Something Worth Saving (17 page)

“Thanks.” I smiled toward Logan, who waved, each one of my kids wrapped around him. “What happened to your eye?”

“Tried to break up a fight.” He gave a hard laugh. “They weren’t done.”

“I see.” Looking around, I still couldn’t see Jace anywhere. “With who?”

“Who what?” Kasey was focused on the hose before him but glanced up briefly.

“Who was fighting?”

“Oh, uh, your boy and Sean.” Sean was another firefighter who was constantly battling Jace for some reason. I didn’t know too much about him and had only met him a couple times. He worked on the pipe, so it wasn’t often they had to work hand in hand. It was probably a good thing, because with the way Jace spoke about him, I was sure he’d leave him in a burning building if he had the chance.

“Why?”

“Some shit . . . I don’t know.” Kasey stood, his forearm wiping across his forehead. “Ask him. Is that for me?”

“No . . . it’s for—”

“Aubrey?”

Turning around, I saw Jace coming up the side of the truck with a SCBA in each hand. “What are you doing here?” He stopped on the side of the truck, opened a compartment, and shoved them inside.

I couldn’t help but notice a girl following close behind him. Dressed in the familiar Seattle Fire Department uniform, she was slender, with long black hair and big blue eyes.

Great. Just great.

No woman wants their man working with Megan Fox. Not that she was Megan Fox, but she could have been for all I cared in that moment.

Jace gave me a smile, taking the coffee from my right hand. “This for me, honey?”

“Yeah.” His right arm draped over my shoulder, tucking me into his side. “Thought you’d appreciate it.”

“I do.” Turning his head, he whispered low in my ear, “Wanna try out ladder 1?”

He was joking. They had regulations against this sort of thing. But it was nice he was joking about it. After our distance lately, this was a good thing, right?

“Mmmm . . . it’s been years since we did it at the station.”

“In that case . . . let me show you my pipe.” He laughed, walking me back out of the way of the other firefighters and the girl, who was now talking to Kasey. In the distance I could hear the laughter of my children as Logan played tug-of-war with them and a fire hose.

Jace laughed. “I think they love Logan more than me.”

“I wouldn’t—”

“Jace . . . ” The girl who’d been following him was now holding a clipboard and looking at us. “I was hoping you could go over this with me so I’d be familiar with all the equipment.”

I didn’t like this girl already. I know, silly of me, but look at her. All big boobs, dark hair, tanned skin. Clearly she wasn’t from the Northwest.

“Oh, yeah.” Jace turned, his arm dropping from around me. “Sorry, honey. I’m working with the new recruit today. I gotta get going.”

“And she is?”

“That’s Ava,” Jace said. “She came over from Firehouse 17. She’s filling in for Leslie while she’s on vacation.” Leslie was a paramedic for their Medic 16, which they housed at this station.

Ava politely raised her hand to mine. “And you must be Aubrey?”

At least she knew my name.
That’s good, right?

Ava moved around to the other side of the engine and busied herself for a minute as Jace turned back to me. I caught the redness of his cheek and asked why he’d been fighting with Sean.

“He was giving Ava shit as soon as she walked in this morning. It pissed me off that he couldn’t just keep his mouth shut for one day.”

“So you hit him?”

“No. He hit me. I was defending myself.”

I gave a nod, but it bugged me that he was defending this girl he’d supposedly just met. “Should I be worried about this girl?”

Jace laughed, his tone amused but slightly annoyed. “Are you shitting me? Just because I defended her doesn’t mean I give a shit about her. She can’t even lift a goddamn ladder out of the way. She’ll be gone by the end of the week.”

“Okay.” I could tell it wasn’t worth questioning at this point, and the fact that I had questioned it upset him.

“Yeah. Okay.” He seemed displeased I would even question him, and I felt stupid for even saying anything at all. He had that way about him that could make you feel ashamed for asking a question, should it be the wrong one, without really trying.

Nothing more was said, as a call came in and the boys all hustled around and were out the door within two minutes.

Sunday, November 24, 2012

A
FTER SEEING
Ava on Saturday, I became a little determined to do something about the distance that seemed to be present between Jace and me.

When I saw girls like Ava, I wondered if Jace wanted that. She was skinny, toned in all the right places, and had this amazing shiny hair I was convinced she’d stolen from a Victoria’s Secret cover model.

Did he want that?

I didn’t exactly think so, when any time his hands roamed over the puckered skin on my hips that stretch marks called home, he never gave me any indication he found it repulsive. As a matter of fact, Jace had never commented on my weight. Even when I was nine months pregnant with Jayden and it was looking like two hundred pounds was coming in my near future. Never. He only ever told me that I was beautiful.

What was my plan for getting past the distance?

Sex.

It worked the night in his truck, for a little while, and I thought hell, give it a go and see what happens.

I had to stop by the shop that morning and help Lauren with an order that came in. That was when she handed me her book.
Fifty Shades of Grey
.

I wanted to burn this book, because everyone wouldn’t stop talking about it. Drove me insane. What was so great about it?

I was about to find out.

So I took it home and read a few chapters when Jace was at the bar watching the Seahawks game with Logan.

Just five chapters in and I understood the appeal, but was slightly disturbed by what I was reading. Lauren and Shanna were constantly telling me how they learned a few things from it.

I wouldn’t say I learned anything, but it got me thinking that this might be our answer to finding the spark again.

After I got the kids bathed and in bed, I walked into our room to see Jace sitting on the bed, that book in his hand and a sly grin on his face.

I paused at the door when I saw what he was reading, in bed, grinning from ear to ear. “Well, honey, I see you’re reading something educational here.”

Fuck
.

“I thought it was some kind of card game, and then I read some of it. Clearly not a card game.”

“It’s a book.”

“I see that.”

I wasn’t sure what to say, so I stood at the door, my hands restlessly fidgeting with the hem of my shirt.

“Come over here.” He tossed the book on the floor.

I straddled him, my legs falling around his hips. His hands went from the bed to my hips under his SFD T-shirt I was wearing.

“What” —he removed his shirt and went for the button of his jeans— “so you want, like, rough shit?”

“Yeah.” I shrugged, trying to wish the embarrassment from my voice. Swallowing, I looked down at him. His hands moved from his jeans to my shirt, slipping it over my head and letting it fall to the floor.

Tapping my hip with his hand, he had me get off him so he could remove his jeans, then returned and allowed me to crawl back on him.

Jace grinned. “You’re naughty, aren’t you?”

“I could be.”

“I want you to be.” Oh, how I wanted to hear that.

I glanced down just as he entered me, his hands roaming from my hips to my neck, where I’d requested them to be.

Once it got rough, I wasn’t so sure I should have asked for it. Was seeing stars supposed to be sexy? Was the lack of oxygen a turn-on? Maybe because I was becoming delirious?

Was my head knocking against the headboard sexy?

Not really. It was all painful.

But if it brought the spark back, what could it hurt?

Fuck that.

Who ever thought being physically hurt during sex was a turn-on had obviously been choked too long. By the lack of oxygen, they weren’t thinking clearly.

“Jace . . . ?”

At first he didn’t stop. He was into it, skin slapping skin, he continued.

When my head hit the headboard again, and his grip on my neck tightened, I cried out in pain. Actual pain, not pleasure.

“Jace . . . you’re hurting me.”

“Oh, thank God,” he gasped, rolling off me, panting. “This isn’t us.”

He was right. This wasn’t us.

“No more reading those books.”

“Deal.” He certainly didn’t have to ask me twice. I was most definitely not into this kind of thing.

But I was determined. I had to think of something and just went with it.

“You wanna try the back?” We had yet to try this in our relationship, and it seemed like something new. Something that could bring back the spark.

Wrong.

“Fuck, yeah, I do.” He was eager. I’ll give him that much — the mood was returning.

Then I was suddenly nervous when we had the lube out. “What if I poop on you?”

Lying on his back, he laughed, his chest and stomach shaking. “That’s not very attractive, Aubrey.”

“You have to admit” —my eyes were drawn lower to his arousal for me, and I smiled sweetly at him— “it’s a valid concern to have.”

He winked. “I’ll be gentle.”

With a deep breath, I took the lube in my hand and squirted a small amount into my palm. His breath hitched when I stroked him once, coating him with the cool gel.

Straddling him, I went for it. No preparation or anything.

Moaning at his touch, I threw my head back, taking his hands and placing them on my hips. “Move me the way you want me.”

That he could do. That he wanted to do it was evident by the lustful gaze he gave me.

Reaching between us, he positioned himself at my entrance, our eyes locked as he slid inside. With his head dipping forward, he licked my lower lip, plunging his tongue deep in my mouth.

That was the only romantic part. For me it was uncomfortable, burned, and hurt so fucking bad. But hey, he enjoyed it.

I steadied myself against the headboard and then lowered my hips.

“Fuck . . . that’s tight,” he growled, clearly enjoying it.

“That’s because it’s an exit only ramp,” I said, gritting my teeth against the pain.

“What?” He chuckled, a smile tugged at his lips.

I’ll spare you most of the details, because to me, this wasn’t romantic, but hey, if he wanted this, it couldn’t be all bad, right?

Oh, but it was. Every move I made hurt and caused pain I never knew could happen to my ass. I thought for sure I was doing irreversible damage.

With pain, I get cranky. I was at that point now.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his breath hot and heavy on my neck.

“No. Just don’t touch me.” I was in so much pain I thought I was shitting barbed wire. Whoever thought this was enjoyable was clearly smoking crack.

“Do you want to stop?”

“No.”

I didn’t want to stop, afraid that if I did, this moment when I felt close to him, the kind of moment we so seldom had, would be gone.

“Honey, if it hurts we can stop.” He grunted softly when my back arched, allowing him to slide in deeper. “Causing you pain isn’t exactly a turn-on for me . . . ” I could tell he didn’t want to stop — pleasure shot through him as he shuddered, “ . . . despite what you’ve read in that fucking book of yours.”

I squirmed but then gave up when I realized I couldn’t move with the grip Jace had on me, his head buried in my neck, grunts and groans escaping him.

The burning reached an all-time high, and I thought if I moved it would get better. My problem here was the lube I hadn’t cleaned off my hand. It was everywhere.

It was so bad that when my hand with the lube on it reached up to grab the headboard, trying to shift our position just slightly, I slipped and smacked my chin into Jace’s eye, only to have him reach for his eye and knock his elbow into
my
eye.

You couldn’t have repeated that shit even if you wanted to. It was so awkward.

The moment was lost as I rubbed my eye. “I’m sorry.”

Jace drew in a deep breath and moved me from on top of him to beside him, pulling away completely.

He looked at me, the skin below his eye raised with a purple outline, a bruise forming where my chin had hit. And while I wanted to make a snarky remark, I couldn’t before he removed himself from the bed, and I knew I’d lost him for now.

He moved away, back at least a foot, and then looked at me again, sighing, before he turned and walked away. Again.

Stupid book.

Look at us now. Two people, both silently trying to find themselves.

I felt like nothing we did worked out anymore. Remember when I said if you told me the passion was gone from the relationship, I just might punch you?

Right now I wanted to punch myself, because I got this feeling nothing had changed.

He was still a man lost in thoughts he couldn’t put words to.

Things are different now.

We’re not the same.

The dark was creeping in, like smoke spreading and smothering, the way a fire could.

If you have the open flame of a candle, and then put a lid on it, the fire will die. Without oxygen, everything dies. We need it.

Without oxygen, you’ll suffocate. Without oxygen, we were suffocating.