Smash Into You (10 page)

             
She looked at the floor. "Before you take me to the next town and dump me off, right?"

             
I opened my mouth to tell her that wasn't happening, but closed it. I wanted her to stay with me, I did, I just didn't know what was best. How far would he go to find me? Would he just keep searching for me, or if he didn't find me, would he go in search of Marley?

             
So I just said the truth. It was actually pretty liberating not to have to blow smoke all the time. "I don't want to leave you anywhere, darlin'."

             
She winced. "Please don't call me darlin'." I felt my brow bunch in confusion. "That's what you call girls when you're trying to placate them. Makes them feel special, but really it's a decoy move."

             
I felt my eyebrows rise that she had figured things out like that. "If I recall, I've only ever called you darlin' once before now. Just then was a slip-up. You've been sweetheart since that day in the bar."

             
"And I'm perfectly fine with staying sweetheart," she whispered, looking dazed.

             
I groaned inside. "If we're opening this can and being completely honest, I want to keep you with me. You..." Her eyes begged me to say something romantic and epic. She wanted this, too? Wanted me? I thought she just didn't want to be alone. "You make this life bearable." She closed her eyes for a few too-long seconds. "You're changing me, in all the ways I thought were dead and long gone. I thought I could never be more than I used to be, but you showed me that I can. That I want to be."

             
She didn't nod, but I could see her hopefulness on her face. But I had to tell the truth. "But I just don't know if the safest place for you is with me."

             
She didn't deflate like I thought she would. She smiled and stepped forward, touching my cheek. "I'm so glad you're OK. Let's go get some clothes first, and then some lunch second, and then we'll figure out what to do next. OK?"

             
I nodded. I was going to kiss her if she didn't... She pulled away to put her shoes on and I sighed. She had been so close to getting the kiss of her life. God, help me...did you send her to me? Because it felt like you did. It felt like you put her on this earth to find me and take over my very being with her goodness. I closed my eyes and hoped so.

             
"Shoes, Jude. I'm starving!" she taunted and put her hands on her hips. "Let's go. I think you surviving your bout of death on a platter deserves something—like a steak with mashed potatoes and yeast rolls."

             
I chuckled. "You got it, sweetheart."

             
All that morning, as I we looked around the Goodwill for clothes and shoes and such, I pretended like I was fine. My arm didn't hurt as bad, I was still pretty tired and achy, but this needed to be done. She'd taken care of me and deserved it. We'd been wearing the same clothes for days and days, washing them at night in our sink.

             
The tension between us was palpable. I grinned as I looked at her feet under the curtain of the changing room. She was trying on some tops she'd found that were frilly and flowy and all those things that girls liked. Yes, the tension was there, and it was more potent than anything I'd ever felt with anyone else. It was like she had a rope tied to me and was yanking for me to come to her. I'd never really experienced sexual tension before...and I loved it.

             
I already had my jeans, shirts, and a couple pairs of sweatpants to sleep in piled in my arms. So I was just waiting on Marley and then we'd finally go eat something.

             
I leaned my good shoulder on the wall next to her room. "You need any help in there?" I let my voice carry the notes of someone who was frustrated, but it had absolutely nothing to do with waiting for her. It was something else entirely.

             
"I could use some help," I heard behind me. I turned to find a woman peeking out, smirking. "Wanna help me?"
              I smiled. "I'm pretty attached to this one here." I jerked my thumb toward Marley's room. "But thanks."

             
She shrugged with a coy smile and disappeared. When I turned back, Marley was peeking out at me. She had a little smile on her scarred lip that I couldn't figure out. She grabbed my shirt front and pulled me into the room with her. Shutting the curtain, she turned to me and then turned back around, putting her back to me. "I do need some help actually."

             
There was a half-done zipper on the little blue dress she was wearing. I put my hands on her shoulders, gulping because she was soft in a way that I didn't know women could be. "Up or down?" I asked, but it was a growl if I ever heard one.

             
Goosebumps ran across her skin then, making me burn in all sorts of ways.

             
"What?" she breathed. It took me a second to register her shaking.

             
"The zipper. Up or down."

             
"Oh," she whispered and took a couple of heaving breaths. "Down. It fits." I didn't move. I didn't dare move yet. "Do you like it?"
              "It's a pretty dress," I said evenly, stepping forward a bit.

             
She turned, letting the zipper-talk go, and looked up at me. "Do girls hit on you everywhere you go?"

             
"Yes," I answered truthfully. "Girls, women, and even a guy once."

             
"Your ego must be the size of Lambeau Field."

             
Holy hell! Did she just make a football joke? "Packers fan, are you?"

             
"Who isn't?"             

             
Oh, my...gah.... I wiped my face with my palm. "No, my ego isn't the size of a football field because I know they only want to use me. And I used to want to use them, so it didn't matter. I'm the kind of guy that girls want to have a few fun times with, I'm not the settle-down-and-marry kind."

             
"Why do you say that?" she said incredulously.

             
"The first woman I was with made sure I knew that." I wasn't bitter about it. It is what is it. I wasn't proud though, and even if Marley left, I'd never be that guy again. "That is a dead life made to trick you into thinking you're living. Girls were the vice and provided the numbness."

             
She nodded, understanding, but I could tell she didn't really want to know. "I wish I could go back and do things differently."

             
She smiled sadly and whispered, "Don't we all." I stuck my hands in my pockets, more confused than ever. One minute, I was sure, the next, I was more in the dark than before. What did this girl want from me?

             
"By the way, that woman was an idiot."

             
"For hitting on me?" I quirked an amused brow and nodded toward the other changing room.

             
"No," she laughed. "That, I understand. The woman who told you that you were nothing but a toy...that's not true. I can see you finding that guy that's chasing you, breaking his neck for what he did to your mom, and then you settling down...being a great husband and dad one day."

             
Dad. That thought had never, ever crossed my mind.

             
"Really?"

             
"Yes," she whispered.

             
"Funny, I see the same about you." I smiled at the picture in my head. "A little girl that looks like you on your hip, all blond hair and pretty cheeks."

             
She smiled at the floor. "One day," she promised herself. She touched her lip in thought, or self-consciousness.

             
I lifted her chin until she looked up. I pulled her closer, letting my thumb run down the curve of her nose and stop to rub over that scar. She tried to pull away, but I just held tighter to her cheeks, holding her hostage, trying to give her back a little bit of all the healing she'd given me. She pleaded with me with her eyes, but I refused to release her gaze. The scar was soft and barely made a ridge at all. The pad of my thumb caressed and fell in love with that spot.

             
"Jude, don't."

             
"Why?" I said, truly baffled in that moment that she didn't see how I was falling hard for everything about her.

             
"It's...ugly."

             
I shook my head, knowing that was going to come out of her mouth. But I understood. I hated my scar, too. And hated when anyone said anything about it. But I... "It's not ugly. I've never wanted to kiss something as much as I want to kiss that scar right now. Gah, Marley, you are absolutely beautiful."

             
She melted, her body losing it rigidity and her face softening. She pulled one of my hands away so she could reach my jaw. My teeth clamped together. I should have known she'd turn the tables on me. She caressed the scar's length with her thumb as I had done. I stayed still for her ministrations, but wanted to bolt. But when she looked at me, she didn't look at me like it was sexy or like I was some bad boy. She looked at me like she knew exactly how I felt.

             
That was the only thing that made me stay.

             
When she leaned forward, pressing her lips to it, I stilled. She reached up on her tiptoes and placed three kisses spread out along it. I waited for it to be over, and begged for it never to be. She leaned back a little and ticked her head to the side. "It's a battle scar, Jude," she said, touching her lip. "Battle scars just remind us that we survived."

             
I took her face in my hands once more. "We did."

             
She watched me. "You said you wanted to kiss my scar..." I nodded. "Will you?"

             
She didn't have to ask me twice.

             
I lowered onto the sweetest mouth I'd ever tasted and I never wanted to taste another for, God, thank you, she was the only thing that kept me from falling over the edge to the end of me.

             
I felt her hands bunch in my shirt and that lit my fire. With full pressure and caressing, I gave her everything. Her lips were as soft and hypnotic as I imagined. She was timid and let me lead. I was intrigued by that, but right then, I wanted to hold the reins. I wanted to show the girl what she had done to me and for me. But later...I wanted to duel.

             
When I licked at her bottom lip, she gasped in my mouth a little, effectively opening the heavens to me. I was drowning in her taste, living in the air she breathed, swimming in the first moan that escaped her.

             
The dressing room was small and there were no chairs or benches, just three walls, one mirror, and a curtain. So I couldn't help myself as I turned us and pressed her to the back wall of the dressing room. One of my hands escaped and found its way to her leg. I lifted it to my side, my hand settling in the crook of her knee, feeling how warm and supple she was all over. 

             
Her fingers went into my hair, tugging and pulling like a pro. I pressed harder, conveying all the things she was doing to me. Her tongue was timid like she was, but it was nice to feel it brush mine softly, like she was taking her time and savoring me.

             
Then she reached around and stuck her hand in my back pocket. I felt my eyes roll to the back of my head under my closed eyelids as a barely-there growl rattled its way into my throat.

             
We both jerked when a loud bang resounded through the store. I leaned back, curious. I peeked through the curtain side and my blood ran cold and boiled at the same time.

             
Biloxi.

             
Hell.

             
I looked at her and put my finger over my lips to tell her to be quiet. Her face changed from confused to frightened. I shook my head and whispered in her ear. "It's all right. I'll keep you safe. Do what I say, OK?"

             
She nodded.

             
I grabbed Marley's clothes and mine and peeked out once more. He was creating chaos as he badgered the store clerk with a picture.
Two
pictures. He said, "Have you seen these people?"

             
Dang. He was looking for Marley, too. He wasn't going to let her go.

             
"Come on, sweetheart," I told her and we inched out, her fingers gripping my shirt back. We almost made it to the back door before a shot rang in my ears and the window beside our heads exploded.

             
Marley screamed and I pulled her in front of me in case the shots weren't finished. People screamed everywhere, yelling, scrambling, running. He'd only made it worse on himself. Now it was harder for him to catch up to us. He was slipping, getting greedy, getting careless. But why?