Lou jumped at the sound of Armand’s fist hitting the wall. Light from the window had him silhouetted, bits of plaster dust floating in the air around him like a halo. The curses erupting from him, however, were decidedly un-angelic. Armand seldom lost his temper—in fact she’d only seen it happen a few times in all the years she’d known him—but when he did, it was best to give him some time to cool down.
She closed the apartment door, set the pizza on the counter and her purse on a chair and pondered the fact that everything had happened so fast, she hadn’t had time to feel afraid.
We’re acting like we used to at the Broken Antler, the voice in her head said. Wading into the fray, ready to act…
The realization surprised her, and she gave a half-smile. It had felt good, freeing and sort of comfortable, like slipping on an old tatty sweatshirt.
Perhaps we need to do this more often. Be less cautious.
She considered the point until she realized Armand was done cursing. Taking that as a good sign, she went to peer through the broken window. “Did you get a look at the person?”
“No, dammit!” He grumbled as he glared at the fire escape. “Was anything stolen?”
She scanned the living room. The shelves that held their books and movies were still nicely organized, the TV and DVD player still sat on the stand. “Everything looks normal unless the thief was a neat freak and tidied up after ransacking. I’ll go check the bedrooms.”
Roxi’s room was the usual disaster so there was no way of knowing if it had been disturbed or not. Her own room seemed unchanged. The dresser drawers were shut, her jewellery box was closed. Of course, it only contained cheap costume stuff, but the thief might not have known that.
“I think we surprised him just as he broke in. Nothing’s been touched.” She called out the news to Armand.
“The bathroom.” Armand’s voice echoed down the hall.
“Sure, feel free to use it.”
“No, I mean the thief was in there.”
“Eww!” The idea of some scumbag using her toilet made her feel creepy and she envisioned having to douse everything in bleach.
When she got there, Armand was studying the open medicine cabinet. Toothbrushes were scattered on the small vanity while mouthwash created a mint green river as it dripped down the white porcelain. Below, rolls of toilet paper and cleaning products spilled from the open cabinet beneath the sink and the towels had been tossed from the drawers.
“This is the state you normally leave your washroom in?” Armand quirked a brow at her.
“No, definitely not.” She planted her hands on her hips as she surveyed the disaster. “Why would someone trash the bathroom?”
“Looking for prescription narcotics?”
“If so, they’d be disappointed. All we had was some over-the-counter pain killers and cough syrup.”
“Hmm...” He went to examine the fire escape once more. “Why this apartment? The lower ones would have been easier to reach and provide a faster escape.”
“The other apartments had better windows?” She joined him noting how the thief had only had to pull on the rotted frame and the security grate had come out regardless of the lock on it. So much for her checking the locks each night!
Armand crumbled a section of the wooden frame with his hands and made a sound of disgust. “Go pack a bag. It’s not safe for you to live here.”
She blinked. “And go where?”
“You can stay with me.”
“What about Roxi?”
He hesitated before replying. “She’ll have to come too, if she has nowhere else to go.”
“For how long?”
“What do you mean?”
“Armand, I appreciate your concern but you’re here for a visit. I can’t stay in your hotel room indefinitely.”
“I—”
She held up her hand, not letting him speak. “If I’ve learned anything, it’s that it’s important to face your fears as soon as possible. Running from a bad experience just allows it to build up in your head. Right now, I’m not scared. Shocked, surprised, pissed off about the mess in the bathroom, but not scared. And I’m telling myself that lightning doesn’t strike twice. I’ve joined the ranks of the break and enter victims and now my turn is over. The thief knows there’s nothing to steal here so he won’t be back.”
“Lucy…”
“Armand, you are not telling me what to do!”
He clenched his jaw, his nostrils flaring as he glared at her. Clearly his temper hadn’t returned to its usual calm state.
She fixed him with a hard stare of her own.
Eventually, he sighed. “Fine. You can stay. However, I’ll remain here as well.” He folded his arms and got that implacable look she’d seen on him so many times before. “You don’t even have a window. It’s a sure invitation to anyone who happens to look up.”
She opened her mouth to speak except he shook his head and continued.
“I understand facing your fears, but you need to consider mine. I wouldn’t rest easy, leaving you alone tonight.”
She imagined herself in his shoes and then conceded. “Okay. But just for tonight.”
He cocked his head. “Will it be such a hardship, having me here?”
Oh damn. She’d been trying to stand on her own two feet, but it would seem she’d taken it too far. She tried to backpedal. “No, of course not! I’m sorry. I—”
“Never mind.” He shook his head and headed to the door.
She followed him. Was he that offended that he was leaving? “Where are you going?”
“To talk to the building manager. I want to make sure he orders a new window tonight so I can supervise it being installed tomorrow.” He picked up the pizza and handed it to her. “Can you reheat this while I am gone? Maybe we can still salvage something out of the evening.”
Left on her own while Armand talked to Jimmy–she’d love to be a fly on the wall listening to that conversation—she popped the pizza in the oven and gathered plates, napkins and two cans of soda. As she worked, she considered their conversation.
Had Armand been hurt by her words? Given his size, people sometimes assumed he had a protective wall around his feelings that matched the muscles protecting his body. But feelings weren’t like that, she knew that all too well. When he returned, she’d make sure he was aware she really did appreciate his efforts.
Since he still wasn’t back, she changed into a t-shirt and yoga pants, let her hair free from the ponytail she wore for work, and then began to look for a movie for them to watch. No sappy romances but maybe an adventure? Or a comedy? She loved to hear him laugh. The sound was big and genuine and full of life, just like he was.
The smell of pizza was drifting through the apartment by the time Armand returned carrying a piece of wood, a hammer and some nails.
“To cover the window until the new one arrives,” he explained and then quickly went about fastening it in place.
“Jimmy’s ordered a new one already?” She questioned him as she took the pizza from the oven.
“Yes, he was very accommodating.”
She had little doubt about that. Armand could get this look in his eye that had you automatically doing as he asked without even realizing it.
They settled down to eat their delayed meal and watch the movie she’d selected. It was nice, sitting beside Armand, discussing the pros and cons of the plot. When it was finished, the conversation shifted to her plans to become a counsellor and he told her about the changes he’d made to the Broken Antler.
“After upgrading the kitchen, I renovated three of the extra rooms upstairs and installed bathrooms. There are only the Kennedys’ cabins for out of town guests to stay in so I decided there was a market.”
“That was a good idea.” She curled her legs up onto the couch and turned to face him. His accented tones were soothing; she could listen to him talk for ages. “What else have you done?”
“Well, I hired Daniel’s band to play a few nights a week.”
“Daniel has a band? That’s nice.”
“Yes, he and a few of the locals. They play…” He paused. “Folk rock? I think that’s what they call it.”
She nodded. “I can see that suiting him.”
“The customers enjoy it. And Bryan is watching the bar while I’m gone.”
“He’d be good at that.” She shifted to lean her head against Armand’s shoulder and softly sighed. In her mind, she could envision each person he spoke of, each change he’d made to the Broken Antler. The bar had been like her home.
“Are you all right?” He placed a finger under her chin and tipped her head so their eyes met.
“Yes. Maybe a bit homesick.”
“You don’t have to be. You—”
“No.” She pressed her fingers to his mouth, not wanting to be scolded yet again for her choice. “Don’t go there, Armand. Please? At least not tonight.”
He hesitated and then nodded, though she could tell he wasn’t pleased.
Trying to soften the mood, she reached up and pulled him closer. “Let’s just enjoy our evening.” She ended the comment with a kiss and then a laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“Your beard.”
“You don’t like it?” He reached up and stroked his whiskers.
She examined him critically. “It tickles but it’s a good look for you trimmed like this. Better than the bushy beard.”
A crooked smile twisted his lips. “That’s what Ryne said.”
“Ryne really said that?”
“I believe his exact phrase was that I looked like a wild man.”
“Well,” she chose her words carefully. “As I recall, you used to be pretty furry. This is a more civilized style.”
“Being ‘civilized’ can be very constraining.” He made a face. “However, if you like it, I’ll keep it this way.”
“Oh no, you need to like it, too. You can’t live your life trying to please other people. If it makes you feel good, if you’re happy, that’s what matters.”
“Really? Well then…”
He cupped her face in his hands and studied her intently, his gaze drifting over her features before he slowly leaned closer stopping mere inches away. Electricity sparked in the small gap that separated them, her heart beating faster.
“Making you happy is what makes me happy.” He breathed the words, his lips brushing hers.
On a soft exhale she returned the kiss, pulling him closer, savouring the taste of his lips, the warmth of his body pressing her backwards, the woodsy scent of his cologne.
The sofa creaked as they moved, not made for a man of his size to stretch out on and, with a frustrated grumble, he pulled back. “Merde. This is not going to work.”
“My bed’s a lot more comfortable.”
He stilled. “Are you sure?”
“That it’s comfortable?” She loved teasing him.
“Lucy.” He spoke her name in a low, warning tone.
It sent a shiver of excitement down her spine even as she gave a soft laugh. Tonight, she had the confidence she’d lacked the previous evening. Maybe it was because of the break-in earlier or maybe it was the knowledge this might be her only chance to be with him. Whatever the case, she stood and extended her hand. “Armand, I’ve been sure for years. You’re the one who was dragging his feet.”
Something flashed in his eyes but before she could decide what is was, he surged up from the sofa, swung her into his arms and carried her to her room.
He set her down near the bed, his hands resting lightly on her waist, savouring the closeness, the way her scent surrounded him, the feel of her breasts brushing his chest with each breath. She’d said he’d been dragging his feet and his inner bear had concurred. Years had been lost due to his caution, but no more.
Carefully, he removed her glasses, perching them like an Alice band on her head then studying her face, trailing a finger down her cheek to her jaw, marveling at her soft skin and perfect complexion, the fullness of her lips, the blue of her eyes.
“Ah Lucy, tu es tellement belle.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and began to extend the caress towards her temple except she pulled away.
“Don’t.”
He eased back. “Did I hurt you? Is the scar still tender?”
“No. It’s just not… The puckered skin… Well, you wouldn’t want to touch it.”
“A little scar makes no difference to me. You’re beaut—”
She pressed her hand to his mouth, shaking her head. “You don’t have to keep saying that. I know I’m not as pretty as I once was and it’s okay.” She lifted her chin. “I’m worth more than my appearance.”
He moved her hand from his mouth to his chest, pressing it over his heart. “I agree. You’re worth a great deal regardless of how you look but to me you’re lovely both inside and out and always will be. Scar or no scar.”
“My body is still good.” She shrugged and looked away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spoil the mood.”
“You didn’t. It’s important to discuss, though. You have no need to be ashamed.” He took her by the chin and studied her critically. “Your nose is adorable, your lashes are long and your smile can light up a room. But even if you weren’t already beautiful on the outside, it wouldn’t matter because inside you’re beautiful too. You have a great sense of humour. You’re smart and hardworking. Your heart is filled with a kindness that shines through your eyes and draws people to you. And your scar…” He purposely paused and stared at it before brushing his thumb over its length. “It shows you were stronger than the evil one who attacked you.”
A wrinkle appeared between her brows. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“It’s your badge of courage, a sign of your bravery. You should wear it proudly just as a soldier would wear a medal.”
“A badge of courage?”
He nodded and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to the rough skin. “I love this mark. It means you fought and survived against the odds. Because of that, we can be together now.” He drew away and stared directly into her eyes. “I speak the truth. You know I don’t lie.”
A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “You really are good for me, Armand.”
“Finalement, she realizes this.” He chuckled and brushed her hair back from her face.
“You know, I’ve always wanted to run my fingers through your hair,” she tugged loose the tie at his nape and combed her fingers through the strands.
He twirled a lock of hers around his finger. “I’ve felt the same way about yours.”
“And,” she slid her hands down his shoulders to his chest until her fingers rested on the buttons of his shirt. “I’ve always wanted to touch your naked chest and feel your muscles moving under my palms.”
A crooked grin twisted his lips. “Your chest has figured in my dreams as well.”
She gave him a coy look as she slowly undid the buttons of his shirt. “But not my muscles? You don’t want to feel them moving under your palms?”
“My palms definitely want to feel several parts of you.” He took the bottom of her shirt and began to work it upwards, skimming his fingertips over her skin.
She had his shirt open now and was tracing his pecs, kissing his collar bone, smoothing his shirt from his shoulders before gently grazing her teeth over his nipple. His skin quivered under her touch, his breath catching, and she repeated the tender torture once again.
“I’ll not last very long if you keep that up, Lucy.”
Laughing, she relented. “Maybe you should return the favour.”
“Believe me, I plan to.” He ran his hands over her back to the band of her bra looking for the hook.
“Front clasp.” She stepped away and pulled off her t-shirt.
He copied her and finished removing his shirt but when she shimmied out of her yoga pants, he froze, his hands stilling in the middle of undoing the button on his pants as he swallowed hard. “You could give a man a heart attack doing that.”
“CPR wasn’t the kind of mouth to mouth I was planning on.” She moved to undo her bra, but he shook his head.
“Let me.” He reached for the fastener and freed the clasp, a groan escaping him as her breasts spilled from the fabric cups that had restrained them and filled his palms with their soft warmth. Supporting the weight, he rubbed his thumbs over her nipples, watching her eyes half-close. “You like that?”
“More than like.”
“Hmm…. then I suppose I should continue.” Pulling her down onto the bed, he gently eased her back against the pillows. He set her glasses on the nightstand and then trailed his hand up her leg to her hip, her ribs and her breast. “Now, where was I?” Leaning forward, he took her nipple into his mouth.
She grasped his shoulders, her soft whimpers urging him onward. He moved lower, nuzzling her belly, the crease of her thigh, down to her ankles and then working his way back up again.
“Mmm…” She purred her approval and gave a luxurious stretch. “You’re very good at this, Armand. It’s like I’m floating in a sea of sensation.”
“That’s my plan,” he murmured, pausing to appreciate how she languidly trailed her fingers down the indent of his spine. He’d been waiting to do this for years and didn’t intend to leave a single inch of her untouched. Her hipbones, her ribs, the valley between her breasts, the hollow at the base of her throat…
Just as he reached the sweet spot near the juncture of her neck and shoulder, his nose started to tickle. He tried to ignore it, but the all too familiar sensation increased. Lips pressed together, he did his best to stifle the impending sneeze, realized it was futile and started to pull away.
A loud sound exploded near her ear, and Lou sat bolt upright, jerked back to reality with shocking abruptness. “What was that?”
Armand peered at her over the tissue he’d grabbed. “Sorry. I tried to stifle a sneeze.”
Unable to help herself she started to giggle. Armand gave her an affronted look so she tried to hold back her mirth but that made her think of him trying to stifle his sneeze and more laughter escaped her. His scowl deepened and soon she was holding her stomach and struggling to catch her breath as fits of laughter overtook her.
“I’m glad my allergies amuse you.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have laughed.” She paused and took a deep breath then blew it out. “The look on your face… And after years of waiting to have sex with you…. It’s just too…”
His lips twitched and then he too was laughing, a deep booming sound that mixed with her own and filled the small room until they were both exhausted.
Leaning against the headboard, she wiped the tears of laughter from her face and watched as Armand picked up a pillow, sniffed it tentatively and sneezed again. He tossed the pillow away as if it were a bomb about to go off.
“By any chance, do you use lilac scented laundry soap or fabric softener?”
“Not usually. It was on sale last week plus I had a coupon for half off so I thought I’d try it.”
He groaned. “I’m allergic to it.”
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry, but this bedding...” He gestured with his hand and shook his head.
“It’s okay. These things happen.” She thought for a minute then clambered out of bed and went to the closet. “Strip the sheets. I have some other ones and I’m sure they weren’t washed with the lilac stuff.”
“Really? Good. I’d hate to think I was cock-blocked by a lilac.” He rolled off the bed and got to work. Eventually, he started to chuckle again. “I must admit this is a first.”
“Really? You’ve never had a sneezing fit during sex or you’ve never had to stop and change the bedding? Or were you referring to the break-in earlier?” She balled up the offending bedding and chucked it in the hallway while he dealt with the new sheets.
“I can’t say any of those events have ever been part of my sex life.”
“Then it’s our special memory.” She grinned and climbed back on the freshly made bed.
He sat down beside her, his smile fading as he cupped her face. “The way you can laugh and take everything in your stride, it’s one of my favourite things about you.”
“Lemons and lemonade; it’s what I do.” She laced her fingers behind his neck. “Now, if you’re still in the mood…?”
He kissed her long and slow and deep. “Oh, I most definitely am.”
“Good. Now, where were we?” She trailed her hands down his chest towards his waist.
“I believe I was about to nibble on your neck.”
“And I was thinking we needed to get rid of these jeans.” She reached for his zipper, slowly easing it down over the tantalizing bulge until he suddenly stood up and finished the job. “Hey, I was going to do that,” she protested.
“Next time, I promise, but for now, we’ve had too many delays.” He tossed his denims on the floor and, in a blur of movement stripped her of her panties, flipped onto his back and pulled her down on top of him where they became lost in the haze of desire once again. The scent of him surrounded her, the taste of his salty skin, the rumble of his approval as she stroked his muscular form, giving him pleasure until he hissed a curse and flipped them over.
When he rose over her, the sight of him reminded her of a conquering hero, dark hair spilling about his face, his gaze hot and possessive.
“I need you.” She kissed him hard.
“I need you, too.” He kissed her back. “Protection?”
Damn, she wasn’t on the pill anymore but…she spied the box of tampons on her dresser, did a quick calculation and mentally shrugged. “It’s safe.” She slid her arms around him, down his back to his hips, urging him on, unable to wait a minute longer, gasping as he joined them as one.
It was better than she’d imagined, feeling his hot length stroking her, his body moving with hers. She whimpered her pleasure, her nails scoring his back, her entire being focused on the man looming over her, possessing her, driving her to the heights of ecstasy.
“Oh Armand! Don’t stop, don’t stop… I need…”
“I know,” he growled the words as his teeth raked her neck, his arms gathering her closer, each thrust impossibly deeper until she was sure they’d merged into one body.
Her vision blurred, muscles tensed. She hovered on the brink, unable to think or speak, consumed with the complete perfection of the moment until it exploded leaving her breathless and sated.
Dimly, she was aware that his control was also unravelling, the wild man taking over as he found his own release before collapsing on her.
As she stroked his broad back, a languid smile drifted over her face and she sighed contentedly. Sex had never felt as right as this.
Somewhere in Chicago…
“You found it?”
“Yeah. Just took a bit of searching.”
“Good. I can’t believe we almost lost it.”
“We? Do I have to keep reminding you, you’re the one who messed up? Not me.”
“We’re a team. We win together, and we lose together.”
“Right.” A snort accompanied the comment then silence filled the room as the box in the middle of the table was opened, the contents dumped, scattered over the surface but…
“It’s not there!”
“What? Are you sure?” The box was grabbed, shaken and then ripped apart.
“Dammit, you got the wrong box.” A hand was slammed down on the table to punctuate the words.
“No! That’s impossible!”
“You should have checked! Now what the hell are we going to do?” Fingers were dragged through hair as anxious pacing began.
“I—”
“This won’t look good when I have to explain the reason we still don’t have the goods is because of your foul-up.”
“My foul-up? What happened to the ‘we’re a team’ pep talk you were giving a minute ago?”
“Shut up. Just shut the fuck up!” The remains of the box were crumpled and thrown across the room.