I frowned again, confused about what I was seeing. Jerking my chin at the plates, I asked, “What is that?”
She cocked her head to the side. “Dinner. What else would it be?”
I moved closer to her. “I figured that, but what I can’t figure out is where you got them from?” As far as I knew, the motel didn’t have a restaurant and I didn’t recall one being close enough for her to casually go out to and carry two hot plates back from.
“I cooked them.” She answered me as if I’d asked her the stupidest question.
“Darlin’, we’re staying in a motel with no kitchen and I’ve never heard of kitchens just being conveniently available for people to cook dinner at, so forgive me if I’m a little confused about where or how you cooked our dinner.”
Understanding dawned on her face as he made an ‘O’ with her lips. “Oh, I see what you mean. I thought you might like a home-cooked type dinner so I asked the motel owners if I could use their kitchen. They’re this sweet older couple and they said yes.”
I thought you might like a home-cooked dinner.
I hadn’t had a home-cooked meal in longer than I could remember.
My mind kicked into gear and I remembered our phone call from earlier in the day. “Steak or chicken,” I murmured.
She frowned. “Yeah, we went with steak, remember?”
A home-cooked meal.
“Havoc?”
I blinked.
“Steak was right, wasn’t it?” she asked. “I could swear you said steak.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I said steak.” My voice was as gruff as my emotions.
She smiled and it lit the fucking room up. “Oh, thank God, because I don’t have it in me to go back and cook more shit for you.”
I was still trying to gather my thoughts. “You don’t like cooking?”
“God no! I might be a waitress, but serving food and cooking it are two different things. And besides, I don’t want to be a waitress forever.”
“We could have just gone out for dinner, babe.”
She paused for a moment. “Yeah, I know, but I figure if you’re always on the road, it must be ages since you’ve had a meal cooked for you. I thought you might like a change from fast food.” She gestured towards the two plates. “We need to eat before this goes cold.”
For the next ten minutes, we ate and I did my best to keep my emotions in check. Carla prattled on about some shit, but I hardly paid attention. For a woman who didn’t enjoy cooking, she sure as shit knew how to cook. The food was delicious. But wrapped up in all that food were thoughts and feelings I didn’t want to touch.
My mother.
Kelly.
Devastation and betrayal.
Hope.
“Are you okay tonight? You seem off.”
I focused my attention back to Carla who stared at me with open-concern.
Placing my utensils down, I nodded. “Yeah, I’ve just got some stuff on my mind.”
“You wanna talk about it?”
Pushing my chair back, I stood. “No. I’m gonna have a shower.”
Before she could say anything else, I headed for the bathroom.
I needed some space.
Closing the door behind me, I pulled my clothes off and turned on the shower.
Silence.
Peace.
“Havoc.”
The door pushed open and I found myself staring at Carla as steam filled the tiny room.
“Not now,” I rasped, desperate for her to leave me be.
She didn’t.
“Yes, now,” she snapped. “I cooked you dinner. I went to some trouble for you. And while I don’t expect cartwheels and cheers of thanks, a simple acknowledgement would be nice. Just to know you at least enjoyed your dinner would be good.”
She rambled and the tangled strands of memories in my mind threatened to suffocate me.
Good.
Bad.
Unfinished business.
I can’t do this.
Not again.
“Havoc!”
I snapped.
Closing the distance between us, I pulled at the dress she wore. A moment later, it lay on the floor, along with her panties and bra. As she opened her mouth to speak, I pressed a finger to her lips. “Don’t speak.”
My voice betrayed the jagged emotions gripping me, and her eyes widened. She gulped back her words and remained silent.
I dragged her into the shower with me and pushed her up against the tiled wall. Lowering my mouth to hers, I tore a kiss from her lips.
Fuck.
Every damn time.
Calm washed over me when she was in my arms. The fury that lived in my soul eased during those moments and brilliant light flashed through my mind. The kind of light that gave a man hope.
Hope that I didn’t want to feel, but that I could no longer deny.
Because it burst through me every single fucking time I was with her.
She began stroking my cock while I kissed her, and I groaned.
How can one woman make me feel so fucking good?
How the fuck can she come into my life and break my resolve so easily?
I deepened our kiss as my hands moved over her body. Unable to decide which part of her I wanted to touch the most, I chose to touch her everywhere.
Our mouths never left the others.
Our hands worked frantically to give each other pleasure.