Reckless Endangerment (20 page)

“We’ll never be normal people.”  His wink caught her off guard.  “How about a tour?  What other surprises are stashed around the house?  More stuff for me?”

“Does Becky know you’re running amuck through the city?  Do you have your things with you?  Are you staying?  Do you have some medication that I need to be aware of?  I don’t want to be the one who kills you.”  Questions took over her brain.  The idea that he was here to stay re-energized her as if the exhaustion of a few minutes ago had never existed.  She jumped up and pushed her hands through her hair.  “God, I’m a mess.  We were in the woods and then Angel decided to let us film her so we rushed back. I need a shower.”

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing with a familiar look that never failed to make her crave him inside her.  Damn it, she would need to proceed with caution here.  Situation red.  All systems on alert.  Do not break him. Do. Not. Break. Him.

“I always liked you a little dirty and disheveled.” His gaze roamed over her.  “Have you been waiting with a yellow ribbon tied anywhere interesting?”

My God, he was flirting with her. 

“Careful, babe.  You’re headed into dangerous territory.  Remember what happened Tuesday and Wednesday?”

“I remember both days very well.”  The hunger in his eyes melted her core. 

Unsure how to deal with this new version of her husband, she walked out of the room. 

“I like my view,” he said as he followed behind her, eyes level with her ass. 

Interesting turn of events.  She shook her head and walked to the kitchen for a beer.  Not only did she need one, she wanted to give him something to do with his hands.

She jumped when she turned and found him directly behind her heels.  Stealthy.  That could be bad. 

With narrowed eyes, she handed him the beer.  “Any medication I need to be worried about?”

“You are overly concerned with my medication yet are constantly handing me alcohol.  I can’t decide if you’re trying to kill me or keep me dazed.”  He took the beer from her, his smile throwing her off guard.  Only a few days ago he had been cursing her existence in his life, now here he was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.  “Want to tell me what you and Devon were up to today?  What’s this big story that has feds following us and you screening visitors?  Time for a confession.”

“I’d rather give you the tour.” She leaned her back against the refrigerator, completely forgetting about Devon, McGee and Marshall.  “Do you have any mental illnesses I should know about before we go any further?  Your mood swings are hard to keep up with.”

“How far are we intending to go?” He slid his hand up her jean-clad thigh, gaze locked on the zipper.  “I want to be inside you again, see what’s possible.  The other day, tasting you, made me want more.”

“Definite mental problems.”  She let him touch her, her insides liquefying at the memory of his lips on her skin.  “Want to see the rest of the place or do you just want to sit here looking smug?”

“I can look smug and look at the rest of the place at the same time.”

“You’re definitely on some serious meds.  C’mon then.”  With a swing of her arm, she motioned toward the empty spaces surrounding the living area.  “Kitchen, dining area minus a table, sitting area or library or something…not sure what to do with that large space filled with boxes but we’ll figure it out.  You can see the living area.”

“So that leather sofa is mine, too?  The television?  It’s ours? Together?”  He moved in front of her with a sense of awe on his face. 

She leaned her elbows on the kitchen counter and watched him move around like a kid on Christmas morning who had just been given everything he’d ever wanted.  “Yes, it’s all yours.  Ours.”

“No wonder Becky called this place a monstrosity.”

She led him to the far bedroom--the one whose door remained firmly closed.  She hesitated with her hand on the doorknob for only a second before pushing it open.  A full size bed occupied the room covered by a comforter depicting every sport imaginable. Unsure what a boy Dalton’s age would like or want, she had played it safe and covered her bases. 

She’d taken a big risk buying this place and decorating it without knowing if he would ever see it. Now he would see her borderline desperation.

“You were pretty confident I would come to my senses, weren’t you?” he asked. “It’s almost exactly like we talked about all those months ago.  You paid attention to the details.”

She leaned her hip against the large window overlooking the river, the amusement park and the mountains in the distance.  Profile to him, she folded her arms over chest.  How to act, what to say, what to expect, what not to expect.  She wanted
them
back—the ease that they had once had—the trust—the unity. 

“I felt insane buying all of this stuff when you wouldn’t even see me,” she whispered.  “I don’t know anything about kids…so…this is the bare minimum.  I know Dalton has his own things, probably wants to pick out some new stuff, too, so…I was winging it.”

“You’ve always been good on the fly.”  He looked down at the river.  Skateboarders moved past bike riders.  A few pedestrians lounged on park benches.  “Dalton will love it here.”

“Will you love it here?”

Their voices seemed overly loud in the empty room. 

“I’ve got a long way to go,” he said.

“That’s your theme song, isn’t it?  Long way to go…don’t we all?”  She walked to the hallway. She rubbed the back of her neck and waited at the doorway to the master bedroom. 

The king size bed rested beneath a skylight.  Windows lined the south wall that overlooked the river and the rest of the city.  On a clear day, they could see Pikes Peak from this view.  Two night tables, a dresser and a leather chair were the only other furniture in the room.  Another flat screen took up the opposite wall above a dresser.  Sparse for the big space, but she hadn’t wanted to fill it with furniture without his input. 

“I have some of your clothes here,” she said after finding her voice. “It’s all in the closet. It’s what you left in my hotel room. I also bought some things Monday night after seeing you in those ridiculous blue sweatpants, nothing fancy just some stuff I picked up at Target.” 

She opened the doors to the large walk-in closet and pointed toward his side.  Feeling like the puppet master again, she sidestepped around him as he entered the space.  

He looked at her, brown eyes soft with emotion.  “I never expected any of this. My side of the office.  My side of the closet.  You even have the perfect room for my son.  You’ve been making plans. Do you ever stop thinking, moving and planning?”

Self-conscious and unsure if he was happy or mad, she left the closet and walked toward the master bathroom.  “And, um, the bathroom.  I had bars installed and, um, a bench for the shower.”  She waited for him to join her before grabbing the special showerhead that all the websites and books had recommended.  “This should make things easy for you and I can…I will help, you know…I mean, it’s not like we haven’t showered together a hundred or so times.”

“At least a hundred times.”  He stared at the showerhead with a frown. 

She’d never been so uncertain about anything in her life as she was about him at this moment.  Him showing up here had thrown off her plans.  She had wanted to welcome him home with a big event of some kind, instead their friends were expected back at any moment, she was dirty, bruised and battered, he was on the lam from New Horizons and FBI agents lurked outside. Not exactly the perfect homecoming. Then again, nothing in their relationship had been ideal.

Without saying a word, he backed from the bathroom and moved toward the closet.  She sat on the edge of the bed and watched him look through his clothes.  Memories bound them as he looked from one item to another taken from her dusty hotel room a world away.  His hand lingered on the white shirt he had worn on their wedding day—a simple white button down shirt that held enough significance to weigh down the room.

“Does that door lock?” he asked after a long few minutes.

She smiled at the look he gave her.  My God, he wanted to fool around in this big king sized bed she had bought for them to share.  “McGee, Devon and Marshall will be back any minute.”

“So?”  His slow smile sent her heart to the moon.  “They’ll figure it out.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”  God help her, she blushed.  How can a grown woman blush? She shook her head in self-disgust. 

He moved toward her, their roles reversed from a few days ago.  He was in all out predator-mode.  “C’mon, babe.  Welcome me home.” 

Chapter Twelve

He laughed at the absurdity of their situation.  Never alone, not entirely.  Always someone outside the door, someone waiting, limited time. 

She locked the bedroom door before turning slowly around.  Her smile disappeared as they looked at each other across the small space. 

“Are you going to change your mind tomorrow?” she asked without moving from where she stood.  “Push me away again?  I don’t want to go all in here...believe in happily ever after only to be shut out at the end of the day.”

He sobered.  He deserved that question after all the months of treating her like an afterthought.  He looked away from her and rubbed his hands over his thighs.  His life plan hadn’t included all of these complications or hesitations.  But, if he’d learned anything as a soldier, it was to adapt to circumstances.  He exhaled a long breath and wondered when he’d forgotten that. 

He looked at her—his wife—really looked.  Damn, she took his breath away.  He felt certain that she always would, even when they were ninety year olds looking back on their life together, he felt certain she’d make his heart stop with a smile.  He knew, too, that he wanted to be that guy sitting across from her when she was old...not someone else. 

“Are you absolutely sure you want to deal with me like this?  You’ve seen how I am now.  I get these moods…I’m a challenge, to put it mildly.  Are you absolutely sure, no looking back, having everyone know about us, dealing with—”

“Absolutely sure.”  Her smile warmed his heart like a fire on a winter’s night.  “Like I said the other night, I’ve been a little bored.  You’ll liven up the place.”

“Bored, hm?”  He matched her smile with his own.  “Then I’m really home?”

“Yeah, you’re home.”

She pulled the T-shirt over her head and tossed it away.  As she walked toward him, she undid her bra and let it fall to her side. 

He bit his lip at the sight of the black bruises tinged with yellow that lined the side of her ribcage.  Another bruise marred the top of her left breast, just above the bra line.  Her left hip was purple and her knees were skinned raw. 

Some asshole had hurt his wife, touched her, kicked her.  Helplessness warred with anger at the unknown assailant.  He gripped the arms of his chair as she turned slowly in a circle, arms in the air.  More scars.  Older.  From shrapnel, he assumed, when she’d ran back into the line of fire for him. 

“See? I have scars, too.”  She looked at him over her shoulder.  “Do you still want me, Michael?  Scars and all?”

“God, yes.  How badly hurt were you in Afghanistan?” he asked.  “No one told me.”

She walked to the edge of the bed and pulled back the covers.  “None of it matters now.”

“It matters.”  He grabbed her hips from behind and rested his head against the curve of her butt.  “And Tuesday night?” His fingers stroked the outline of one of the fresh bruises.  “How badly did these guys hurt you?  Tell me.” 

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me.  I’ve got it handled.”  She turned in the circle of his arms, her fingers clasped in his hair.  “Let’s figure out how to get you into this bed.”

He smiled against her abdomen.  For someone who had been confined to a bed for months, he couldn’t believe how badly he wanted to get back in one. 

“I hate that someone else touched you like this.”  His fingers caressed the bruises from her hips to the rib cage and over her breast.  “I want to hurt someone.”

“Did you cheat on me?” She pulled his hair, forcing him to look at her.  “Tell me the truth.” 

He laughed then at the absurdity of her question.  He had been a mess of surgeries, depression and failed physical therapy. He hadn’t exactly been on the market. 

“Don’t laugh. I’m serious.” She bent over him, a veil of her hair framing his face.  “I had all these ideas of you falling in love with some nurse who doted on you.”

“My nurses hated me.”  He caressed her back.

“Nurses hated you, huh?  Well, I guess I can believe that.”  She pressed her lips against his neck before sliding down him to lock the brakes of his chair.  Chin on his knee, she looked up at him with a grin that reminded him of sex and secrets and whispers in the night.  “I don’t want any more accidents.”

He grabbed her hair and pulled until her face was an inch from his.  He took his time watching her green eyes snap with desire and darken to a deep emerald shade.  He felt his erection stir to life and grinned.  Maybe his life plan could still turn out to be spectacular.