Rev (Jack 'Em Up #4) (12 page)

As the first star began to shine, she rolled to peer up at me.

No words.

Our eyes spoke for us.

There was something here.

Something new.

Something exhilarating.

Something I’d never experienced before.

Something scary as hell.

I wasn’t sure I was cut out for anything that she might need or want of me, but I found myself wanting to try. More than anything I’d ever wanted before.

Fuck it.

I leaned down and took her mouth with mine. I tasted the seam of her lips with my tongue and she opened to me like I’d unlocked her with a key. Her fingers raked through my hair as she drug me closer, stealing my breath.

I couldn’t get enough of her and the sweetness that seemed to ooze from every pore. She was intoxicating and so damn innocent. I ran my hand up her hip and waist, finally touching the curves that filled my fantasies.

“God,” I whispered against her lips. “You’re so perfect.”

I felt her tense up and her hands fell from me. I pressed one last kiss to her bottom lip then met her eyes. The pain and doubt I found there slayed me. “One day you’ll let me in,” I vowed in a promise born of my newfound determination to know this woman. “One day you’ll believe me.”

Her eyes fluttered closed as if she couldn’t bear to look at me.

I sat back and found her balled up fist in the sand and interlocked our fingers. Her face relaxed but she still didn’t open her eyes.

I couldn’t explain it, but I suddenly found myself desperate to have her open up to me. I just didn’t know how to make that happen or why it was so important to me. I watched a young couple stroll past, their arms wrapped around each other as they grinned and stole a kiss. What I wouldn’t give to have something so easy, to relinquish this baggage that dragged me down.

As if she read my mind, Jewel’s eyes slid open and she met my gaze. “I trust you,” she said softly. “I’m just scared.”

“Scared of what?”

She rolled to sit and face the ocean again. “Of being hurt. It’s hard . . .”

I understood better than she knew. “I’ve hurt too many people in my life and I’ve vowed to never do it again. I won’t hurt you, Jewel. I swear it.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“Yes, I can.” Then, I did the other thing I vowed to never do. I began talking.

I told her about Afghanistan. The suffocating heat, the rugged beauty, the hills that were scary as shit because we all knew the Taliban were hiding in caves we couldn’t see. I told her about my job in the tank and the friendships I’d made. About Juan Martinez and Johnny Franks, and Sarg, and Asher Creed. The brotherhood born of war. I stopped short of telling her about the blood on my hands. I just wasn’t strong enough.

Her eyes glistened with tears as my words tapered off. She lifted her hand and brushed moisture from my cheek. I hadn’t realized that my words would begin trickling out in liquid pain, and I hated myself for the weakness. I hated myself for so many reasons.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

“Don’t be sorry. I couldn’t stand that.”

“Have you told anyone else about this?”

I shook my head.

“Not even your military friends? A psychologist? No one?”

I thought of my straight-laced, unemotional shrink. Yeah, no. “The people who need to know were there with me.”

“Why now? Why me?”

I spoke truth as I knew it in that moment, recklessly giving her what I had, even if it made me bleed. “I don’t know.”

Jewel

I
couldn’t believe Micah was telling me all of this. I could probably count on both hands the number of times he’d talked to me these past couple of years . . . until these past few weeks. Something in him had changed, and as happy as I was about that, it made me a bit wary. My own trust issues were to blame, I knew.

I wanted to give him something in return and open up to him, but the words were trapped in my chest. What would he think of me if he knew the truth about what I’d put up with? Would he find me weak? Disgraceful? Pathetic?

“It was my ex.”

His brows curled down in confusion. “Huh?”

“You asked me who made me feel bad about myself . . . It was him. He wasn’t very nice.” I stared down at the sand. Talk about the understatement of the year. “Stupid to let someone do that to me, but that’s what happened.”

He cupped my jaw and lifted my face toward his. “It’s not stupid. It happens. I’m just sorry it happened to you. If I could erase it all, I would.”

How could he be real? Where had this gentle Micah been hiding all this time?

On impulse, I brushed a quick kiss to his lips. When I pulled away, he smiled at me and I’d swear it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Like a rarely glimpsed treasure.

“No need to erase it for me, Micah. I’m moving on and creating new memories and a new life for myself.”

He nodded once like he understood then faced the ocean again for a long moment. Then he stood and offered me his hand. I silently accepted and we continued to walk the beach, hand-in-hand, like we’d done it our whole lives.

I’m not sure what happened, but a short walk on the beach turned into dinner, which turned into dessert, which turned into snuggling on my couch for a movie.

I glanced over at the lilies he’d brought me on the dining table. I’d tossed the red rose in the garbage, but it was still heavy on my mind.

Who’d left it there?

I made a mental note to ask Officer Varga on Monday, though I found it hard to imagine him operating that way. He struck me as more of a pick-you-a-sunflower-from-the-field kinda guy.

Maybe someone got the wrong vehicle. I wasn’t the only woman who drove a white Ford truck in Baybridge. Could’ve been an honest mistake.

“What’re you thinking about so hard?” Micah shifted and paused the movie, freezing Tom Hanks on the screen.

“Nothing.”

“Liar.”

“How could you possibly know me so well?”

He shrugged. “I’m observant.”

“Uh huh.”

He shut off the TV and leaned his elbows on his knees, his eyes glued to the ground between his feet.

“Why’d you turn that off?”

He rolled his head in my direction. “We’ve both seen it and neither of us is paying attention anyway.”

Fair point.

“Can I ask you something?”

I frowned at him. Somehow I knew he wasn’t going to ask my favorite color. “Only if I can ask you something, too.”

Now he frowned. “Like Twenty Questions?”

“Something like that.” I sat taller as the idea blossomed in my head. “We can take turns asking each other things we want to know.”

“Anything?”

I swallowed. “Sure. But nothing leaves this room.”

“And we reserve the right to refuse one question. No questions asked.”

“Fair enough. You first.”

He leaned back and studied me. His scrutiny had butterflies dive-bombing my belly. “What was his name?”

I didn’t need to ask who ‘he’ was. “Nolan.”

He pulled a face. “Like Nolan Ryan?”

“Hey. Commenting on answers wasn’t part of the deal.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.” I studied him in turn, trying to think of a good question that would satisfy some of my curiosity, but not scare him off. I wanted to use this little game to my advantage. “When did you join the Marines?”

“Right out of high school. When did you get into art?”

“I’ve been artistic all my life. It’s my creative outlet. Do you always eat healthy?”

“No.”

I tilted my head. I didn’t believe that for a second.

“What? I don’t. I take care of my body and watch what I eat, but I’m not a zealot. All things in moderation.”

“What was the last unhealthy thing you ate? Not including the pasta at my place.”

“Cheeseburger and fries with my friend today.”

I grinned. “Huh.”

“That was two questions,” he said with a smirk. “Now I get two.”

“Okay. Shoot.”

He shifted on the couch and sunk further into the cushion. “Favorite song?”

“Ooh. Tough one. Maybe ‘Muskrat Love’?” I laughed at his wide-eyed expression. “’My Heart Will Go On’. Celine Dion.”

“Typical,” he muttered. “Last time you went on a real date?”

“I . . . well . . . when Nolan took me out for the first time.” I glanced away. If only I’d known what I was in for, I would’ve walked away right then.

It was silent a long moment. “Your turn,” he finally said, his voice low.

I peered up. “Your last date?”

I’d swear he rolled his eyes. “I went out with a girl from the gym a couple of times, but it was under duress.”

“Duress?”

“She hounded me until I said yes to get her off my back. Needless to say, it didn’t work out. Not when she found out the silent thing wasn’t to be mysterious. She got bored with me.”

“Sounds like a bitch. Stephanie?”

He seemed surprised. “How’d you know?”

“Girls. We know everything.” I winked.

He groaned. “Fucking Blake and Jesse and their big mouths. They tell their women everything.”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“Wouldn’t I what?”

“Tell your woman everything? If you had one?” I exhaled to calm my nerves. Why was I treading this particular ocean?

His dark eyes lasered in on mine. “If I had one, yeah. I’d give her my soul.”

We stared at each other for a moment and the air felt alive. There was no other way to explain it. I could almost feel every particle in the atmosphere brushing across my skin in an electric caress. “Whose turn is it?” I asked, my voice breathy, even to my own ears.

“I’m not sure.”

I tried to mentally rewind our conversation, but it was hard when he was staring at me like that. “I think it’s yours.”

His eyes never left mine. “Did he abuse you?”

My gut hardened into ice, solid and cold and lifeless. “Pass.”

His jaw tightened, but he gave no other indication of what he was feeling. He nodded once to acknowledge me and kept with the rules. No questions asked.

“What really happened in Afghanistan?”

“Pass.” He did not move or flinch or even blink, but I felt the wall slam down, its finality ringing in my ears.

“Okay, we don’t have to—”

“Why did you agree to go out with me?” he pressed on.

I sat up straight. Surely, he wasn’t serious. “Because I like you.”

His black eyes glistened with something I couldn’t define, but it made my insides squirm. In a good way.

“Why did you tell me I was beautiful?”

“Because it’s the truth.”

Micah left my apartment late Saturday night and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little shocked to be with him again Sunday morning.

But, as promised, he showed up bright and early with the makings of breakfast, healthy Micah style.

I smiled and let him in. “Good morning.”