Time of Possession (Seattle Lumberjacks #5) (18 page)

Just one night. One night to know what it
would feel like. Would that be so bad?

With a sigh, Estie stripped off her clothes
and pulled on a pair of flannel pajamas. They were perfect—she
wasn’t feeling sexy tonight, just confused and frustrated. She
crawled into the bed she shared with Marilyn, Spock, and Jim, while
Dozer chose to snore his little heart out on the dog bed
nearby.

Estie snuggled deep under the covers and
closed her eyes, only sleep didn’t come to her. She tossed and
turned for what seemed like hours, but a glance at the clock
revealed it was only midnight.

A veterinarian?
Leave it to Brett to
unearth something so closely personal to her.

Somewhere deep, down inside, she’d always
yearned to be a vet, but her practical side scoffed at such
ridiculous notions. She had a challenging career she was damn good
at. Strike that, make it
used to have
a challenging career.
Sure, she was still taking care of Tyler’s finances in her
conservative manner, but was she really the best person for the
job? Maybe he’d be better off elsewhere and so would she.

Brett’s smile swam in front of her, always
tinged with sadness, and she wanted to make his sadness go away,
but she feared she’d add to it. In the bedroom below hers, he was
probably sleeping soundly, surrounded by his own menagerie and
lulled to sleep by Bongo’s obscene lullabies.

Outside the wind rustled through the old
cedars surrounding the house, a comforting sound, bringing back
memories of family camping trips in the woods, camping trips she’d
always assumed she’d repeat with her own family someday.

Estie froze. A noise. An almost inhuman
noise. Like a wounded animal whimpering to be put out of its
misery.

She sat up and cocked her head to listen,
certain it came from her downstairs apartment.

Brett?

Had something happened to Risky? Did he need
her help? Or was it wishful thinking on her part?

Estie raced down the stairs separating their
two separate living areas and tried the door. It was unlocked. She
hesitated, rapping hard but getting no answer. If Brett was in the
bedroom on the other end of the apartment, he probably wouldn’t
hear her. She’d quietly sneak inside and make sure everything was
okay then slip back to own territory.

And how stupid was that line of thinking?
Did she even care?

This was so wrong in so many ways, yet her
twisted mind managed to justify it. Brett needed her. Or the
animals needed her. Yeah, that was it. Risky was injured, and Brett
would be too proud to ask for help, but Estie happened to be damn
good at animal first aid, and she could always call Sylvia.

She slipped into the apartment. A couple
night-lights glowed dimly in the living room and hallway, probably
for Bongo. She tiptoed by his cage, covered with a cloth, her heart
slamming in her chest. If Brett discovered her, he’d think she
nosed around his private spaces all the time, but this was the
first time she’d been in his apartment since he moved in.

Despite her misgivings, she crept along the
hallway, feeling her way in the dark until she found the open
doorway to Brett’s room.

The noises sounded inhuman and disconcerting
as hell, only it wasn’t an animal that was whimpering and
groaning.

It was Brett.

She stood in the doorway, conflicted,
afraid, not of Brett, but of herself. A small lamp on the table
beside the bed illuminated Brett as he flailed back and forth,
alternating between his strange moaning noise and talking to
someone.

“No. Don’t step there. No. Not there. No.
No. No. Rex, no, not there. Nooooooo.” He pleaded, his voice raspy
and desperate, as he lived through some imagined or remembered
hell.

Estie stepped closer. Tears streamed down
Brett’s usually stoic face. He clutched the blanket in his fists,
as if it were his very lifeline.

Gingerly, she touched him. His skin was cold
and clammy. He didn’t react to her touch but continued his warnings
to an unseen person, becoming more desperate with each word, as if
his life depended on it, and in another place and time, Estie
suspected it did.

“Come on, Rex, come on, buddy. I can’t carry
you. Got my hands full. The ’copter’s coming. You can do it,
boy.”

A heart-wrenching scream was torn from his
chest. Estie jumped back against the wall, wringing her hands,
feeling completely helpless. She’d heard about stuff like this but
never actually dealt with it. She couldn’t leave him alone,
couldn’t just walk out, not in his time of need. She couldn’t.

Gingerly, she turned on the other nightstand
lamp in hopes the light would wake him. It didn’t. She approached
Brett and touched his shoulder. He didn’t wake, instead he writhed
on the bed, groaning and sobbing, a man caught up in a nightmare.
Estie shook his shoulder. No response, no indication he’d left his
nightmare to return to reality. She shook him harder, and he shot
up in bed so quickly, she skittered backward until her back slammed
into the dresser.

Brett stared around the room, frantically
clenching and unclenching his hands. His body shook, and he blinked
rapidly. His breath came in rapid pants as he ground his jaw. His
eyes focused on horrors she couldn’t see, horrors inside his brain
that had nothing to do with what has happening outside or in this
room.

Memories. Bad memories. Horrible
memories.

From down the hall, the sound of reality
intruded. “Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Bongo needs sleep. Fuck
you.” They’d woken Bongo and he wasn’t a happy parrot. Not one damn
bit.

Brett shook his head several times. “Estie?”
His quivering voice penetrated her confusion. He sounded needy,
desperate, scared. Completely torn apart. Even worse, he sounded
like a man certain she could fix what was broken. If only she had
the same faith in herself that he had in her.

He sat up straighter, and the covers slid
down past his hips to his thighs. He slept commando, and she
couldn’t help but staring at his muscular chest bathed in sweat.
Her gaze slid down past the sprinkling of chest hair and the best
set of pecs she’d ever laid eyes on, to his flat stomach with the
perfect washboard abs. She snapped her head up before she drooled
all over his impressive dick. This was not the time to be thinking
about dicks. He needed her.

When his blue eyes locked with hers, all
rational thought ceased, and the need to comfort gave her a swift
kick in the ass. Not giving a damn about the future fallout, she
rushed to his side and engulfed his still-shaking body in her
arms.

Brett wrapped his arms around her waist,
pulled her onto the side of the bed, and held on so tight she
almost couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t complain, she just held
him. He buried his face in her hair, and his warm breath rasped
against her neck. He needed her. Really needed her. No one had ever
needed her before, not like this. But Brett, he
needed
her.
She could tell by how he clung to her as if she were the source of
his very existence.

Brett pulled his head back, his eyes
bloodshot, his face pale. “God, I’m sorry. Sorry you had to witness
that.”

“I’m not sorry. I’m here because you needed
me.”

He frowned, “I do need you, Estie, so much
it scares the crap out of me.”

“I need you, too, Brett.”

“I know.” He stared deeply into her eyes, as
if she had the answers she swore she couldn’t possibly have. This
man held her in higher regard than she held herself, which was both
flattering and scary.

“Can you talk about it?”

Brett shook his head. His expression flipped
from needy to closed off and distant. “I do talk about it. I’ve
been in therapy for years. Usually I can keep the wolves at bay,
but the stress I’ve been under lately seems to have set them
free.”

“I’m here. I’d listen to anything you want
to say.” She waited, hoping that he might think enough of her to
tell her what he’d been reliving that would cause such an extreme
reaction.

Indecision crossed his face, as if he were
about to admit something to her then thought better of it. “It’s
enough that you’re here.”

“I’ll do anything I can.” And she meant it.
Oh, lord, how she meant it. Every conviction, every lecture she’d
given to herself didn’t amount to crap right now.

“Don’t leave me alone tonight.” He pleaded
with his eyes. His vulnerability sucked her in, pulled her under,
and she wanted to be there for him more than anything else in her
world right now. Tomorrow might be another story, but right now was
what mattered.

“I won’t. I promise.”

“What about—about—” He seemed to stumble
over the words. “You have another man’s ring.”

Estie held up her ring finger. “I didn’t
tell you the whole truth earlier. Richard and I are through.”

He narrowed his eyes and shook his head.
“Through?”

The hope in his voice shot guilt through
her. “As business partners and any other kind of partner.”

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

Part of her shouted
what the fuck are you
doing, woman?
The rest of her couldn’t deny the rightness of
what she was about to do.

Maybe her attraction to Brett was nothing
more than a crush. Maybe right now she just flat out didn’t give a
shit.

Estie turned her face to his and pressed her
lips against his lips, which were cold and tense. It didn’t take
long to warm him up, though, because the minute their lips collided
the entire world burst into hot, consuming flames, leaving the
mortal world behind as they blasted off to places unknown. Estie
had never been much of an explorer but she sure as hell was
now.

They’d travel together side by side, neither
in the lead nor following, just two people on the same path. She’d
never been on the same path with anyone before. Not like this.

Never. Never. Ever.

And it was as scary as fucking hell.

* * * * *

Brett drew back and held Estie’s flushed face
between his hands. He stared into her bright blue eyes. His head
reeled from the power of that kiss and the words she’d just
spoken.

“Are you sure your relationship is over?”
Brett did not share, even for a night. Call him possessive and
behind the times, but that was how he rolled.

And Estie? How did she roll? Did she plan on
using him as her sex partner for a short while only to walk away,
leaving him heartsick and lonely? He’d be better off sending her
back upstairs than to put himself out there only to have his hopes
and dreams slammed to the ground. Yet he couldn’t give her up. As
long as there was hope, he’d fight for her, just like he’d fight
for his team to win the next playoff game, despite the odds.

Yet, he’d asked her to stay the night, and
she’d said yes. His angel. His fantasy. His obsession.

Looking into her deep blue eyes wiped away
his misgivings or doubts. When she pulled away from him and stood,
his heart sank. She’d had second thoughts.

Instead, she shooed the dogs out of the
bedroom and shut the door, turning to face him. “We don’t want the
kids watching, do we?”

He shook his head slowly. His heart pounded
so loud that his ears hurt. His felt his face freeze into a mask of
conflicting emotions as he tried to second guess this beautiful
woman.

Her slow, seductive smile clued him into her
intentions, and his dick took notice along with every other organ
and cell in his body. Her long hair fell over her shoulders across
her perfect breasts. The woman rocked sexy in flannel like he’d
never imagined. From this point forward, flannel would do it for
him more than lace or leather.

“I love you,” he whispered, the words
tumbled from his lips without any coherent thought on his part but
came straight from his heart. A private man, Brett rarely voiced
his feelings, preferring to keep everything inside, but he’d spoken
the truth, and he’d gladly suffer the consequences.

Estie’s hands flew to her mouth, and her
eyes opened wide in shock. He half expected her to bound away like
a deer. Only she didn’t.

After a long, painful silence, she swallowed
and shook her head. “You can’t love me. You don’t know me.”

“I do know you. You’re a kind, sweet, caring
woman. You love animals, and my animals love you. That’s all I need
to know.”

“Brett.” She spoke his name softly, a
thousand promises on the tip of her tongue, a lifetime of memories
in her smile, and a thin, ragged thread binding them together. One
slight breeze, one twitch, one wrong move, and the bond would
sever, most likely irreparable. He didn’t want to sever it tonight.
Tonight, they lived in a reality of their own making. Tomorrow
they’d pay the price for their lust.

Lust?
What a stupid term. It reduced
what was going on between them into something purely physical; this
was life changing and crucial to breathing.

With shaking hands, Estie slowly unbuttoned
her flannel pajama top. Brett licked his lips and held his breath
as she revealed inch by creamy inch of skin. He balled up the
comforter in his fists, fully aware that his cock took a hard
stand, waiting for its reward. She slipped the top off her
shoulders and it dropped to the floor. Brett’s heart went into
cardiac arrest while his lungs followed suit with respiratory
failure. He wasn’t alive. He couldn’t be.

His gaze fell to her breasts, small and
perfect, with rosy red nipples, obviously happy to see him. Fucking
hell, he was happy himself, deliriously happy.

God, she was beautiful. No words could
describe her beauty. No camera could do her justice. No man
deserved her. And especially not a man as damaged as him. But, fuck
it. Tonight she belonged to him and to hell with practicality and
reality.

To hell with anything that kept them
apart.