Текст книги "Absolution Road"

Автор книги: Rachel Blaufeld

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Aly

On Wednesday, I’d just come in from letting Maverick pee and was changing into lounge pants and a tank when there was a heavy knock on the door.

“Who’s there?” I called through the shabby wood. No one ever popped over to see me, and I feared the worst. I wasn’t even sure what that was or meant, but all these creepy movie scenes where a stranger shows up at the door and slits some lonely woman’s throat came to mind.

“Jake.”

Now in a panic of a completely different kind, I looked down at my tank, at my braless nipples poking through the sheer fabric, and yelled, “One sec!”

I ran back into my room and pulled off the tank, shoved my boobs in a black lace bra, and threw on a navy long-sleeved T-shirt. Stepping out of the gauzy fat-girl pants, I wiggled them off my ankles and stuffed my legs into a pair of skinny jeans.

By the time I opened `the door, I was breathless and certain my mascara was running from all the sweating.

“Hey, what’s up?” I asked casually, as if Jake stopped by all the time. After all, we owned a pet together.

Jake stood in the doorway, his arm propped on the doorjamb. “I was in the neighborhood. I work right by here, and I missed Mav-man.” He stepped inside and bent down to scoop up the chocolate-brown ball of fur yipping at his feet, then kicked the door closed with his boot.

I was finally able to take in the sight in front of me. There was Jake, obviously freshly showered with his hair still wet and smelling of eucalyptus, wearing a pair of faded jeans and a T-shirt that read TEAM FIZZLE over his right pec with a muscle man curling two bowling balls.

“You like it?” he asked with a wink, noticing me eyeing his shirt.

“It’s interesting. Cute, I guess.”

“Good! Because I got one for you.” He whipped a T-shirt from his back pocket, a women’s version in lime green.

“Oh, thanks. It’s like Christmas come early with you. First a puppy, now a T-shirt.”

“I’m full of surprises, isn’t that right, Mav-man?” He rubbed his knuckles over the dog’s forehead, and the puppy’s tail went ballistic.

Hey, if I were a dog, my tail would be wagging too.

“The gym plays in this cosmic bowling league. It was all part of Camper’s plan . . . oh shit, I didn’t mean to bring her up. Anyway, she was in charge of marketing up until recently, and she had this big idea to boost company morale. In reality, it was probably another way to get her claws in me another two nights a month.”

“And this has to do with you being in the neighborhood how?”

“Because you’re on the team now. Camper’s gone and we need an extra player, so you’re it!”

I shook my head, worrying my bottom lip with my teeth. “I don’t bowl. I’ve never even done it, Jake.” We didn’t have time for entertainment like that when I was growing up, and I was never invited to the bowling parties of the kids whose houses my mom cleaned.

“It’s easy,” he said, dismissing my concerns. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

He set Maverick down on the floor and tucked the shirt back into his pocket. Then he came behind me, wrapped his left arm around my waist and brought his right under mine, pulling it back. He simulated me swinging back a ball and then swung our right arms in the air, making a whooshing sound as we pretended to let the ball go.

“You’re in good hands,” he said softly. His breath lingered at the back of my neck, and I felt his lips lightly brush below my ear.

“I was literally in comfy clothes when you came to the door,” I said over my shoulder, “ready for a night in with my dog and the TV. I haven’t watched anything in weeks, and now you want me to go bowling?”

More murmuring tickled my neck. He was still standing behind me with his arms around me, his erection touching my lower back ever so gently. I bit my lip, trying not to push back into his hard-on.

“I’m taking you bowling,” he said firmly. “You can watch TV tomorrow.”

I swiveled in his arms and faced him, wanting to taste his lips all of a sudden. I’d never felt more alive. My senses were running on V8 engines like his Hummer, churning out hormones and desires I didn’t even know I had.

“Bowling?”

“Bowling.”

“Okay,” I said, giving in all too soon.

“Let’s go!” He ran his lips over Maverick’s fur, sending a surge of jealousy through me, and placed him in the crate. “Put this on,” he said as he tossed the T-shirt my way.

Without a second thought, I walked into my bedroom and swapped shirts, then threw my hair up into a ponytail.

When we stepped outside, I was surprised to see Jake’s hulk of a truck double-parked in the middle of the street with the blinkers on, waiting on us. “You could’ve been towed!” I told him as I climbed into the passenger seat.

“Nah, I knew I was only going to be a few minutes.” He slammed the door shut on my side and ran around the front, hopping into the driver’s seat.

I cut a sideways glance his way. “A little sure of yourself, wouldn’t you say, Jake?”

“Everyone loves to bowl. I knew you’d come.” As we rattled down my street, pockmarked with potholes, he teased, “Should I play our song?”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t you roll your eyes. That song is growing on me. After all, it was written about you.”

He pressed his finger against the radio screen and the Gin Blossoms filled the truck. Bravely, I reached out to push his hand aside and started pushing buttons, looking for something else. This vehicle was worth more than everything I owned, and I had no right to touch anything. What if I broke it?

“Oh, leave it!” Jake shouted, covering the display with his hand, blocking my way. He pushed the screen again, then snagged the volume knob and turned it up, sending some seventies funk vibrating through the truck.

“Oh yeah, now we can get ready to bowl. It’s seventies cosmic bowling, did I tell you? Strobe lights and a disco ball, and a few John Travolta lookalikes.”

“Oh God.” I groaned. I was so in over my head.

“I mean John Travolta from his Saturday Night Fever days, not recent.”

“Well, that makes me feel better.”

“What’s wrong?” He turned down the volume and glanced my way.

“I’m fine, just a bit out of my element.”

“You’re wringing your hands like you’re going to your death.” He said it with a pained look on his face, the small crinkles next to his eyes not happy this time, but sad.

“No . . . no . . . nothing like that. I just don’t get out much, and I feel like you’re showing me the world just with sushi and bowling.”

“Good! Well there’s more to show you, babe. Sushi and bowling are just the beginning.”

My heart melted, turning to liquid butter with those few words. Just the beginning.

Once we’d parked in the lot for the bowling lanes, Jake opened my door and took my hand, spinning me under his arm before dipping me. “Ready to bowl seventies-style?”

Nodding, I put on my game face. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

I wasn’t at all prepared for what I’d find inside the bowling alley. A disco ball did, in fact, hang from the ceiling, shooting prisms of color everywhere. A DJ was set up in the corner with oversized headphones covering his ears, spinning vintage Donna Summer into the air.

I closed my eyes and let the familiar music wash over me. Suddenly, I was a young girl at home, my mom playing this album on our old record player, dancing as she dusted her way around our small dining room. “Someone left my cake out in the rain . . . ”

A big, warm hand ran down my back and wandered up again, then tugged on my ponytail, knocking me out of my trance. “Still good?” Jake asked.

“Yep. This music reminds me so much of my mom. She loved everything from back then. The men in their polyester leisure suits, Diana Ross and Donna Summer, and the Bee Gees. Oh God, the Bee Gees. How could I forget we used to dance to this music while cleaning?” I felt a bittersweet smile tugging at my face.

“You okay?” Jake caressed my arm, grabbing my attention.

“Yeah.” I swallowed, then met his eyes. “My mom has dementia. She doesn’t remember much, and I only hope I don’t forget any of it.”

“Well, listening to music is a good way to do that. Sounds to me like you’re gonna love tonight.”

He grabbed my hand and led me to the shoe rental. After procuring the correct sizes and swapping them for our street shoes, we made our way to the Team Fizzle lanes, where Jake introduced me to everyone.

His team was split into two groups of four, eight people in total. There were five guys and three women, including me. Two of the men were trainers and even bigger than Jake. The other women were front-desk greeters, and the last two men were sales staff. Fizzle was clearly a bigger operation than I imagined, and the people here obviously adored Jake.

But there was something slightly off. Jake seemed to give so affectionately to his staff, but whenever they complimented him, he silently shrugged it off, seeming uncomfortable. We were having too much fun for me to slip into analyze mode, so I tucked the impression away to pull out later. Not willing to be pulled completely outside my comfort zone, I drank beer while the others drank something called Moscow Mules in iced copper mugs, and we all danced between rounds of bowling.

When the Bee Gees came on, Jake grabbed me in his arms, literally tossing me up in the air and then catching me. “How’d you like that, Legs?” he teased, swinging me from side to side, then dipping me like earlier. But this time, he placed a quick kiss on my earlobe afterward.

Sadly, my balls were drawn to the gutters, but Jake kept knocking all his pins down, making up for his sorry excuse of a partner. My cheeks hurt from grinning so much when we finally said good night to everyone.

I leaned my head back into the plush leather as Jake drove me home. “It was a good night, thanks,” I murmured.

Half of me was asleep, but the other half buzzed with some unidentifiable lust. Thanks to two beers, I was looser than usual, less stressed and not as OCD. When I met Jake in jail, I’d never imagined him to have this fun side. Of course, he was all flirty and seductive despite being behind bars, but there was something pensive, almost sullen, about his mood, and it seemed to follow him everywhere.

Even when I ran into him at the bar at Roman’s with Camper, there was a touch of melancholy I couldn’t put my finger on. But tonight was different. He was looser, happier, more easygoing, and I loved it.

Yet as we neared my place, some of the tension seeped back in. His face was pulled a slight bit taut, and I watched his hand white-knuckle the steering wheel. We made our way toward my neighborhood, the streets littered with college kids swaying and laughing, but when we reached my building, Jake drove right past it.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I’m looking for a parking spot.”

“Oh.”

“I thought I’d help you take Maverick out. It’s late, after midnight, and I don’t want you wandering the streets.”

“Oh.” What the heck was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I form a simple sentence? “Um, I go out at night here all the time. Really, I’m fine.”

“Not when I’m here, you don’t,” he murmured as he navigated the truck into a spot a block away from my place.

I opened my door before he could get there, but as soon as I stepped out, he wrapped his hand around my elbow and guided me to the sidewalk.

A group of rowdy guys wearing matching fraternity sweatshirts stumbled out of a building. “Hey! You two havin’ fun?” they called out, obviously drunk, barely able to put one foot in front of the other.

“Take it easy, guys,” Jake warned.

“Okay, big guy, we’re jus’ asking,” one of them slurred.

“Well, ask someone else,” Jake said firmly, and hurried me up the steps to my building. At my door, he took my key and the lead with opening it up, then turned to me. “Why don’t you stay up here and I can let the little guy do his thing?”

“Jake, this is my home, remember? We had this talk. I’m going.” I tossed my purse on the table and opened the crate, picking up Maverick and nuzzling him to my face as I whispered sweet nothings in his floppy ear.

“Come on.” Clearly Jake was back to Mr. I’m-In-Charge. He leashed up the dog and held the door open, locking it behind us. We strolled the other direction this time, away from where the drunken dudes were, and let Maverick do his business.

“I can take it from here,” I announced when we made it back to my steps.

“No such luck,” Jake whispered into my ear, then tucked a loose piece of hair back into my ponytail.

We walked in silence back to my door, Jake’s hand burning an imprint on my back, even though he was barely touching me. For the second time, he took my key and opened the door, letting the puppy loose to scurry to the corner and flop down on the rug.

“Aly.” He seized the back of my neck and pulled my lips close, almost touching his but not quite. “You don’t have to be so tough.” With each word, his lips brushed along mine, his voice a low mumble, yet reverberating throughout the room.

“I am that way,” I murmured back. “Tough.”

“You don’t have to be with me.”

I didn’t have a chance to respond as Jake’s lips landed directly on me this time. We were kissing as we walked backward until my back landed against the far wall. Jake grasped my ponytail and tugged my head back just a little, adding a tiny bit of exquisite pressure.

If you’d asked me a week ago if I thought pain could be pleasurable, I would have been adamant the answer was no. But not now, because this tiny bit of pain was delicious. Pulling back my head exposed my neck, and Jake tore his mouth away and ran his tongue all the way down my face, over my jaw and straight to my clavicle. He sucked on a spot I hadn’t realized was so sensitive as he moaned, “Aly-cat.”

My hands seemed to have a mind of their own as they slipped under his T-shirt. Up the wide expanse of his back they went, fingering each of his well-defined muscles that rippled like waves under my touch. When his thumb ran along the bottom seam of the lime-green TEAM FIZZLE T-shirt, tickling my abdomen, I tried to suck in my belly, to make it feel more muscular like the bodies he was probably used to groping.

“Stop, I like it,” he told me as his thumb continued to map my stomach. “Stop doing that.”

“Jake, wait,” I said breathlessly, and he froze. “It’s too much. I’m not ready for this. You being here, your hand up my shirt after just showing up.”

He cleared his throat and reached down to adjust himself in his pants. “I know. I’ve got to stop. I don’t want to, but I will.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” I said with a sad smile, “I don’t want to either. But this just isn’t me.”

He planted a kiss on my cheek before granting me a sneaky, gorgeous smirk. “Me either. I usually don’t stop, but with you I think waiting is going to be worth it.”

No longer melted butter, I was now full-on dripping off the plate and onto the floor butter.

“Good night. Thanks for a great time,” I told him with a smile.

“It was fun, but next time, I’m keeping you to myself. Good night, Legs.” Another kiss on the cheek, a wink and one more smirk, and he was out the door.

Aly

Thursday and Friday were quiet. I’d spent most of the time working on my caseload, running the stairs after work on Thursday. Drew showed up to run with me, and afterward, he asked if we could go eat.

“I’m sorry, Drew. I can’t. It’s not you, it’s me,” I’d said, embarrassing myself by actually using that horrible line.

Last night, I’d come home to do laundry. Leaning into the vibrating dryer in a Jake-induced fog, I almost came from the combination of the memories and the motion.

Today Jake showed up at my door with a bottle of wine and promises of takeout if I let him take Maverick and me back to his place. I’d tried not to admit it, but I’d missed him. Seeing his muscular frame looming at my threshold, wearing a pair of dark jeans and a black T-shirt, had me instantly sexually charged. I was like a dog in heat, and Jake was the stud sent to service me.

“Let me get my stuff,” was all I said. I was still wearing my green blouse and a pair of black leggings I’d thrown on this morning to work some overtime in the law library. Without a peep, I just slipped on my lined moccasins and grabbed the dog leash. I should have been annoyed at how Jake just showed up with no notice, but there was some closeness between us, a familiarity I couldn’t put my finger on. It just felt right that he stopped by. Maybe it was the dog?

Maverick jumped around the luxury truck, leaving drool and paw prints all over the backseat while I sat on my hands in the passenger seat, trying not to grab the driver and shove my tongue in his mouth.

“You good?” Jake asked.

“Yeah, I just have a lot on my mind. I’m carrying a crazy caseload to begin with, plus the whole department is working on this big case. I was working on it today.”

“Oh yeah?” Jake gave me a sideways glance.

“Actually, I shouldn’t say this, but it’s the guy you beat up. You may have seen it in the papers already. Apparently he’s being charged with several hate crimes, and my team was assigned to represent him. He maintains his innocence and his right to freedom of speech, posted some sort of outrageous bail even though he refused to pay for his own defense, and now we’re figuring out what to do with it all. My thoughts are obviously all mixed up on this one.”

“Guy’s an ass. He should fry.”

“Well, I’m somewhat responsible for his fate. I really wish he had someone else defending him. He’s making it impossible to do my job. He keeps clamming up and offers me nothing to go on when it comes to a defense. My partner, Barry, thinks he’s covering up for a woman, but I think that’s plain ludicrous. A woman? Please. He’d been dying to get out on bail, and now he finally has, but I’m afraid he’s going to go all renegade or something. Anyway, that’s probably more than I should say, and definitely more than you’re interested in. ” I let out a slow breath. “And honestly, I don’t feel like talking about him anymore. How was your day?”

“I’m here if you need me, although I’ll admit I may not be a huge help.” He shrugged. “When it comes to rules and laws, they’re not really my specialty.” This time he winked and his grin was devilish.

Geez, he’s such a bad boy. I’m in so over my head.

“As for my day, the usual. Work out, then work, even though it’s the weekend, then work out and work some more. Saturdays are usually packed, and I like to pop in and make sure everyone knows I’m around. Not all the time, but most of the time. Being with you is the cherry on top of my day.” He turned my way and finished with a broad smile.

“Really?” I asked, not sure why I needed affirmation.

“Yeah.”

“So, I don’t really do the whole gym workout thing,” I said, desperately needing a change of subject.

“Well, you do something.”

“Both eyes on the road,” I instructed, unable to take the heat of his gaze traveling the length of my body. “I run, usually the stairs at the cathedral.”

“That’s a good workout, but do you go with a partner? Doesn’t seem like you should be traipsing around there alone. Maybe I should come along? I’m big and scary.”

“I’ve been doing it for years, and lately, Drew meets me. Occasionally.”

“What the fuck?” He shot another glance my way. “The guy you were at Roman’s with?”

“He’s just a friend.” I crossed my arms in front of me like a defensive high school girl caught cheating with the football captain. Or whatever those cool girls did.

“Hey! Sorry. What can I say? I don’t want to share those legs with anyone. So, if you ever want to hit the gym, I know of one. I can get you a few day passes.” He smiled, the corner of his mouth turning up in profile.

“I’ll keep that in mind, but, seriously, you’re okay with the fact that I’m not into all that pumping iron and stuff?”

“That’s my job and my hobby. It doesn’t have to be yours, Aly.”

For some reason, my eyes filled, the tears threatening to drip down my face, but I kept them at bay. “You always surprise me, Jake. Why do you put on the whole hard-body, tough-guy thing so heavy? When inside you’re a softie?”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” he said with a snort. “I’m a hard-body muscle builder. Isn’t that what I just said, that I’m scary and big?”

He laughed loud and hard, and it was contagious. I grinned along with him.

“Don’t worry about what you do, Aly. Like I said, working out is my hobby, not yours. Just be safe, okay?”

Day was shifting to dusk as we traveled over one of Pittsburgh’s many bridges to the North Side. A pair of gargoyles stared us down from the ever-present scaffolding.

“Honestly, I just meant that you’re this big tough guy to everyone else, barreling your way through arguments or fights, but in private, you have a sweet side. The way you let me be me. I’m uptight, I don’t work out on one of those fancy machines. I meant it as a compliment.”

Jake chuckled. “Well, I don’t think I’ve ever been sweet with anyone but you. It’s new for me, so thank you. But you should know, no one has ever made me want to be sweet before. Which is meant to be a compliment to you, but also a warning that I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

His hand sought mine between the seats, grabbing my fingers and setting our entwined hands down on the center console. As we drove underneath an overpass, the fluorescent lighting illuminating our expressions, I imagined mine to be wistful when it should have been concerned.

Turning into a row of modern townhouses lined up along the river, Jake announced, “Here we are!”

Apparently detecting the excitement in Jake’s voice, Maverick stuck his blocky little head over the center console, dripping slobber all over our hands, his tiny tail thwacking against the seat, signaling he was ready to go on an adventure.

Jake parked inside a garage and hopped out of the driver’s seat, hitting the button to close the door behind us. The sight of the garage door coming down made me feel closed in, as if I were being forced into this new stage of my life whether I was ready for it or not. Needing comfort, I gathered Mav into my arms and carried him out of the vehicle, snuggled against my chest. He was my shield, my protector, my guardian angel in a situation that was suddenly scaring the living shit out of me.

“Let’s give the little guy a chance to piss before we go in. I shouldn’t have shut the garage door.” He raised the door again, and we walked out into the night. Begrudgingly, I hooked Mav’s leash on and set him down. He immediately found a bush he liked and squatted low.

Jake snorted. “Hope the little dude lifts his leg soon. All this pissing like a chick is starting to concern me.”

“Cut it out!” I said, smacking his arm playfully. “He’s fine. Actually, I read online today that it’s perfectly normal for male dogs to squat until even a year old.”

Enveloping me in his embrace and running his palm down my arm, he whispered against my hair, “Don’t always believe everything you read online, but I love that you’re reading up on our puppy.”

He guided me back into the garage and closed the door again, then ushered me through the smaller entry door to the house. “After you, madam,” he said with a mock bow, and I just laughed.

Maverick plopped down at the bottom of the steps. He hadn’t mastered stairs yet because he hadn’t needed to. Every time we left my apartment, I carried him outside.

“Come on, tough guy.” Jake scooped up the pup in one hand and took him up to the first floor, keeping him on his leash so he stayed close to us.

“How about we order and then we can have a drink out on the balcony?”

“Sure.”

“Middle Eastern good for you? Grilled chicken and salad and rice?”

I raised my eyebrow. “Do I get dessert?”

He chuckled. “I don’t think I have anything for dessert here, but how about this. I’ll get something for the next time you’re over?”

My cheeks warmed at the mention of next time, and I couldn’t form the words. So I nodded.

Jake pulled his phone out of his back pocket and ordered the food. By the way the person on the other end of the phone greeted him, and Jake barely muttered his order before they hung up, he obviously called there often.

“What would you like? Wine? Beer? Or something stronger?” he asked as he opened a cabinet of glassware in the kitchen.

It was an open floor plan, the first floor one giant great room with a gourmet kitchen in the far corner. An enormous flat-screen TV was mounted to the back wall, a dark brown suede sectional sofa opposite it, and what looked like a hand-carved coffee table sat in between.

“White’s good.” I watched Jake reach up and grab a wineglass, the back of his shirt riding up to reveal a chiseled back sloping into the waistband of his jeans. I prayed I wasn’t drooling like Maverick.

He swung open the stainless fridge and retrieved a chilled bottle of chardonnay. Once he’d filled my glass and handed it to me, he poured himself a Scotch, then wrapped his other arm around me and led me outside. Mav came along, his leash now tied to Jake’s belt loop.

The balcony faced the stadiums, both dark at the moment, but majestic nonetheless. Jake guided me toward the railing and I leaned up against it, pressing my hips against the wrought iron as I rested my forearms on the railing, holding my glass over the edge. He stepped up behind me and leaned his hardness into my back, his warmth seeping into my veins, heating me, curing me of a longing I didn’t know I had.

An elevated cable car traveled up and down the hillside in the distance, stars were beginning to twinkle in the sky, and my body was ablaze. I was afraid someone would see and call the fire department.

“Gorgeous,” I said softly.

“Not as gorgeous as you.”

Jake’s words carried in the night air as he pulled my hair back behind one ear and placed a line of kisses along my jawline. His breath smelled oaky, laced with the same mint as the other day. A fine layer of goose bumps lined my arms and thighs, and a chill rippled down my spine.

“You good?”

“Yep.”

I turned toward him, resting my back against the railing as I asked, “What about you? You good? Because sometimes when I look at you, I swear I see something that’s not all right.”