It’s what he always said to me. “I know.” Like without the words he just knew how I felt. I asked him about it and he just smiled at me and told me he needed someone to point it out to him. When I asked what he was talking about, he just asked me what I thought about naming the baby Remy. I loved it.
“I also love your face and I’m sick of trying to find it in all of these whiskers. I know you can’t use your arm very well right now, so why don’t you let me help you shave?”
I ran a finger over the delicate curve of his ear and the eyebrow with the scar danced upward. I was hoping the pain meds and the beer were enough to make him more agreeable.
“You don’t like it?”
“I miss your face. It’s too pretty to be covered with all of this.”
“Is that why you won’t kiss me?”
I frowned at him and leaned down to drop a kiss on his sullen mouth. “No. I’m not kissing you because with you, kissing always leads to more and the doctor told you that was a no-no. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Not kissing hurts me and you don’t even want to know what no sex does to me.”
I had a pretty good idea—after all, I was on the other end of the ban—but his health and well-being were more important than an orgasm no matter how good he might be at giving them. I kissed him again and levered myself up off the bed. I stood over him and put my hands on my hips. I didn’t miss the way his eyes narrowed on my chest.
“I’ll run you a bath. You can relax and I’ll help you look less like a mini Brite. How does that sound?”
He grumbled that real men didn’t take baths, but he didn’t argue or try and stop me when I went into the bathroom and turned on the water. In fact by the time I made it back into the room, he had wrestled his shirt off and had his pants unbuttoned. I could just stare at him like that forever. Even with the angry scar that now decorated the side of his neck right above his collarbone and the ugly wound on his side, he was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I just gaped at him like a dimwit until he laughed at me and ordered me over to help him up. It took some maneuvering and some shuffling, and by the time he got his pants the rest of the way off, there was no doubting that nearly dying hadn’t had any effect on his libido.
I looked at the erection that was now pointing straight upward at his rippling stomach and then up at him. He gave a small shrug.
“My dick doesn’t give two fucks about doctor’s orders.”
I laughed and helped him into the steamy water. He was so big the liquid spilled over the sides onto the floor. He gave me an I told you so look but settled his broad shoulders back and closed his eyes as I brushed a thumb over his cheekbone and along the strong line of his jaw where it was covered in a soft layer of facial hair. I used my other hand to grab a washcloth and roll it over his shoulders and neck, careful of his new battle mark.
“Rome.” Those unbelievable eyes flicked open and I thought I was going to drown in the blue of them. “We might not be perfect, but you and I are so perfect for each other. I just want you to know that.”
He grabbed the hand that I was using to stroke his face and sucked the edge of my thumb into his mouth. Between the heat from the interior of his mouth and the tickle of his beard, I was beginning to doubt I could keep this all business.
“Kind of funny how that worked out, isn’t it?”
He ran his hand up my arm and tangled his fingers in my hair, and before I knew it, he had my entire upper half bent over the edge of the tub and I was not only soaking wet but sprawled across his chest as his mouth sealed itself over mine. Kissing him while he was furry was interesting, and maybe I had been too hasty in wanting to get rid of the beard. His tongue rubbed against mine, his teeth nipped at the delicate skin on the inside of my lower lip, and I realized he had completely maneuvered me into the position with the use of only one good hand. Tricky soldier.
I pushed up off of him and shook my wet bangs out of my face.
“The doctor said no.”
“I say yes.”
I should have fought harder when he moved my hand under the water and wrapped it around his prominent erection. I told myself I didn’t want to hurt him, but the truth was I missed the feel of him, the weight of him in my hands and in my body. I gave that impressive flesh a light squeeze and bit my lip as I waged an internal war with what was right and what was right now.
“Come on, Half-Pint. I only have one working side, I got more holes in me than a golf course, and I haven’t seen you naked in way too long. Climb on and give me something to smile about.”
God, how I wanted to, but I just didn’t want to hurt him and I wasn’t sure about what he was going to say when he caught sight of my little surprise. I thought I was going to have more time to show him, maybe break him into the idea slowly in case he hated it, but his good hand was working into the neck of my tank top and his strong fingers were tweaking my nipple, making it hard to think.
“Rome …”
“Cora …”
I don’t even know why I thought I could fight it. I didn’t have it in me to deny this man anything. I scootched up so that I was propped up on the edge of the tub next to his bad arm. I made him lean his head back so that his neck was resting on the rim, and I kissed him long and hard. He tasted like beer and forever.
“When I take my shirt off, don’t freak out.”
That single eyebrow shot up and he chuckled a little. “I’ve seen your miraculously growing tits, Cora. I think it’ll be fine.”
I made a face at him and pulled my tank top over my head. There was no missing what I had been talking about and I heard him suck in a hard breath then swear when the action hurt his still-tender side.
“Oh my God.”
The tattoo was pretty big. It started on the back of my shoulder blade, the chain meticulously detailed and so real it looked like you could pick it up off my skin. Rule had tattooed the little metal beads that made up the standard chain so that they were in the shape of a heart. The design twisted and twined under my arm and high across my rib cage. The twin tags with all of Rome’s vital statistics hung next to each other under the soft swell of my breast. He was there, forever on my skin. I didn’t know a better way to show him how much he mattered to me, and apparently it had the desired effect because his eyes shot up to mine and for once the man that always had the last word was silent.
“That’s what you wanted my tags for.” His voice was husky and there was no mistaking the emotion in his tone. “It’s beautiful.”
So was the way he kept touching it.
“Rule did it for me. I thought I was going to have more time to surprise you. I wanted to show you when I couldn’t tell you that you were it for me, too.” I reached out and brushed a knuckle along the spot that cut across his neck that was still raised, angry, and red. “You permanently marked your skin for me, Rome. I wanted to do the same for you.”
He got his good arm around me and pulled me fully into the tub with him so that we were hugging but so much more.
“This, Cora … this is as perfect as two people can be.”
He was right; he was also aroused and sexually frustrated because the hug quickly turned from a sweet moment to something much hotter. The fingers of his hand snaked into the back of my damp shorts and his mouth latched on to the side of my neck and started to play with the sensitive skin there.
“You’re gonna have to do all the work, Half-Pint.”
That wouldn’t be a problem, not with his straining cock practically calling my name and his questing fingers already working their way to the place where I needed them most.
“We’re going to flood the bathroom.” He pushed up and helped me get my shorts and panties off. A wave of water cascaded over the edge of the tub and soaked the floor.
“Who cares?” He was all impatient male and grabby hands. Rome was big, the bathtub was not. By the time he finagled me to where he wanted me, more water was on the floor than there was covering him and swirling around
our hips. I made sure to keep most of my weight on my knees and braced myself, using my arms on the porcelain instead of on him like I typically did. His eyes flared up at me when all the best parts of me lined up with all the demanding parts of him. I was starting to rethink my stance on the beard when his mouth closed over the tip of one breast, making me gasp. It tickled, but not in a funny way, in an oh my God don’t stop ever kind of way.
It was a rough ride. Even with me trying to be as gentle and as careful as possible, there was no missing that mixed in with his grunts of pleasure there were gasps of pain. Trying to have sex with jacked-up ribs just wasn’t a good idea, but my guy wasn’t one to give up, and his determination and perseverance were two of the things I loved most about him, especially when it meant he had to get really creative and inventive with his one good hand in order to keep me distracted so that I didn’t call the entire episode off in order to save him unnecessary pain.
I dropped my forehead so that it was touching his and lifted my arms so that they were resting loosely across his shoulders. The water swirling around where we were so intimately joined was warm. Rome was warmer. On every glide up and every slide down, I made sure that he could see how I felt shining through our locked gaze. I didn’t just see him and all that he was: to me he was the only thing worth looking at. I knew by what was staring back at me in the endless depth of those blue eyes that he felt the exact same way, and that was undeniably precious.
We’d never had sex that was slow and agonizingly drawn out. There was something to be said for the anticipation, the heady throb between my legs, and the pulse at the base of my neck. There was reverence in the way we touched each other, like we both knew just how lucky we were to be able to touch each other like this still. Every brush of his mouth across my skin, every nip of teeth against a tender place, reminded me that I had almost lost him and this was life-changing and life-affirming. With each up-and-down drag and pull of aroused skin against pulsing flesh, I could see the vein in his neck and the muscle at the side of his mouth twitch. It was the best kind of torture and probably did more to make him feel better than any of the medication he was currently on. Even if he was normally a more hands-on-type lover, there was no mistaking the fact that he needed this right now.
In typical Rome fashion, all the sexy wait-for-it was only enough for a few minutes. Narrowing his eyes, he flashed me a wicked grin and drove those talented fingers between us so that they were hooked around my ring and pressing against my clit. There was no holding out against that kind of sensual assault and it had the desired effect. I forgot we were supposed to be taking it easy and went to work getting us both off in a matter of minutes. It was more of a sweet cresting than a brain-boggling explosion like it normally was, but it still made my limbs heavy and the rest of me flush with satisfied pleasure. Anything this man wanted to give me was going to end with both of us smiling, there was no doubt about it.
I giggled a little bit and rested my cheek on his shoulder. His thumb left the metal between my legs and skated up my ribs to stroke lovingly back and forth across my new tattoo. I could feel the edge of his blunt fingernail trace the outline of his name even though he couldn’t see it because I was lying entirely on top of him.
“You okay?”
He grunted and wiggled the fingers on his bad side so that he could stroke my thigh.
“Better than okay. Doctors don’t know what they’re talking about. Sex makes everything better.”
I sighed because it might have felt great, but his eyes were darker than normal with shadows of discomfort and those white lines of pain were back next to his eyes. I tried to disengage from him as carefully as possible, which only led to getting the rest of the bathwater on the floor. I just shook my head and wrapped myself up in a fluffy towel. He was cradling his injured side and his thick thigh muscle was clenching and unclenching involuntarily. He looked sated but not in any kind of hurry to move.
He stroked a hand over his still-furry face and looked up at me in question.
“Thought you wanted this gone?”
I considered him thoughtfully for a second, then reached down both hands to help him lever himself up. We almost ended up back in a tangled heap in the tub due to the wet floor and his unwieldy bulk, but somehow I got him to his feet and a towel wrapped around his trim waist.
“I think I might want you to keep it until you’re all the way healed up.”
I got him to the bed and scooted around the room, throwing on some stretchy yoga pants and an oversized T-shirt so I could clean up the tsunami we left in the bathroom. I could feel his eyes follow me as I bopped around.
“Why?”
I froze for a second and looked at him over my shoulder. Was he really going to make me spell it out for him? I could tell by the half grin dancing around his mouth that he already knew.
“Why what?”
“Why keep it if you don’t like it?”
He always had to have the last word, so I slid up next to his hip on the bed, yanked on the long hairs at the tip of his chin, looked him dead in the eye, and told him, “It tickles. I want to know what it feels like when you can get yourself back down between my legs. Can’t wait, big guy.”
The blue in his eyes blazed so bright and hot I was surprised steam didn’t start to come up off of the water droplets still clinging to his damp skin. I laughed and pushed up off the bed, only to be stopped with his hand on my wrist. His look was serious but his voice was soft when he told me:
“You are everything to me, Cora.”
Seriously … and I worried about him not being the perfect guy? If that was what imperfect got me, I was the luckiest girl in the world. I was going to tell him I felt the same way but he tugged me over him, grinned up at me, and told me to climb up and straddle his face so that he could tickle me the rest of the night. I wanted to laugh but I was equal parts turned on and angry that once again he got the last word.
EPILOGUE
Thanksgiving
“We need to go to the hospital.”
I dropped the Allen wrench I was using to put the crib together on the floor and jumped to my feet. Cora was in the doorway to the nursery twisting her hands together.
“The baby?” I didn’t want to ask; the worst thing I could think of started chasing through my mind even though she had just had a checkup and come away from it the epitome of good health. We also knew we were having a little girl, which blew my mind and already had me in a state of perpetual panic.
“No, it’s Phil. Nash just called. It’s bad. Dad’s already in the truck waiting on us.”
Cora’s dad, Joe, had finally flown out for the holidays and to my relief I got on with the older sailor just fine. Instead of going to Brookside with Rule and Shaw for Thanksgiving with my folks, we had stayed in town and done the holiday thing with just the three of us. Cora had tried to get Nash to bring his uncle, but Phil was still acting strange. He was still avoiding Nash and not showing up at the shop, which had prompted Nash to plan a surprise Thanksgiving invasion of his uncle’s fishing cabin on the outskirts of Boulder.
“What’s wrong?”
She shook her head and I could see the worry etched on her pretty face. I pulled her into a tight hug and her arms immediately went around my waist.
“Nash didn’t know. He said when he got to the cabin he thought it was empty, but Phil’s bike was there. He broke in the door and Phil was unconscious on the floor. He had to call Park Service to get help to get him out. They apparently airlifted him here. I called Rule and he and Shaw are on the way down the mountain. Rowdy, Jet, and Ayden are at the bar with Asa, doing Thanksgiving for the vets, but it’s almost over. Ayden said they would meet us there, but if it’s as bad as Nash made it sound, I don’t know that he’s going to want a crowd around. Dad and Phil go way back, so there’s no way I can keep him from going.”
“If I need to run interference I will, Half-Pint. You know it.”
She gave me a hard squeeze and I saw her put her prot
ective mask in place. She was a warrior in her own right, always ready to march into battle and protect the ones she loved from anything she thought could do them harm or hurt them. I gave one last look at the delicate, white crib and followed her out the bedroom door. Disarming a roadside bomb was easier than putting together baby furniture. All the little parts and pieces were not designed for a guy with paws like mine. At least Cora found it hilarious every time she walked in to find me swearing and threatening death upon inanimate objects.
We put the nursery in Asa’s old room because Jet and Ayden still had a few months until the remodel of his studio was done. Jet was gone so much and Ayden was so busy with work and school I hardly saw either of them. In fact, aside from my girl and brunch on Sunday with the family, the only person I really saw a lot of was Asa. I was busy with the bar because the bar was busy and he was simply my right-hand man. I didn’t know if we clicked because we both filled the role of big brother, or if it was because we were both men trying to redefine how we saw ourselves and how others saw us, but we just did. I knew enough to know that he was wily, and crafty; the last two bar fights I had been forced to break up had been because of girls he left high and dry or who hadn’t bothered to remember they had a boyfriend before going home with the Southern charmer. There was no doubt he was trouble, but so was Rule. I knew all about how to handle it and I liked to consider the guy a buddy.
I hoisted Cora up into the cab of the truck and roared on to the hospital. She was quiet and her dad was tense. I didn’t bother with platitudes because one military man didn’t try and fool another. The situation was unknown, but with Phil’s strange behavior and the way he had been avoiding everyone who loved him, it didn’t bode well. I grabbed Cora’s hand and felt the way it trembled in my own. She was scared, but she would power through it like she always did.
We filed into the hospital, following behind her dad. He had a take-no-prisoners kind of demeanor that was very similar to Cora’s, and he got us to the emergency wing way faster than we would have had we been on our own. We came around the corner of the waiting room and there was no missing Nash. That shaved head with the flames tattooed on either side of it was bent down and he was staring intently into the gray eyes of the very pretty redheaded nurse. I kind of considered her a good-luck charm, so I was glad she was there. Cora called his name and his head jerked up to look at us. Something twisted in my chest when I saw that there were very obvious tracks of moisture on his face. Those periwinkle eyes were liquid with sorrow and heartache.