryder put West’s picture in my hand. “I’m so sorry I didn’t keep you safe, Rachel.”

Her eyes flew open. “Are—”

“I hate myself for letting that happen to you. I swore I would never let him, or anyone else, touch you again, and I couldn’t even keep that promise.”

“Kash, stop.” Her blue eyes were searching my face incredulously. “How can you even say any of that? You saved me. I owe you my life—”

I shook my head. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“Yes, I do. That’s the reason I’m here.”

I flinched. The reason she’s here is because she feels like she owes me her life? I have to live through the heartbreak again for this? Getting off the bed, I ran my hands through my hair roughly and growled as I paced, “I don’t want you to feel like you owe me shit. That was my job, Rachel. I was supposed to find him before he could hurt anyone else, not come in at the last minute and fucking save you! You should have never been there in the first place! I literally watched you walk away with a killer, and I did nothing.” I stopped pacing with my back to her, planted my shaking fists on my hips, and hung my head. “The minute I realized I was in love with you, my purpose in life changed to taking care of you . . . to keeping you safe . . . and to loving you. I failed at almost all of those, along with my job. So no, Rachel, you don’t owe me a damn thing. And I’m sorry you came all this way because you felt like you did.”

“Kash,” she said softly, “I didn’t come here because I felt like I owed you something. I meant you saving me is the reason I’m here . . . here as in alive. And I do owe you my life, but that’s not why I’m in Florida, in your bedroom. I’m here because I’m miserable.”

God, I knew how she felt.

“Like I said, I’m moving on from what happened and I’ve healed more in the last few months from my parents’ death than I did in four years. But I feel like I’m lost. I tried telling myself that you and I were all wrong for each other and that I couldn’t forgive you for what you did. I kept saying that tomorrow it wouldn’t hurt so much and tried to convince myself that you were moving on with your life because you never cared about me.”

I turned quickly to tell her how wrong she was, but she kept talking.

“But I finally realized that even with the lies, what you and I had was more real than anything I’ve ever experienced. And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t fool myself into thinking that I could ever get over you.” She licked her lips and looked at me before looking at her lap. “I told you that first night we were together that you made me feel like I was in love and terrified at the same time. And that’s still true. I’m terrified at the depth of my feelings for you. I’m terrified of how easily you can hurt me. And I’m terrified of living the rest of my life without you. I physically moved on with my life, but a part of me died each day I was away from you.”

My breathing was heavy as I stared at her. She was still looking at her lap and I needed to see her, I needed to know what this meant for us. Squatting down in front of her, I placed my hands on either side of her hips on the bed and looked at those beautiful blue eyes. “Rachel, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying I can’t live without you. I still love you.” Her words were so soft they were almost inaudible, but I’d heard, and it was all I needed to know.

I sat up and crushed my mouth to hers as I laid her back on the bed and hovered over her. Her hands gripped my shirt and she moaned my name before deepening the kiss.

“I’ve missed you so much,” I whispered against her skin, and sucked on that sensitive spot behind her ear. “Forgive me, Rachel.”

Her breath hitched as I made my way back to her lips. They trembled against mine and I opened my eyes.

“Babe, why are you crying?” I brushed the tears away and held her face in my hands.

“I don’t know.” A sound that was half laugh and half sob left her. “I feel like I’m being ridiculous right now, but I’m just happy. I feel like everything is right again. God, that sounds so stupid and cliché.”

“You’re not being ridiculous.” I kissed her forehead before brushing my lips against her cheek to catch more tears. “And you’re right, that is pretty cliché.” She laughed and pushed against my chest. I just smiled and kissed her nose. “But I feel the exact same way.” Pressing my lips to hers once more, I rolled to the side and pulled her so she was facing me. “My name is Logan Ryan, but everyone calls me Kash,” I said, and she laughed softly. “I was born and raised in Tampa Bay, Florida, and for almost four and a half years now I’ve worked in law enforcement. I’ll be twenty-six soon and don’t have any siblings. I’ll do just about anything for pancakes and green Sour Patch Kids.” She smiled and I stroked her jaw with my thumb. “And I will do anything to make sure I never lose you again.”

“My name is Rachel Lynn Masters, I’m twenty-one, and I’m from Yorba Linda, California . . . formerly known as far West Texas.” She winked and wiggled closer to me. For a few moments she just looked at me before taking a big breath and laying the rest of it out there. “I don’t know what I want to do for the rest of my life, but I know that whatever it is, I want to do it with you.” Closing the distance between us, she kissed me softly and spoke against my mouth. “I forgive you, but no more lies.”

“None.”

She leaned away and propped herself up on an elbow. “I’m serious, Kash. Not even the forgiving lies to save me from getting my feelings hurt. If I ask you if my butt looks big, you can’t lie.”

“Woman, you barely even have an ass. That was the worst example you could have used.”

Rachel grinned wryly and launched herself at me. Rolling so she was on top of me, I pulled her close and kissed her deeply. She groaned when I nipped at her bottom lip and I reveled in the taste of her.

I’d missed everything about her, and I wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of the night worshipping her body, but I couldn’t believe that she was even here, and I didn’t want to push anything. Forcing my hands to stay on her hips was damn hard, but she was calling the shots right now.

She dragged her teeth against my jaw, and my fingers flexed on her hips. She laughed low before whispering in my ear, “I need you. Now. Stop holding back.”

No need to tell me twice. I flipped us over so her back was to the bed, grabbed the bottom of her shirt, and yanked it off her body. My hands went to the button on her jeans and my mouth went to her right, lace-covered breast at the same time she pulled my undershirt off me and attacked my belt.

Worshipping her was going to have to wait until later. I didn’t have the patience for that just yet.

I finally got the button and zipper undone and had just started pulling off her jeans when I saw it and I wanted to die. “God, Rach.” My body froze and one of my hands slowly came up to trace the scars covering her stomach. “I’m sor—”

“Don’t. It’s not your fault.” Her hands left my hips and cupped my cheeks, pulling my head up to look into her beautifully pained blue eyes. “Okay?”

Shaking my head, I kissed the inside of her wrist and pulled it back when I remembered. I looked at the long scar running up her wrist and let my lips trail the length of it before grabbing her other arm and doing the same. “Rachel, you’re beautiful,” I said softly, and leaned down to kiss the scarred word above her left breast. “And I love you.” Crawling farther down, I kissed every inch of the scars on her stomach and vowed, “Somehow, I will make up for every mark he ever put on your body.”

Frenzied passion forgotten, I spent the rest of the night loving and worshipping every part of her.

 

Rachel

I SLIPPED OUT of Kash’s bed and tiptoed around his room looking for my clothes, which had been thrown around last night. My eyes landed on the midnight-blue button-down shirt he’d been wearing when he walked in and I shrugged into it, buttoning only a few of the middle buttons. I walked back over to the bed, kissed his cheek, and quietly walked out into the living room, shutting his bedroom door behind me.

After walking into Mason’s empty room and grabbing my purse, I pulled out my phone and decided against checking the dozens of texts and voice mails Candice had left, and called her instead.

“Mmm ’lo?”

I looked at the clock in the kitchen and figured it was almost eight in California. “Sorry for waking you, Candi.”

She gasped and I heard rustling. “No, no. It’s fine, I’ve been waiting for you to call. Tell me everything– Wait. What time is it?!” I heard her counting, “Almost eleven there? Does that mean it went well?”

A blush stained my cheeks and I bit back a smile. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“I knew it would!” she squealed. “So you guys are back together? Did you tell him you want to move there?”

“Ah, no, I didn’t exactly say those words. But I will today. I’m pretty sure from how it went last night it was kind of assumed I want to be here with him.” After searching through all the cabinets, I finally found the skillet and pulled it out, but a bunch of the pans in there clanked together. “Shit. Shh.” I winced and hushed the pots and pans.

“What are you doing?” Candice whispered, like she needed to be quiet too.

“I’m making pancakes. But Kash is still asleep.”

“Pfft. Figures. He should be making you pancakes.”

I paused with my hand on the pancake mix and thought back over everything Kash had done for me last night. “That man definitely deserves pancakes.” My voice got breathy and a huge smile crossed my face.

“Tell. Me. Everything!”

“Do I, now?” a husky voice asked from behind me.

I gasped and whirled around to face Kash, who was looking sexier than any man had a right to in nothing but a pair of gray boxer-briefs.

“Candice . . . ,” I said.

“Go! Go, and call me later. I want details! Love you.”

“Love you back.” I had barely pressed the end button when Kash pushed me up against the counter and claimed my mouth. “Morning.” I giggled against his lips when he lifted me onto the counter.

“You weren’t there when I woke up,” he said, and ran his hands over my bare thighs.

“I wanted to make you breakfast.”

“I can see that. Lie back, Rachel.”

My eyes widened but I didn’t say anything as he gently pushed me back until I was lying on the counter, my legs hanging off the end. When he spread my legs farther and I felt his breath on me, my heart instantly sped up and then began skipping beats when he hooked my legs over his shoulders.

“Kash!” I gasped and my back tried to arch off the granite when he swiped his tongue against me in one long stroke. He laughed softly against me and the things the vibrations did to me were almost enough to send me over the edge right then. My body heated and the knot in my lower stomach tightened as he continued to work me with his tongue, and just as I began shivering in anticipation, he added his fingers and my body shattered.

He rode me through my orgasm, and when my body fell limp, he gently lowered my legs, sat me up, and scooted me to the very edge of the counter before filling me with his length. I hadn’t even realized he’d taken his boxer-briefs off. I cried out and wrapped my arms around his shoulders to attempt to hold on as he teased me by alternating between slow and gentle strokes, and slamming into me hard and fast, over and over again. When that familiar tightening started low in my stomach, I begged him to go faster and growled in frustration when he would get me as close to the edge as possible and then back off completely. I caught sight of his wicked grin and vowed to return the favor. Soon. Resting his forehead against my neck, he quickened and held his pace as my fingernails dug into his back. A pleasured scream started tearing through my chest as I crashed down around him and I bit down on his shoulder to muffle any other noises I might make as he continued to drive into me until he found his release inside me.

We stayed just like that as our breathing returned to normal, and Kash peppered my neck and throat with soft kisses. “Amazing breakfast, babe.”

I laughed but quickly broke off when I felt it where I was aching from the multiple orgasms I’d had last night and this morning. “Smart-ass.”

“Go wash up, I’ll clean the counter.”

When I came back out to the kitchen, he was just about to pour some pancake batter on the skillet. Smiling widely at me, he sat the bowl back down and pulled me into his arms before placing a kiss on my jaw and lips. “We need to talk about a few things.”

I raised an eyebrow at him and wrapped my arms around his narrow hips. “Do we?”

“Now that you’re healing from your parents’ death, do you want to be in California?” I shook my head and he continued. “Then will you move here to be with me?”

“I’d, uh, already kind of planned on it.”

“All right.” He huffed a soft laugh. “We’ll start looking for a place for just us. And I want this time to be different for us, Rach. I love you more now than I did before, but I’m going to wait until I know you’re ready before I ask you again. I just need you to know now that I do plan on marrying you; that has not changed for me at all.”

“ ’Kay.” I smiled at him and wiggled closer.

“I want you to meet my parents . . . today or tomorrow, it doesn’t matter, but soon. I know they’ll love you.”

My heart started racing and I nodded my head against his chest.

“Every day for the rest of our lives, I want you to spend the mornings in nothing but my shirt.” I laughed and he tightened his arms around me. “And we really need to talk about getting you on birth control. Because after last night and this morning, I don’t know how I could ever go back to using a condom with you.”

“But I am on birth control.”

He jerked his head back and tilted mine up to look at him, his brow furrowed. “Then why am I always wearing one?”

I shrugged. “Neither is one hundred percent effective, and since Candice was always with guys I made her use both so she wouldn’t have mini Candices running around. I guess my own argument just followed me.”

His scowl deepened. “Do you want to marry me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to have kids with me?”

“Someday,” I whispered.

“Do you ever miss taking your pill?”

“Never.”

His gray eyes turned silver and the heat in them warmed my body. “Bed. Now. We’re never using condoms again.”

“Pancakes?” I argued miserably.

He turned off the skillet, put the batter in the fridge, and pointed in the direction of his bedroom. “We’ll make them later. Go.”

“But—”

“Woman, I just found out that you’ve been on the Pill this whole time. Right now I’m struggling not to spank the hell out of you. Last time I’m going to tell you.” He leaned in close and ordered gruffly, “Bed, Rachel. Now.”

Goose bumps covered my skin and a pleasant shiver made its way through my body as I turned to leave the kitchen. I’d barely made it two steps when his hand came down across my butt, which was still covered in his shirt. “Whoa!” I yelled, and covered myself with my hands as I turned to face him. “Ow! That hurt, you jerk!” I went to smack him but he caught my hand and smiled as he kissed my palm.

“Don’t lie, Sour Patch, you enjoyed it.” When he lifted me up, I automatically wrapped my legs around his hips and let him walk me back to the bedroom. “And you’re gonna get another one for making me take you to the bed.”

I didn’t even try to argue. The way his heated eyes mixed with that arrogant smile I’d fallen in love with made for one delicious combination. And I decided right then that I liked this side of Kash.


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