Beneath the Cracks (14 page)

One hand cupped Johnny's cheek.  "But
you don't know me.  Not really."

"Yeah," he murmured.  "I really
do.  I understand what makes you tick.  I always
have."

More tears fell.  It couldn't be
true.  He'd be running for the door if he knew what a monster
I am.  Yet something in his eyes conveyed sincerity.  He
believed what he said, whether I did or not.  And there was
something else.  Maybe wonder, or disbelief at more than my
simple question.

Then he killed the moment.

"Baby, I really want to kiss you."

The panic must've given him pause.

"I won't.  I won't do anything you
don't want ever again."

Did he really understand me?  Did he
recognize the truth, the rare glimpse my decimated barrier against
the world provided?  Dad was right.  He's always been
right.  Hard liquor
is
for hard women.  He didn't
mean it would make a woman hard.  He meant that in order to
survive the lowered inhibitions, one had to be cold and hard in the
first place.

That should've been me. 
Isn't
it?  Aren't I simply a no-hearted vacuum where compassion
should reside?  That's how I did such terrible things, like
abandoning my father, taking his means of defense and pretending
he's dead.  It's how I didn't flinch after what happened to
Rick.

But here was Johnny – looking into me, like
he understood everything without a single confession.  He
didn't hate me for being who I really am. 
Precious
man,
my heart kept whispering.

My fingers sifted through his hair.  I
felt the sudden intake of breath, the expansion of his chest that
pushed me a little deeper into the back of the sofa while at the
same time, drawing me in deeper.  It was as if our bodies were
magnetically merging into one.  Tension built in him.  I
could feel the restraint he exercised while my fingers continued to
explore. 

A little arch, and I'd be close
enough.  Should I do it?  Would it be tempting fate,
unleashing a barely contained beast in the man holding me?  I
took a rare gamble, leaned in a bit more, tilted up and nibbled at
his lips. 

He let out a shuddering sigh that rippled
straight through me.

I did it again.  Nibble, separate,
shivery sigh.

"Helen…"

"It tickles," I said.  Had I noticed
the other night when he kissed me?  "The goatee."

"I'll shave it."

"I like it," I whispered.  Right then,
I couldn't tell where his trembling stopped and mine began. 
"Kiss me, Johnny."

He pressed his lips to my forehead. 
Not exactly what I had in mind.

"I'm gonna hate myself for this, I'm sure,"
he murmured.  "Ask me again when you're sober."

"Bring on the coffee."

"You know that won't make you sober."

My lips attached to his neck and drew a deep
rumble that vibrated against my tongue.

"Baby…Jesus.  Don't do this right
now.  Please."

"You don't want me anymore?"

His arms tightened, almost squeezing the
breath out of my lungs.  "I want you so much it scares
me.  But not like this.  Not when you're drunk and I
don't know if this is what
you
want or the booze
talking.  Believe me, it isn't easy to tell you no."

"I only asked for a kiss."

"Would it stop there?  I don't think it
would.  I don't think I'd want it to stop there, and I already
know that I'm hanging on by a thread as it is."

The fingers that sifted through his hair
dropped to Johnny's shoulder, crept over it and stroked down his
spine.  "I've been a fool."

His breathing grew more ragged.  "No
you haven't."

"Sure I have.  You told me you aren't
the playboy people say you are."

"I'm no angel either."

"Really?  How many women have you loved
and left?"

"None."

"Fucked and left then," I whispered with a
quick nibble to his chin.

"Dammit, Doc.  I'm not having this
conversation with you."

"Why not?"

"How would you feel if I asked you how many
men you've slept with?"

"It's a very short list," I said
solemnly.  "Only one.  My husband."  I paused,
couldn't stop the loneliness of my marriage from seeping into my
eyes.  "I have to admit it wasn't
particularly…fulfilling."

His eyes fluttered shut.  "You're not
making this easier, Helen."

"Why?  Is it less appealing to go where
only one man has gone before?"  The slow caress down his back
halted, settled over the thick muscle of his ass for a gentle
squeeze.

Never in the history of mankind could
someone have extricated himself from an embrace as quickly as
Johnny did.  He jumped off the sofa so fast that the room
started spinning again.  Either that or his pace was akin to
the fifty-yard dash by the roadrunner with the coyote in hot
pursuit.

My arm flopped over my eyes.  "Well, I
guess that answered my question.  Note to self: never admit a
paltry sexual history to a prospective lover."

Johnny hovered over me, manacled my wrists
and lifted me close.  "There is only
one
prospective
lover in your future.  Me.  Got it?"

I groaned.  "I really hate it when you
go all alpha male on me."

"And I really hate it when you flaunt the
fact that other men want you in my face."

"When have I ever?"  I struggled to
free my wrists from his firm grasp.  Johnny let go abruptly
and let me fall back into the cushions.  His body followed,
crushed me deeper into the sofa.  One thigh nudged my knees
apart as he settled against me.

"David Levine.  Jerry Lowe."

"Lowe?"  A wave of nausea accompanied
my startled reply.

"And don't think I didn't notice the way you
were paying such close attention to everything Zack Carpenter said
Saturday night, or your little crush on Crevan."

"That's the most absurd thing I've ever
heard."  I barely remembered saying two words to Zack
Carpenter at dinner.  As for Crevan, well, he was attractive,
but at the same time, not.  It made no sense in my jumbled
thoughts.

"Is it?"  His eyes blazed possessive
irrationality.

"Yes."

"Tell me I'm wrong."

"Johnny, I called
you
."

His mouth slanted over mine, hard and
selfish until it sunk in that I wasn't exactly resisting the
kiss.  Johnny groaned.  His thumb and forefinger anchored
my jaw while he fed slowly.  It stole my breath, numbed the
world away until I felt like the whole of existence had been
swallowed into nothingness. 

Johnny braced himself precariously on one
arm so not to completely crush me.  The light contact was
nice, but I craved the feel of all of him against me.  My arms
wrapped around him and pulled him off balance.  Full body
contact.  Mmm…so much better.

"Helen," he mumbled into my mouth.  "We
shouldn't."

"Why not?  You already said it. 
Only one man in my future."

"You drank.  A lot.  I don't know
how you're still conscious."  The distance between us grew
enough for Johnny to peer intently at me.  "What if you sober
up and hate me for taking advantage of you?"

"What if I'm so frustrated that I call Zack
next time, or Crevan…or David?"

"I'm not leaving until you're sober, and
believe me, this conversation isn't anywhere near finished. 
The sooner you sleep it off, the sooner we'll know if this is
really you talking or Johnnie Walker."

"Promise you won't leave me."

"Jesus," he muttered.  "I wish I was
recording this conversation."

"Why?"

"Because I have a sinking feeling that you
won't remember a damn bit of it when you sober up."

Chapter 12

I woke pillowed in a downy cloud of plush
bedding.  Something had awakened me, and it wasn't creature
comforts.

Nope, definitely not anything
pleasant.  The shrill bell on the phone beside my bed shot a
streak of white-hot pain through both eyeballs.  I fumbled for
the receiver, held it to my ear and rasped, "Yeah."

"Helen?"

I hacked the gravel wad out of my
throat.  "Uh-huh."

"Did I wake you?"

I squinted at the alarm clock.  One
forty-seven.  "Maya?"  I rubbed the grit out of the
corner of one eye and rolled up to one elbow.  "What's
wrong?  Did something happen after I left the hospital?"

"No," she said softly.  "Ken's still
here.  He finally fell asleep, and I wanted to make sure you
were all right."

Unbelievable.  She was worried about
me
.  Judging from the hot pokers stabbing through my
eyeballs, she probably had a good reason for the concern. 
"I'm fine.  Although I should be asking you how you are. 
And apologizing for running out on you like I did."

"Doc?"

I jumped so quickly that I almost dropped
the phone.  Orion was lying on the opposite side of the bed,
fully clothed but only half awake.

"Was that…oh my God.  You're with
Orion?" Maya whispered into my ear.  "Good for you,
girlfriend."

I stood with my back to the bed and
whispered my reply, "It's not what you think.  I promise, this
is not how it sounds."

"Come back to bed, Helen."

Her grin was audible.  "I think it's
exactly how it sounds.  I'm glad you're all right.  I
might send an SOS if Ken doesn't go back to work in the next day or
two."

"You don't mean that."

"Believe me, I do.  If I hear one more
tutorial on latent fingerprints or how to properly prepare the
plaster stuff to make molds of footprints at crime scenes, I may
lose my mind to the same waste bin my boob was relegated to."

I barked out a laugh.  "Nice to see
your sense of humor is back – and just as twisted as ever."

"Well, you know me.  Chuckles the
medical examiner."

I felt the awareness behind me deepen. 
Orion was awake.  Shit.  No clue how this happened. 
"Listen, I'll stop by later today.  I've got to meet Briscoe
and Conall about the dead detective from OSI.  We're hammering
out some details on how to proceed, but I'll make time.  It
might be late."

"I'm not going anywhere for a few
days.  Be safe.  And don't do anything with Orion that I
wouldn't do."

I replaced the receiver but made no move to
return to my bed.  My awareness of the situation deepened as
well.  Someone had stripped me down to my underclothes –
unfortunately a thong and skimpy tank top.  I was giving
Johnny Orion an eyeful from his vantage point.

"What are you doing in my bed?"  Two
choices.  Sit down and wait for an answer, or make a mad grab
for the bathrobe draped over the footboard.  I was about to
choose door number two when Orion's hand caressed my hip.

"Waiting for you to sober up."

"I am sober.  You may leave now."

The caress was punctuated by a soft kiss to
the bare skin.  "We haven't finished our conversation
yet.  You made me promise to stay, Doc.  I'm not about to
go now."  His fingers dug into my hips and pulled me down onto
the bed.  "Should I be worried about the frequency of these
blackout drunk binges?"

"I didn't…there was no blackout."

"So why did you make me promise to stay
here?"

"No doubt the emotional roller coaster
yesterday left me feeling a little vulnerable."

"You didn't mention that the friend with
cancer was Maya," he said.  "I'm sorry, Helen."

"She doesn't want the world to know what
happened just yet, so I'm sure she'd appreciate it if you didn't
spread the news to everyone you know."

"I'd never break your confidence."  He
propped his chin on my shoulder; lips brushed my cheek on a
determined path to my ear.  "What did I tell you last night?"
he whispered.

"I…" couldn't remember.  No doubt it
had something to do with his audacious behavior and the fact that
he hadn't stopped pawing me since I got off the phone.

"What did I say?  Do you
remember?  Are you happy you don't remember?"

Bits and pieces of a disjointed puzzle
rained down on my memory.  Mostly it was a sensation of
warmth, a comforting pressure that blanketed me and made me feel
safe for the first time in years.  I wished the blank slate
felt like a comfort.  It didn't.

"If I admit that things are a little fuzzy,
can I trust you to tell me the truth?"

"Look at me," Johnny said.  His fingers
trailed lightly over my jaw, nudging me into compliance.  His
eyes held mine, searching for something he apparently didn't
find.  Still, he didn't give up easily.  "God, you're
beautiful."

"That wasn't an answer to my question."

"No, but it was the truth."

"Johnny…"

He sighed, swung his legs over the side of
the bed and sat shoulder to shoulder with me.  "You were upset
about Maya, and as near as I can tell, got drunk off your ass and
called me."

"I asked you to come here?"

"You didn't need to ask.  I came over
and found you approaching hypothermia in the back yard."

"That's it?"

"Not exactly.  The rest isn't so
important right now."

"I'll decide what's important.  I'd
rather hear your perception of the evening so I can compare it to
mine."

His head rolled forward.  "Ah
hell.  You won't believe me anyway.  You made me promise
not to leave you here alone.  I agreed.  You're
sober.  My presence here is no longer wanted." 

Johnny started to rise, but something that
felt a little too much like desperation made me grasp his
hand.  "Did I say that?"

"Yeah, you did.  Two minutes ago."

"I was disoriented."

He shook off my grip and stood.  "And
now things are back to normal.  I get it."

The disjointed pieces gained the tiniest
measure of cohesion with every step he took toward the door. 
I dashed across the room and blocked his path.  "I kissed
you," whispered, "and you wouldn't let it go any further because I
was drunk.  I told you I wouldn't change my mind when I was
sober.  You said you wouldn't leave until…"