Chapter Twenty-Two
Ember
I held the steaming white mocha in front of me with both hands, savoring the way it warmed my skin to nearly burning but not quite. It hovered just along the line of comfortable—kind of like how I stood with Josh right now.
We’d been home from New York for three days, tiptoeing around each other. That was one thing about moving in together; when we fought before, we could just hang up, cool off, and talk later. Now, we did this awkward dance around the refrigerator and pretended things were semi-okay.
“Have you looked into plane tickets? They’re ridiculously expensive,” Luke said, thumbing through his dig packet at the table in front of me.
“No,” I answered, my own packet untouched.
Could I even go?
“Well, you’d better start looking. We report in two months.” He sipped his latte, looking at me over the brim as I spun my ring with my thumb. “Okay, what the hell is wrong with you, Red?”
“What? Nothing. Shitty few weeks.”
He nodded. “How is Flyboy adjusting to being home?”
I took another sip, using the time to construct my answer. “He’s okay. Struggling, but that’s not really a surprise, right? He was almost killed. His friends were killed. There’s going to be some residual damage there.”
“Okay, well, how are you adjusting?”
My eyes flew to his. “No one’s really asked me that.”
“Why the hell not? Your fiancée was almost killed. Your friend was killed. You’re on nurse duty twenty-four seven, and the only reason I even snagged twenty minutes of your time is because I drove all the way up here from Nashville while Flyboy is at physical therapy.”
I sat, stunned for a few seconds. “Because Josh is hurt. I’m fine.”
“Apparently.” He rolled his eyes.
“What? I am. I’m just thankful he’s alive. That’s all that matters.” Wanting more than that made me selfish, self-absorbed. Josh’s healing, including when he was ready to talk, was all about him and his timeline. “I stupidly pushed him to talk,” I admitted.
“And…”
“And I feel like he talks to everyone but me.”
“Your other friends having the same trouble?”
I shook my head and picked at the Starbucks sticker on the cup. “Paisley and Jagger are big on open communication. Grayson and Sam, too. Maybe we’re the only dysfunctional ones.”
“Therapist, maybe? Couldn’t hurt.”
“Yeah, because Josh is going to sign up for a therapist. He already shot that idea down. At least he has to go for a psych screening this week, and that’s just so it checks the box for his up-slip.”
“He wants to get back to flying already?”
“Yep. I guess it’s a get-back-on-the-horse thing.”
He nudged my packet toward me. “And what about your own horse? Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you haven’t even looked at the information.”
“Timing sucks now,” I said in a voice that was weak to my own ears.
“Ember. You chose to go for your PhD. Remember? Studying for the GREs? Applying to the dig? Tell me you’re not going to let that all go.”
“I… Everything is a jumble right now.”
He nodded and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his pale blue polo. “This is the one year they’re letting PhD students for anthropology start in the spring, and that’s only because the dig is school-sponsored. If you don’t go, I’m not sure you’ll be able to get in this year. You’ll have to wait.”
“I can’t just leave him. Not when he’s hurt.”
Luke gave an exaggerated sigh. “Okay, well, at least take the packet and keep thinking on it. Selfishly, I’d love to have you there with me.”
“I know. I want to go, Luke.” Just the idea made my fingers tingle at the possibility of unearthing new relics, new art, new pieces of history from a civilization long-since dead. But leaving Josh in two months? His body was healing quickly, too quickly for my comfort, really, but his mind? Could I leave him for two months? “But there’s nothing I won’t give up for Josh. We’ve been through too much together for me to not put him first right now.”
“I respect that, I do. You two have this epic kind of love. Got it. But just remember, it’s your future, too.”
He was right, but what kind of future had me leaving Josh at a time like this?
“It stopped being just my future a long time ago, Luke. It’s us, now. Josh and me against the world—that’s what we’ve always said.”
“And does he see it that way?” he asked. My eyes narrowed, and he threw his hands up, palms out like he was under arrest. “Hey, I’m trying to help, I swear.”
“Of course he sees it that way. Josh is the least selfish person I know. He’s always put me first. He’s always been whatever I needed no matter what it costs him. I’m just trying to be the same for him.”
His expression softened, as did his voice. “Look, I’m just saying that if he’s shutting you out, it’s because he’s either scared of what he’s not telling you…”
“Or?”
“Or maybe he’s trying to push you away.”
The taste of coffee went sour in my mouth. “He wouldn’t.”
“Even if he thinks he’s not what’s best for you?”
Well, shit.
“Trash is out.”
Josh walked unsteadily into the kitchen as I popped cinnamon rolls into the oven the next morning. “Thanks, babe,” I said, my forehead puckering, “but I could have done that. You need to sit.”
He shook his head and smiled at me. “I didn’t want us to miss pickup, and besides, PT said I could walk on it yesterday.”
I snorted. “She said you could get off crutches but you had to take it easy.”
“The kitchen is easy.”
“The couch is easier.” I motioned to the living room with my head. “Save up your strength for Arizona, since we leave in ten days.”
“Only if you come sit with me.” He stepped forward, pinning me against the counter.
“You’re making it difficult for me to move.” A smile crept into my voice as I looked up at him. God I loved him, so much that my heart ached, stretched to max capacity. I’d taken what Luke said to heart yesterday, ignored the sting in my soul that Josh had confided in Jagger and Paisley but not me, and focused on proving to him that I wasn’t going anywhere.
Everything else could come in time.
“Maybe I like where I have you.” His smile was blinding, his eyes clear of shadows, as if my Josh was shining out from behind his war-ravaged exterior.
“Maybe I like being here,” I said, my hands slipping beneath his Under Armour T-shirt. I barely suppressed a groan at the feel of his abs beneath my fingers. Even after everything he’d been through, the man had a body that needed to be molded, sculpted, adored by the public…or maybe just me.
His eyes darkened. “December,” he whispered. He hadn’t touched me since West Point, and after nearly five days, we both radiated some pretty intense sexual tension.
My lips tingled and parted, my body recognizing its match and becoming hyperaware. His hand left the counter and shifted to my waist, squeezing lightly. I ran my nails down the skin of his stomach, and he sucked in his breath through clenched teeth. I loved that sound. I loved all of this really, the anticipation, reveling in the fact that this man was mine in every sense of the word.
My fingers traced the soft elastic of his board shorts, then dipped past the waistline and tugged, bringing him flush against my stomach. He was already hardening for me. I ran my thumb down his length and was rewarded by a low moan. Standing on my tiptoes, I brushed my lips against the stubble on his jaw. “What’s on your mind?”
“You,” he answered. “Thinking about the first time I had you pushed up against a kitchen counter.”
“Breckenridge,” I whispered.
“It’s the pajamas,” he said, his hand cupping my ass through the flannel.
“Hey, you said movie marathon. I vetoed pants.”
“Oh, babe, I am most definitely not complaining.” He looked down at me, two little lines appearing between his eyebrows.
“What?”
“There was a little something different,” he muttered, then lifted me with one hand and deposited me onto the counter. “That’s right.”
“Josh! You’ll hurt yourself.” I fought back a small laugh.
“Worth it to see that smile.”
“Now all we need is tequila, and we’re good to go. I think that may have eased my way into snagging you.”
He shook his head slowly. “The tequila wasn’t necessary. I was already intoxicated by you.”
Well, if my panties weren’t ready to drop before, they were now. “So you wanted to kiss me?” At this height, I had perfect access to his neck, and I took it. He smelled delectable, straight out of the shower, and tasted just as good as my tongue ran along the sensitive patch of skin just beneath his ear.
His hand shifted to my hair, his fingers tunneling through the mass to hold me to him. “Fuck yes. It was the first thing I thought of when I picked you up that night. Kissing you had been on my list of life goals since high school, right up there with the other things I’d never get to do like snorkel in Bora Bora, or race my Ducati again.” He tugged gently, pulling me back so he could look into my eyes. “You are a flesh-and-bone wet dream, and you owned me the first fucking moment my mouth touched yours.”
“And now?” My eyes dropped to his lips. “How does the reality compare two and a half years later?”
“So much better.” He brushed his mouth over my cheek, feathering a kiss to my ear. “If I had known just how sweet you’d taste, how perfectly you’d fit against me with your legs around my hips, how incredible it would be to sink inside you, hear my name on your lips…your dad would have come after me with a shotgun in high school, because I would have chased you, freshman or not.”
“I would have let you catch me, especially if I’d known this was where we’d end up.” I locked my ankles behind his back, bringing him even closer against me.
A wicked smile flashed across his gorgeous face. “Oh, I knew it. Why do you think I stayed away? I was bad enough news for you then, I’m not sure I would have had the decency to say no if you’d asked me to touch you.”
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I looked into his eyes, nearly losing myself in their depth. “Touch me now.”
He didn’t pause, just launched into a kiss that curled my toes. My thighs tightened around his waist as his tongue consumed my mouth, tangling with mine. It was open, hot, carnal, and by the time he pulled away, his breathing was heavy, and I was ready to wish away my pants, and his.
“You get better every time, and if you keep it up, I’ll be dead by the time I’m fifty.”
“We wouldn’t want that,” I teased and pulled him down for another kiss, arching against him. Damn, his kisses were addictive. I took another, and then another, until my hips started rocking against his, and he groaned.
He wrapped his casted arm around my back while his hand caressed the skin of my hip just under the waistline of my pajama pants. A wave of desire hit me, turning my blood to lava as he put his mouth to my breast over my shirt, tugging lightly on my nipple through the material. Thank God for braless days. “More,” I demanded.
He chuckled, and then sent his hand into my panties. My hips bucked when he grazed my clit.
“Fuck, baby, you’re so wet already.”
I made some kind of mewing sound in answer as he plunged deeper.
A beep sounded outside, breaking through the haze of lust he had me wrapped in, followed by the sound of rushing air of pistons releasing.
“Down!” Josh yelled, sweeping me from the counter.
We crashed to the floor, my head bouncing against the fiberglass of his cast as he tried to cradle me, my hip taking the brunt of my fall. He caught my top half, landing on me, and immediately blocking out the daylight.
He’d covered me head to toe, his arms bracketing my head as I lay there underneath him. Our breathing was heavy, coming in short bursts. I couldn’t get enough air with his weight on me. My heart crashed against my chest, hammering a rhythm of confusion and fear.
“Josh?” I asked, slowly raising my arms to his back. He sucked in ragged breaths, and I stroked up and down his rib cage. “Baby, it’s okay,” I whispered.
He picked his head up, his eyes scanning my features in a panic before flinging himself off me. His back crashed against the cabinet, and I sat up slowly as he pulled his knees forward, resting his elbows on them. “Are you okay?” he asked, barely meeting my gaze.
My hip throbbed, but the rest of me seemed no worse for wear. “I’m perfectly fine.” I slid over to him, slowly lifting my hands to his arms and moving to his face when he didn’t flinch away. “It was the garbage truck.”
He nodded. “I know.”
“What did it sound like to you?” Where did you go?
“An RPG.” His eyes squeezed shut. “The pistons…”
The throbbing in my hip moved to my heart, where another piece broke for him. “Okay,” I said as I stroked his cheeks.
His eyes shot to mine, wide with incredulousness. “This isn’t okay. I basically threw you off the kitchen counter.”
“Well, at least I know that if we’re ever in danger, you’d shield me.” I forced a smile. “You could have just left me up there to fend for myself, and then we’d really have problems.”
He huffed, then laughed. Mission accomplished. “God, I’m so sorry. That sound… I just reacted.”
“I don’t blame you.” I held my breath and tiptoed across a line I’d never been allowed to before. “After the first deployment, did you talk to anyone? After you were wounded?”
He shook his head. “I did the mandatory psych eval, but no. I was fine in their eyes, so I didn’t need to.”
I couldn’t help but wonder how much more was buried under his surface, left lurking like some forgotten powder keg just waiting to ignite with the right flame. Hell, Josh’s whole world was in flames.
Except me.
“I think you should talk to someone,” I said quietly.
He shook his head. “If this is about me talking to Paisley…”
“It’s not,” I promised. “That’s a whole different can of worms, and until you’re ready to open it, I’ll try to be respectful. While we’re on that subject, I’m sorry for the way I reacted in New York. That was a lot of shock, and more than a ridiculous level of jealousy. What’s going on in your head is your business, and I don’t have a right to pry. If talking to Paisley, or Jagger, or the random guy at the gym makes you feel better, then you should take advantage of it. I only want what’s best for you.”
He cupped my face with both hands, the fiberglass of his cast rough against my cheek. “You are what’s best for me.” He looked away with pursed lips.
“You have your ‘but’ face on.”
A small smile quirked his lips. “Butt-face, huh?”
“You know what I meant. But, what?”
He looked me over like it was the last time he might see me, his eyes wide and vulnerable with a fear I hadn’t seen since we’d broken up in Colorado.
“Josh, you’re scaring me.”
His face fell, and a soft smile graced his lips. “No. No, don’t be. It’s just that you’re the best thing for me. You’re my fucking sanity, the only solace I have, but right now, I know I’m the worst possible thing for you, December. You should run, not walk, the hell away from me. At least for now.”
“No,” I said, pressing my lips to his clammy forehead. “Never. There’s nothing you could do or say that would make me walk away from you, Joshua Walker. Not now, not ever.” I leaned back so I could see the little flecks of gold in his brown eyes. “Once upon a time you promised to be my whatever. Do you remember that?”
“I could never forget.”
“Then remember this. I’ll be your whatever. Whatever you need, whenever you need it. I’m strong enough to pull us both through this.”
“You shouldn’t have to be. You shouldn’t have to bury your friends, and deal with my nightmares, and get pulled to the ground. This wasn’t what you signed up for.”
I lifted my left hand. “I signed up for you, and everything that comes with you.” Reaching onto the counter, I grabbed his cell phone and handed it to him. “But it would sure as hell be a lot easier if you would set an appointment to talk to someone.”
He took the phone but didn’t dial. “They’ll take my wings if I go to a shrink.”
A defeated breath escaped my lips. “Okay, then at least schedule your eval. It’s supposed to be this week, right? So we’ll be clear for leave next week?”
He nodded and started to dial.
It wasn’t what he needed, but it was a start…and I’d take it.