“I’ve known you desire me from the day we met. You wear your need as perfume on your skin.” His thumbs started their slow circles again. “You could have taken me that day in the woods while I was mindless to get inside you. You could have allowed me to pleasure you, and no one would have blamed you.”
“You would have blamed me.” I rubbed the pads of my fingers over his rough knuckles. “And you would have blamed yourself. The first I can handle, but the second…” I broke even that small contact. “Consent matters, and you couldn’t give yours.” I cleared my throat, the skin flushing across my cheeks and throat. “I’ll see what I can do about the, ah, smell.”
A rhythmic purr filled the space between us as he covered the bracelet I wore with his wide palm, his fingers tightening around my wrist until he chained me in place. “I already told you.” His meltwater eyes thawed precious degrees. “You complement me.”
All the while a blush swept up my throat, I attempted to pinpoint what made this time different, why this felt like he was the one complementing me.
“Are you two done yet?” Santiago called from behind the plastic sheeting. “Portia’s not getting any less alone the longer you two bump gums and gods only know what else in there.”
There was no mistaking Cole’s reluctance to rise. “I have to go.”
“Me too.” I got to my feet. “I have a mission to accomplish for Wu.”
“Wu is dangerous.” His gaze dipped to my mouth as though assessing other, equally lethal risks. “Make sure you take Santiago with you wherever you go.”
“He can’t play escort. Not after this morning. Rixton would burst a blood vessel.” I held up a hand to forestall his protest. “I have to visit Sherry. Rixton has the last copy of the Orvis documents in his home office. I need to finesse that from under her nose, and that can’t happen if Rixton comes charging in like an enraged bull.”
“Be safe.” He lingered, but he didn’t add more. “I’ll see you later.”
As much as I wanted to ask how much later, I was aware of both Santiago listening at the doorway and Cole weighing the challenge he’d laid down for me. I wasn’t willing to push either. Especially since it looked like Santiago was playing backup for me while Thom kept watch over Miller.
“Santiago’s got my back.” Probably. “I’ll be fine.” I rocked a half-step forward. “Take care of —” I bit off the name I had no right to speak “— yourself.”
“I won’t let anything happen to them,” he promised me, proving one of his super powers, in addition to super strength and the ability to fly, was reading me like a book. “I won’t let them out of my sight.”
While he made his exit and said his goodbyes, I got busy securing an invitation. “Hey, Sherry.”
“Oh, God. An actual adult person. Keep speaking. Full sentences. Whole words. Come on. Talk to Momma.” Her groan lasted forever. “Did you hear that? I baby-talked you. I am losing my mind.”
“You’ve been a mom for like two weeks.” Shame sneak-attacked me that I no longer tracked Nettie’s age in daily increments. “There’s no way you have cabin fever already.”
“Let’s be clear —” She was quick to correct me. “Nettie isn’t the problem here. It’s my husband. He’s lost the ability to communicate like an adult, and I don’t think I’m telling you anything you don’t already know when I say he was iffy on the whole mature conversation thing to start with.”
“Well, it just so happens my night is wide open.” I braced a hip against the counter. “You feel up to having company?”
“I’ll even brush my hair.” She squealed. “How soon can you get here?”
“Two hours?” I had to shower and run a few loads of laundry first if I hoped to salvage my stealth mode outfit and towels. “I would offer to bring Thai over when I come, but Rixton mentioned you’re on a special breastfeeding diet. What are acceptable substitutions?”
“Pick up the Thai,” she pleaded. “If I can’t eat it, at least I can smell it.”
Poor Sherry. Responsible adulting sucked. “What about you?”
“How about a veggie plate from Pansy’s? I’ve been craving collards for whatever reason, and that would really hit the spot. Extra cornbread, please and thank you.”
We chatted a moment longer before I ended the call and started the clothes. I figured I would wash the black outfit first since I was going to have to bleach the hell out of the towels if I wanted to save them.
Leaving the boys to entertain themselves, I jogged upstairs, ducked under the shower, and started scrubbing dried blood off my stomach. Considering where I was about to go and what I was about to do, I felt dirtier when I stepped out than when I got in.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Sherry greeted me on the porch with a cooing Nettie in her arms. I thought she was coming in for a kiss on my cheek and wondered if that was a new symptom of mommyitis, but nope. She was leaning over to stick her nose in the bag from Thai-Thai For Now. After a long inhale that must have sucked half the flavor off my noodles, she straightened with a sigh. “That’s the stuff. Come on. We’ll eat in the living room like heathens.”
“I eat in the living room all the time.” Dad had enforced the oldie but goodie eat at least one meal together as a family rule when I was a kid. As far as rules went, it was a good one, but it didn’t hold up as well now that we worked different shifts. “As a matter of fact, I ate a late-late breakfast on the floor in front of my couch.”
“Scandalous.” She led me to the living room and placed Nettie in a bouncy seat she kept going with the tip of one toe. “Clearly, you’re the heathen queen.”
“I was found in a swamp,” I reminded her. “You’re lucky I use silverware instead of my bare hands.”
“Oh, please. Your lack of table manners has nothing to do with where you were found and everything to do with you being raised by a bachelor.” She patted the cushion beside her. “How about you sit next to me and blow on each bite in my general direction? I wouldn’t want you to burn your tongue or anything.”
“Will I get in trouble for exposing you to secondhand Thai?” Eyes narrowed, I clutched the bag to my chest. “Rixton is already pissed at me.”
“You’ve been acting weird for weeks then one day you’re a no-show at work, and you think he’s going to take that well?” She snorted, an utterly inelegant sound that still came out daintier than when I let one fly. “He’s worried about you. I’m worried about you.” She pegged me with a sad look. “I never see you anymore.”
“I miss you too,” I said by way of apology. “I’ll try to do better.”
“I don’t mean to guilt trip you.” She accepted the bag I passed her and dug in. “Okay, so I meant to guilt trip you a little. That’s what friends are for, right? I’m just asking you please – for the sake of your goddaughter – don’t give her father a heart attack.”
“He told you.” There was no other reason why me missing work, with or without a call, would have merited him ratting me out before he got home tonight. “About White Horse.”
“He might have mentioned finding you dressed in a cat burglar special, covered in blood, and surrounded by men of questionable ethics. He might have also mentioned the guy camped out on your couch resembled a shark bite victim.” She accepted the can of sugar-free, dye-free, caffeine-free soda with a curled lip, but it had been the least offensive option on the menu. “What he didn’t mention was if a certain hunk a hunk of burning love was there.”
“Cole —” I emphasized his name “— was not there, thank you very much.”
His earlier presence and his eventual return were beside the point.
“Mmm-hmm.” She pointed at herself then drew a circle in the air. “This is my I believe you face.”
“You’re fixated.” Pot, meet kettle. “Objectify your husband for a little while, why don’t you?”
“I would,” she agreed on a sigh, “but it’s more fun when it’s a hands-on experience.”
Eww. Eww. Eww.