Reckless Endangerment (5 page)

“Am I bullying you?” She grinned at the idea of bullying him.  He’d always been the badass Marine with more arrogance than necessary.  Her independence clashed with his attitude more often than not, but that had been a good thing.  Maybe...just maybe...he’d missed it.  “I brought you fast food and alcohol.  We even had a fight.  I think you like that I’m here.  I’m livening things up.  You looked pretty bored when I walked in.”

He grabbed her hand before she could snag another fry.  He squeezed her fingers so hard she thought her bones would snap.  “Look at me.  I’m not the man you married.  I’m not even a Marine anymore.  Look at me.”

She only saw the man she loved who stared back with desperation in his eyes. She saw his hair thicker and longer than she’d ever seen it before and liked it. She saw his teeth sink into his lower lip and wanted them sinking into her skin.  She only saw Michael.

“You’re still the sexiest man on the planet,” she said.

“You’re delusional.”  He dropped her hand as if the mere touch of her skin sickened him.

“Maybe I am.”

“What are you getting out of this?”

“A headache.”

“I can’t…I’m changed.  We’ll never be able to be like we were.”  He looked at his legs.  “Not like how you remember me anyway. I’m different now.”

“So am I.  We’re all different.”

“It’s more than that and you know it.  You and me...sex...there will be...expectations.”

“I see, so I should pretend you don’t exist because you feel awkward about sex? You must not think much of me, Colonel.”  She bit out his rank between clenched teeth. 

“When I see you that’s what I want, are you satisfied now?  Right now I would like to throw you up against that counter, rip those jeans from you and fuck you.  I remember how we were together.  That’s what I want.  I can’t do that.  Do you hear me?  I can’t have what I want and seeing you is torture for me.  I can’t have you.”

Silence quaked in the room.

She put both of her hands on his knees, conscious that he couldn’t feel her touch. “You keep talking about what you’ve lost, but you haven’t lost me.  Don’t you see that?  You may not be a Marine anymore and you may not be able to walk anymore, but you have me.  I love you.  I need you.  Can’t that be enough? And you have your son. What about him? He needs you, too.  You haven’t lost him.” 

“I wish you hadn’t come here.”

“Too bad, I’m here. Deal with it.”  She moved onto his lap and moved her hands over his shoulders. “What’s the problem?”

“Stop this,” he whispered.

“You want me to kiss you. You want to kiss me back.”  She could see it in his eyes, the need, the desire, the question.  “Is that what you want, Michael?”

“What would that prove?”

“Does it have to prove something?  Can’t a kiss be a kiss?”

“No.”

“Typical man.”  She leaned within a fraction of his lips.  “Don’t you remember high school?  Don’t you remember when a kiss meant everything?”

In a sudden move, he grabbed the back of her head and ground his mouth against hers.  She knew the intensity was meant to shock her so she matched it with her own.  She sat on his lap and plunged her tongue into the recesses of his mouth until he moaned.  His free hand squeezed her breast through the thin material of her blouse but, instead of hurting, it ignited her blood.

The Michael she knew still lived inside this man.  She felt him in the warmth of his mouth, the strength of his hands on her body, the restrained power of his touch.  

She couldn’t stop touching him, hands moved through his hair, over his face, along his shoulders.  Alive.  Here.  She fought back a Hallelujah. 

Chapter Three

His hands stopped punishing and started appreciating. He had almost forgotten how incredible she felt. Almost. He dragged his mouth from hers. “I hate that I’ve missed you. I hate it.”

“I know.” She smiled against his mouth before kissing him again. Her hands slid beneath his shirt and flattened against his bare chest. “Thank God you’re okay. I prayed so hard that you’d survive, that we’d be together again.”

Their mouths clung together as hands fumbled for skin.  His fingers undid the buttons of her shirt until he found the swell of her breasts over her bra.

“Have you forgotten me?” She nibbled his neck. “Have you forgotten how we were together?”

“No.” His fingers traced the swell of her breasts. “I could never forget you.”

God, he’d missed her.  He would never tell her, but he dreamed of her every night, fantasized about touching her, holding her, talking to her, laughing with her. He closed his eyes and inhaled her scent.

“You need to go.” He hated the word but knew he had to say them.  For her sake he needed to let her go.

“I’m not leaving.” She tightened her hold and pressed her face into his neck. “Can’t you just give in? Tell me that you want me to stay. I know you do. Tell me.”

He twisted his hands in her hair and held her close for a minute more.  He never wanted to let her go again. “Moment of weakness. We’ve always had chemistry, but it ends here.”

“Stop lying.”  She kissed him again.

He couldn’t resist. Hell, he’d never been able to resist her. He kissed her back as if savoring the moment and storing it away for lonely nights.

“I’m trying to let you off the hook,” he admitted quietly against her lips. “No one knows about us, well, except for McGee and Lisa.  Give me divorce papers and I’ll sign them.  You can walk away, no hard feelings.  Go live your life. Let me go. No one else will ever know.”

“I’ll know.” Her thumbs traced the scar. “Give me a chance. Let me surprise you.”

He stared into her eyes, transfixed by the gold flecks at the depths of emerald green. Long red bangs skimmed the top of her cheekbones flushed with emotion.  Her hot breath caressed his mouth. Her breasts pressed against his chest, the heat alone enough to send him into cardiac arrest. For a minute, he indulged in flicking his gaze over her face that hovered a fraction away.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this for them, that’s all he could think as bitterness swelled inside his chest. 

“I don’t need you, that’s what you’re not understanding, and you sure as hell don’t need me.”  Hands strong, he pushed her away until she slid from his lap.  “Get. Out.”

“Kiss me one minute, push me away the next.  You don’t know what you want or what you need.”

“Maybe you’re right,” he shrugged away the truth, “but I think it’s best if we both move on. I can’t be the person you need me to be. This needs to end.”

Fire snapped in her eyes when she pointed a finger at him. “Don’t pretend you don’t love me anymore. Even you trying to protect me by pushing me away feels like love to me.”

“Stop humiliating yourself.” Cruelty was his only option.

“This is like a fucking nightmare and I can’t wake up.”  All fire and fury she paced in front of him. Shirt still undone and arms gesturing toward the ceiling, she looked exactly like the ball-buster he remembered. “I don’t believe you.”

He hated himself for hurting her. He couldn’t look at her anymore. He turned his chair and moved toward the bedroom. “Go. My family is coming with dinner. I can’t imagine explaining you to them.”

“Explain me? Explain me?” In the blink of an eye, she blocked the doorway to the bedroom.  With a yank, she held up the chain where his wedding band hung and tossed it at him. “Explain this.”

The wedding ring landed in his lap. He couldn’t bear to touch it.

“Give up,” he said like a prayer.

He could see her body shaking, watched a vein pulsate in her neck, noticed the clenching of her fists and knew she restrained herself from strangling him.

“No, that’s not an option.” With a long sigh, she buttoned her blouse and walked around him.

He turned when he heard her fumbling in her bag. Two picture frames in her hands, she stood with her profile to him and red hair streaming around her shoulders. She tossed them onto his lap where they covered the wedding ring.

“You don’t deserve these, but I’m leaving them here anyway.”

“Is this what the big scene was about? You giving me back my ring, dropping off some photos, letting me feel you up, kissing me? Let me guess, now I’m supposed to snap back in line and crawl back to you, right?” God help him, he didn’t want to look at the pictures. “Well, I can’t crawl.”

“You’ve been through a lot, I get it, but none of that is an excuse to be cruel.”  She pulled the leather jacket on while keeping her back to him. “Feel sorry for yourself, if that’s what you want, but we’re not over. You’re lashing out because you’re mad and frustrated and maybe--although I’m sure you’ll never admit it--scared.”  She looked over her shoulder while pulling hair from beneath her collar. “This game of yours ends today. I’m not pretending anymore. I’ve given you enough time to figure things out, but now that’s over.  You’re my husband and I’m going to make sure people know it.”

“What’re you going to do?” He stiffened, knowing she always followed through with threats.

“Raise some hell, rock your world,” she said with that wicked smile he’d fallen for nearly two years ago in a dusty hotel lobby a world away.

“No, you won’t.” He squinted, certain she was bluffing. After all this time, why would she show her hand now?

“I’ve waited long enough. I’m out of patience.”

Against his better judgment, he looked at the framed pictures.  The top one was of the two of them wrapped in a sheet on her hotel bed, her hair cascading around bare shoulders, face illuminated by pale light, green eyes full of love and laughing as he took their self-portrait.  The picture came to life in his hands...he tasted her, smelled the room, felt her naked body next to his, heard them laughing, felt the love.

When he glanced up, he saw that she was fumbling through her bag and hoped she didn’t pull out any more surprises.

With a sigh, he looked at the second photograph.  It was their wedding photo, although an outsider would never realize that. He stood tall with his white shirt unbuttoned to the waist and laughter lighting his face. He had been so happy and in love that day as he’d watched her skip up the aisle with her hair flying around her shoulders and the setting sun reflecting on her skin. In the photo, her arms were wrapped around his waist, head against his chest, white strapless dress billowing around her legs and smile wide. Their friends, McGee, Lisa, Peter, Sally and Samson flanked them.  Three of those friends were now dead.

“I’m leaving, but I’ll be back.” She looped her bag over her chest and lingered near the door. “And, you’re right, I pulled some strings to move you to the top of the waiting list, but I had no idea you’d be here already.  From what I understood, you weren’t ready to be released from Walter-Reed.  But, yeah, it’s true I knew you wanted to be close to your family even if you’d rather poke both of your eyes out than admit it, stubborn bastard.”

“I’m sick of not having a say in what I do or don’t do.  You can’t do this. Just because I’m trapped in this chair doesn’t mean I don’t have a say about my life and I want you out of it. Get the hell out and leave me alone. I don’t want to be married to you and, unless something’s changed in the good ol’ USA, you can’t stop me from divorcing you. Listen closely, babe. I. Don’t. Want. You.”

Rage consumed him. Rage for what could have been, what should have been, for a life lost. Rage for everyone acting like he had no rights anymore, like he couldn’t make his own decisions.  He tossed the wedding ring and pictures across the room.

Looking horrified, she covered her mouth with her hands and walked to where the frames smashed against the floor.  As she bent, her bag spilled, contents ranging from liquid soap to a flashlight scattered across the tile. She fell to her knees, hands shaking as she scooped up the items. Broken glass crunched beneath her.  Hair shielded her face from view, but he knew she cried.

He remembered another time with her on her knees when that bag had saved his sanity. Bombs had rocked the walls. Blood had dripped into his eyes. Dizziness weakened his legs. From that bag, she’d retrieved bandages, protein bars, and bottles of water. He had thanked God for her and that oversized bag.

“I’ll make sure I call next time,” she said in rushed, quiet voice, “wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.”

“I’m sorry.”  He dropped his hands to the arms of the chair and stared at her bent head.  “I don’t know how to handle any of this anymore, Hope, especially you.”

She froze at his words. “Especially me, huh? I’m the one constant in your life, if you haven’t figured that out yet. Despite all the bullshit, here I am. Me, stupid me, still needing you as much today as I did a year ago.”

His chest caved in at the sight of her eyes glistening with tears. He wanted to take it back, every word.

“I don’t know how to do this, how to be married, how to be back in the States, how to be a civilian again, how not to walk,” he admitted.