Rock Chick 02 Rescue (42 page)

Dear Lord.

Not another one of those.

I suppose if I could survive being held at gunpoint, I could survive a listen-to-Eddie chat.

On that thought, I fel asleep.

(Um...Eek!)

The alarm went off, Eddie touched a button and rol ed into me.

I tensed, waiting for him to throw back the covers and drag me out of bed.

Instead he pul ed my back to his front and asked softly,

“How’s your head?”

I did a ful -body scan. My knees hurt, my head hurt and my entire body felt stiff. On the other hand, I was breathing and not locked in a scary, sideways refrigerator at the morgue so I figured I was feeling pretty good.

In answer I said, “I cannot
believe
I have to get shot for you to hit the snooze button.”

His body went stil .

“Can we make a deal?” he asked, his voice stil quiet.

I wasn’t awake enough to make a deal with Eddie but was also not feeling like arguing.

“Maybe,” I said, thinking that was a good compromise.

“The deal is that was the last joke we’l make about you gettin’ shot.”

My breath caught and I held it.

His lips came to my neck.

“Deal?” he asked.

“Okay,” I agreed on a big exhale.

I had to admit, his words and the meaning behind them shook me straight to my soul. I didn’t have time to focus on my shaken soul, Eddie’s lips started roaming, gliding up my shoulder.

“Are we going to take a shower?” I asked.

He careful y turned me around so we were face to face and his hands slid down my back to my bottom. I tilted my head up to look at him and his eyes were on my temple.

“I figure it’s best we do this lyin’ down.” I nodded, because he was probably right. I’d survived a shooting, I didn’t need to die a tragic death while being given an orgasm in the shower.

Then he kissed me and I wasn’t thinking about tragic
anything
.

Then he made love to me.

It wasn’t hot, fast or rough like it seemed both Eddie and I liked it.

It was about a slow burn; it was gentle and it was sweet.

It was so slow, gentle and sweet that, in the end, it garnered an “ohmigod, ohmigod” neck arching orgasm, which was good since after, my body didn’t feel stiff anymore.

* * * * *

“Indy doesn’t care when you show up and everyone knows my girlfriend got shot last night. I don’t think they’l be expecting us first thing.”

There it was again, the g-word.

“Everyone knows?” What I meant was, everyone knew I was his… g-word.

“Cops talk. You’ve been the main topic of conversation since I got pul ed in after the bachelor party brawl.” Oh… dear… Lord.

I went up on my elbow, he rol ed to his back and I looked down on him.

“What do you mean, pul ed in after the bachelor party brawl?”

He was wearing his satisfied look and my bel y curled.

He tucked my hair behind my ear and then cupped my jaw, running his thumb across my bottom lip.

My bel y curl turned into a twist.

“They’re not exactly gonna give me a commendation for starting a fight and breakin’ some guy’s nose a few days before his wedding.”

I blinked, then I stared.

“You got in trouble?”

“Relax
Chiquita
,” he grinned and pul ed me down to him,

“nothing came of it. The groom wasn’t fired up to tel his bride he’d got his nose broke because he put his hand down the shirt of a cocktail waitress at a strip joint. And Smithie didn’t push it, likely because of you.” I thought about Bachelor Number One, or
The
Bachelor, getting married with a big old swol en nose. That would be a serious bummer for the wedding photos.

I had to admit, I liked the thought, mainly because he was a jerk, even if I felt sorry for his bride (for a variety of reasons).

I couldn’t help it, a wedding photo appeared in my head and it made me smile. As my face was against Eddie’s chest, he felt it and kissed the top of my head.

Then I lost my smile as my thoughts drifted.

Eddie got into trouble at work for me. Eddie also paid for my car, which had to cost at least a thousand bucks, not to mention the coffee maker. Eddie was a cop. I figured cops probably did al right, money-wise, say, in comparison to bums like my Dad. They weren’t known to be bazil ionaires. And, last night, Eddie was supposed to be somewhere where something was “going down” but instead he was at the hospital with me.

Seriously, this could not go on.

I figured it was time to have a Jet Chat.

“Eddie?” I started.

“Shit, I thought I had your ‘Eddies’ down but that sounds like a new one,” he teased.

I ignored him.

I ignored him.

“I thought you had something going on last night.”

“I did.”

“Did it ‘go down’?” I asked.

His hand slid up my back and started to play with my hair.

“Heard the cal go over the radio, Indy’s got her own code, which shouldn’t surprise you. I knew you were with her so I blew out.”

I closed my eyes.

“I
am
a pain in the ass,” I whispered.

He pul ed gently on my hair and I looked up at him. He had his chin dipped, looking down at me. His face was mel ow yet serious. It was a new look and, just like any of his looks, I liked it.

“I was on a stake out, nothin’ was happening, it was becoming clear nothin’ was gonna happen and it was boring as hel . Although I would rather have come home to you jazzed like you were the other night, you didn’t interrupt anything.”

Wel , that was a relief.

I decided to hit on topic number two. I didn’t know how to broach it so I decided just to be direct. “You have to quit spending money on me.”

He rol ed me over to my back, his body mostly on me.

“
Chiquita
…”

“No, real y. I know you want me indebted to you but it’s getting ridiculous. The car was too much, the coffee maker…”

He started laughing. Not out and out but his body was moving with it.

I wasn’t sure what was so damn hilarious. According to Daisy, coffee makers were pretty serious and Daisy knew just about everything.

“What’s funny?” I asked, “No, wait. I’l tel you what’s
not
funny and this is not funny. I’m being serious.”

“You real y have a problem with that coffee maker, don’t you?” Eddie asked.

“Eddie—”

“
Cállate, mi amor
.” he said and there it was again. I could hear affection in his voice. I wasn’t ready for amused affection, not when we were discussing something as important as coffee makers.

“Don’t tel me to shut up,” I said to him.

His knuckles ran down my jaw and he looked into my eyes; his were stil ful of laughter. “I know you work hard for your money. But you should know that it means more to you than it probably means to me.”

“Money means a lot to everyone and I know you aren’t rol ing in it so you have to stop blowing it on me.” The laughter died out of his eyes.

I had, of course, in the throes of performing my Jet Chat, forgotten that Eddie was a Mexican-American man and they tended to be both proud and macho and I’d just stepped al over both of those.

Stil , I didn’t care. This was going a lot further and a lot faster than made me comfortable. In fact, this happening
at
all
made me uncomfortable. I had to set the brakes, pronto.

“We’re not talking about this,
Chiquita
,” he said to me.

“Yes we are,” I shot back.

His eyes started to get a little glittery.

“Okay then, we are,” he said.

Uh-oh.

I didn’t think I had control of the Jet Chat anymore.

“Time for our chat,” he announced.

I was right, I didn’t have control of the Jet Chat anymore.

The Jet Chat had just taken a scary turn down the road leading straight to the Eddie Chat.

Damn.

“I think I need coffee before our chat,” I said hoping to buy time.

“After. We’re gonna get a few things straight, you and me.”

Damn, shit, fuck
and
hel .

I wasn’t doing very wel with things crooked between Eddie and me. I real y didn’t want things straight. I didn’t know for certain how I wanted things. What I did know was how I didn’t want them and that was Relationship Overdrive while the rest of my life was chaos.

“Eddie…”

“I know the meaning of
that
‘Eddie’,” he said, “and you can save it. You’re not getting out of this.” Exactly
how
did he have me
so
figured out?

I gave up and glared at him.

He ignored The Glare.

“See, even with bul ets flyin’, I’ve had the chance to get to know you. Cal me crazy but I’d like to do it better.” My glare deepened.

He continued to ignore it.

“That said, bul ets
are
flyin’, one nearly blew your pretty face off last night, so, I gotta tel you, I’d like it a fuck of a lot more if you saw your next birthday. The way I see it, that gives you two choices. First choice, you cool it with this ‘get control of my life’ business and let me keep you safe, which means you do what I say and you don’t go out on the town with your gang in high heels. Second choice, you go your own way. You do that, I have Lee pick you up and put you in his safe room until I sort this shit out. If that means we’re over, I’m wil in’ to take that chance, knowin’ after it’s done you’l be somewhere alive and breathing even if you’re doin’ it in someone else’s bed.”

I gasped through The Glare and said, “Eddie…”

“No ‘Eddie’. You choose, right now, door number one or door number two, no discussion.”

Real y.

I did
not
think so. He was
not
going to lie there and give me an ultimatum.

I pushed him off, sat up, taking the sheet with me, and turned to him but he sat up too so I lost my leverage.

So be it, I was used to no leverage.

“There’s always room for discussion,” I told him.

“Not this time,” he returned.

I narrowed my eyes at him and then said something immensely stupid. Do
not
ask me why, I just did. Maybe it immensely stupid. Do
not
ask me why, I just did. Maybe it was my newfound attitude; I didn’t have it under control just yet, it leaked out wil y-nil y at
the
worst possible times.

(In my defence, Eddie
was
being kind of bossy.)

“Door number three is I do what I want and get Daisy to help me avoid you while I’m doing it. And door number four is turn tail and run, escaping it al by talking Mace into helping me and Mom disappear in Mexico like he said last night.”

Eddie’s eyes were no longer a little glittery, they were ful -on glittery.

“I’m sorry?”

Um… maybe it was time to put away the attitude and keep my mouth shut.

“I’d like to hear that part again about Mace helping you disappear.”

I didn’t actual y think he’d like to hear it again so I decided not to say it again.

“Tel me about Mace,” he persisted.

“No,” I said.

“I think I missed something, maybe we should go back over that kiss you shared,” he suggested and I could feel the negative vibes rol ing off him in waves, pounding against me.

“Eddie.”

“For fuck’s sake, Jet!” he exploded and I’d never heard him talk so loudly. I mean, I’d heard him yel but this was a
roar
. “You were
shot
last night.”

“Believe me, I know!” I yel ed back (but mine wasn’t as good).

“You are not puttin’ yourself out there and you are not goin’ anywhere near Mace again,” he shouted.

“You can’t tel me what to do!”

His eyes narrowed.

“You better fucking believe I can.”

I felt my temple throb and I chose to drop back to the pil ows instead of having another staring contest, I never won those anyway.

I closed my eyes and put my hand to my head.

He was right, of course and that total y pissed me off. I had no business putting myself out there; I didn’t know what I was doing. He tried to tel me with the pepper spray incident, but did I listen?
No
. So I ended up on the floor of a dirty, smoky room, shielding my sister from bul ets, my friends in the line of fire, Shirleen, who I barely even knew, lying unconscious out in the hal and final y with a gun to my head. A gun that went off in front of Mace, making him relive a nightmare.

Damn, shit, fuck, hel and back again.

“Al right,” I snapped, opening my eyes, “I’l be cool but you have to promise me you won’t tel Mace I told you al this.”

He dropped to his side and rol ed over me, pinning me to the bed.

“No fuckin’ way, Mace and I are gonna have a talk.”

“No! You have to promise.”

“You just chose door number one, which means you chose me, which means you stayin’ in my life and my bed. I know you aren’t gonna like it,
Chiquita
, because you look like you’re preparin’ to bolt any time anything looks or sounds serious about us, but that also means you are now official y my woman and as such, Mace and I are gonna have words.”

I didn’t have time to freak out about being Eddie’s woman. That was worse than his girlfriend. Far worse. A thousand times worse. The w-word was to the g-word what the f-word was to the c-word. I couldn’t even say the c-word in my head!