Hearts in Darkness (12 page)

And then she'd returned wearing his shirt. The black of it highlighted the contrasting pale porcelain of her legs and the fiery hue of her loose curls. Somehow, his body had found some last reserve of energy, because the sight of her in his clothes made his cock stir again. If he got the chance, he was going to give her his Station Seven baseball jersey with his name silk-screened on the back.

He'd been savoring the image of her wearing a shirt that would mark her as his when she'd pointed out the time. The air had left his lungs.
My time's finally up
, was all he could think. His gut clenched with unreasonable disappointment.

She'd noticed and called him on his shit—as she'd been doing all night. And he...loved her for it.
Yeah, I'm not even going to pretend it's something else.
Because, just then, as she kissed him—
kissed his
scar
—and told him she liked him and pulled him back from the edge of a downward spiral, he thought he just might be in love with Makenna James.

Her finger tickled the outline of his rose. He told her its simple story. “My mom had a rose garden. Yellow was her favorite.” He grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips.

Makenna pulled her hand free and pointed to the red cross on his upper bicep. “And this one?"

"It's the badge from my station."

She raked her fingernails over his left side. He flinched and swatted at her hand, making her laugh. “And this one?” she asked as she nudged him to sit forward so she could trace the big abstract tribal around to his back.

Something about her intense exploration of his ink felt incredibly intimate to him, but he just shrugged. “No story behind that one, really. I just liked it. And it took a long time to do."

She crawled in to kneel behind him. Her knees settled against the outside of his hips and her warmth radiated against his back.

He sucked in a breath and shivered when she pressed four kisses against the large Old English lettering on his right shoulder—the tattoo of Sean's name. It had been his very first tattoo—he'd lied about his age and used a fake ID to get it done on the day Sean would've turned fifteen. His chest felt full and tight at the same time, but above it all he admired and appreciated the way Makenna met his issues head on—kissing his scar, comforting him about the loss of his family, making him feel so accepted by wanting to understand why he'd marked himself again and again.

He anticipated her fingers before they fell on the lettering on his left shoulder. “What does this say?” She traced over the four traditional Chinese characters he'd had done on the fifth anniversary of the accident.

"It says ‘never forget.’ “

She kneaded his shoulder muscles, and he groaned and tilted his head forward. Her hands were surprisingly strong for being so small. After a while, her thumbs worked deep circles down either side of his spine until she reached the back of his jeans.

When she wrapped her arms around him and hugged, laying her cheek on his shoulder, he sank back into her embrace. It was an unusually peaceful moment for him. He felt so cared for. They sat that way for several long, comfortable minutes.

"Got any others?” she eventually asked.

He wrapped his arms over hers. “Another tribal on my calf. Wanna see?"

She nodded against his shoulder, then dropped her arms as he leaned forward and pulled up the leg to his jeans as far as he could. The black lines curved up and down the outside of his leg like feathers, or blades.

"Does it hurt?” she asked as she went back to massaging his back.

"It can. Some places more than others."

"Is that why you do it?"

He spun to the right and dropped his legs to the floor, his upper body twisting further around so he could search her face.

Despite being surprised at the abruptness of his movement, she leaned forward to kiss him. “Caden, I like your tattoos. I mean"—she paused and blushed beautifully—"I
really
like them. It's just..."

"Just what?"

"They hurt. And you said you got this one"—she stroked his left side—"because it took a long time to do. And the dragon was part of proving to yourself you'd beaten your fear."

He nodded, studying her face intently. She was choosing her words carefully. He could almost see her thoughts playing out on her face, a face he was learning to read better and better. A face he found so very lovely.

"I think—” She dropped her hands in her lap again and flashed her baby blues at him. “Well, it's like they're your armor."

Caden's jaw dropped. He didn't know what to say, because never, ever had he thought of all his ink that way. Instead, he'd thought of them as a way to remember, he'd thought of them as a form of penance, and he'd not minded, after a certain point, that they might keep people away. But he'd never specifically thought of them as offering him protection. But she was right. They allowed him to control the pain he felt—both physical and emotional—something that had been taken from him on that long-ago summer night.

Her observation was so in tune with who he was and what had happened to him he felt ready to turn over some of that control, to entrust
her
with some of it.

He lunged at her and tackled her against the headboard with the force of his kiss. He swallowed her surprised gasp as he pushed his tongue into her mouth, now tasting of the sweetness of grapes and oranges.

When he pulled back she was blushing and smiling. Her eyes scanned over his face. “These are sexy as hell, too,” she said, fingering his lip and brow piercings.

He threw his head back and laughed. Her timing was perfect. She had a knack for injecting humor in serious conversations just when it was needed. Her giggle warmed him. He leaned forward again and kissed her, scraping his bottom lip over hers to make sure she felt his spider bites. She whimpered and he grinned. After a few moments he settled back against her chest again.

Minutes passed with Caden leaning sideways against Makenna's abdomen while she stroked his back and he played with the ends of her hair. “You have the prettiest hair I've ever seen, Red. And it smells fucking phenomenal."

"I knew it! I knew you sniffed my hair."

He tilted his head to look up at her, chuckling uncomfortably.

But the beaming smile on her face was all pleased. “Don't worry,” she said when she saw his embarrassed expression. “I sniffed you, too. I love your aftershave."

He nodded and tucked his head back down against her. “Good to know,” he said through a smile.

More comfortable minutes passed and she sighed. “I still owe you an omelet."

He chuckled. “Yeah, we kinda skipped that, didn't we?"

Her voice sounded like a smile. “Uh, yeah. I didn't mind, though.” She kissed the top of his head.

"Me neither. And, anyway, I still owe you a pizza."

"Ooh, yeah.” She wriggled underneath him like she was dancing. “And a movie, too."

"And a movie, too.” Caden grinned where he leaned against her. She was making plans with him, plans for the future. He was fucking thrilled.

They lay together for a few more minutes, then Makenna yawned. “Let's get comfortable,” she said.

Caden pushed off the bed and extended a hand to help Makenna. He picked up the tray. “I'll take this out to the kitchen."

"Thanks,” she said as she pulled the covers down.

When he returned, she was lying under the comforter on the side where they'd been sitting. He came around the other side and shed his jeans before slipping under with her. “Oh God.” He chuckled. “That feels good."

She clicked off the lamp and then rolled over to him. He lifted his arm so she could fit into the nook along the side of his body. Despite the novelty of being with a woman like this, it all felt completely natural to Caden. And that made him cherish it all the more. Cherish
her
all the more.

I could get used to this
, he thought as Makenna fit herself along his side and slid her knee onto his thigh. He was bone-achingly tired but happy beyond anything he'd ever imagined might be possible for him.

Just as his eyes drooped, she pressed a kiss against his collarbone and squeezed her arm across his chest. “I love...that elevator,” she said.

With a sleepy smile and a full heart, he turned his head and kissed into her soft hair. “Aw, Red. I love that elevator, too."

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An author of contemporary and paranormal romance, Laura Kaye's hot and heartfelt stories are all about the universal desire for a place to belong, for a safe place to land. Laura is married, with two beautiful daughters and one cute-but-bad dog, and lives in Maryland with a stunning view of the Chesapeake Bay she appreciates every day.

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