Vindicated (10 page)

"Maybe you should punch something," Randy suggested. Jack paced the sidewalk in the courtyard, his booted feet making no noise on the snow.

“Are you volunteering?” Jack stopped long enough to glare at him.

“Well, if it’ll make you feel better, take your best shot.” Randy sniffed and rolled his head from side to side while bouncing on the balls of his feet. He took a big breath and thumped his chest with a fist. “Go ahead. Show me what you got.”

Jack’s glare morphed into a grin, and he shook his head. “I should. Just to wipe that cocky smirk off your face. Would serve you right.”

“Better men than you have tried.” Randy returned Jack’s grin.

“Go ahead and say it. You know you want to.”

“What? That I told you so?” Randy shook his head and sobered. “Dude, I wouldn’t do that.”

"I’m such an idiot," Jack said. "And to think I almost lost Ally over it."

Randy took a seat on the bench, while Jack continued to wear a trench into the snow-covered sidewalk. A rush of sympathy for his longtime friend brought unfamiliar tightness to his chest.

“You did the right thing, man. You stood by Chelsea. Ally respects you more because of it. As I see it, it’s a win-win.” Randy pulled the cigarette pack from his pocket and tossed it to Jack, who returned a grin of appreciation. “You’re a free man, my brother. No more Chelsea in your life. That’s got to feel good.”

Jack grinned and the tension in his shoulders eased. “Fuck if you aren’t right. I’m going to get so shitfaced tonight. You in?”

Randy shook his head. “I think I’m going to take your advice and cut back for awhile. Get my head back in the game.”

“Pilar still giving you shit?”

“Every damn day. I went to pick up Caleb and no one was home. The place was locked up tight.” His jaw tightened at the memory. “The harder I try, the more she denies me.”

“Yeah. She’s got it in for you, that’s for sure. Ain’t nobody can piss off a woman like you can.” Jack guffawed and slapped Randy on the back.

Randy glared at him in return. “You don’t have to seem so thrilled about it. Do I need to point out that you’re the one at the hospital for the birth of a child who isn’t even his?”

“Fair point, Mr. Mackenzie,” Jack said, considering.

They fell into companionable silence for a few moments, sharing their cigarettes in the quiet of the snowy courtyard, shoulder to shoulder on the bench. It reminded him of their youth, stealing cigarettes from Jack’s dad, and smoking them behind the garage.

“What’s Karly have to say about this deal with Mitch and Pilar? You ever ask her?” Jack broke the silence first.

“No, she hasn’t mentioned them, and I hate to bring it up. I might say something I shouldn’t. And it’s not her fault her brother’s a douche.” The collar of his shirt seemed to get tighter. He tugged at it and cleared his throat. Jack gave him a long, appraising stare.

“Are you tapping that yet?” Jack asked.

“Uh, no.” Randy gave Jack a playful shove on the shoulder. “And if I was, I sure as hell wouldn’t tell you about it.” He steeled himself for the good-natured ribbing sure to follow and was surprised to see Jack’s face sober.

“I like Karly. She’s a nice person. You guys have a lot in common.” Jack took one last drag off his cigarette and flicked it into a nearby snow bank. “We’d better get back inside before the girls come looking for us.”

Chapter 20

Silence filled the trip back to Karly’s apartment. Randy’s gaze never wavered from the road, and she never spoke. He walked to the door with her and stood beside her with his hands jammed into his pockets, while she searched her purse for the key to let them in the building. The deep furrow in his brow suggested he had something to say.

“What?” she asked after a moment. “What is it?”

“Nothing. I just…” His discomfort was beginning to make her uncomfortable as well. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry about the Josh comment. Hell, I’m the last person with the right to judge you. And if you like the guy, then…”

The sincerity in his words erased the tension between them. Relief flooded through her, cleansing away a weight she hadn’t known she carried until that moment. Randy stared down at her from his considerable height, rugged and handsome in his customary gray hoodie and brown leather jacket. Their eyes met. She smiled at him, and his lips twitched into an answering grin.

“Would you maybe want to hang out tonight? Watch a movie or something?” He shifted in his stance on the steps as if nervous, the movement stirring up the scent of soap and fabric softener.

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Caught off guard by his invitation, she floundered for an answer. The cadence of her heart increased. Was this a date? No, of course not. They were friends, nothing else. The minute she started reading more into his actions, the minute she opened herself up for heartbreak.

He stared at her, head cocked to one side, waiting. After the visit to the hospital, a plethora of unresolved emotions swirled in her head. Her chest ached with longing for Emma. She needed to see her, touch her, and know she was okay. The last thing she wanted was to be alone with her thoughts and wallow in misery.

“I could pick up something for us to eat. Pizza or whatever you want,” he said, his tone hopeful. A light breeze ruffled his hair and reminded her it was too cold to be standing outside. She shivered and tightened her coat around her.

“Are you bribing me with food?”

His solemn expression eased. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Chapter 21

With a huge bowl of popcorn between them, they settled in to watch a movie. Randy sat at one end of the couch, long legs stretched beneath the coffee table, while she curled up at the opposite end. After a heated debate on the merits of action thrillers versus gory horror, they compromised on a romantic comedy starring a famous former athlete and a stunningly beautiful actress.

“Do you think they’re doing each other in real life?” Randy asked abruptly about halfway through the movie. “They’d have to be pretty good actors to fake sex like that.”

“No. She’s married,” Karly replied between mouthfuls of popcorn.

“That doesn’t mean anything.” Randy kept his eyes glued to the television. The undercurrent of feeling in his tone reminded her of the terrible thing her brother had done to him.

“Not everyone cheats,” she said. “Some people believe marriage is sacred.”

“Humph,” he snorted. “And what do you think?”

“I think what Mitch and Pilar did to you was wrong,” she said then sucked in a horrified breath and held it, waiting for his reaction. To her surprise, he laughed heartily at the antics on the TV screen before answering.

“No offense, but your brother’s a douche,” he said. “And I blame myself as much as him or Pilar. It took me awhile to realize it but hanging onto that kind of resentment doesn’t help anyone.” After a few seconds of silence, he stood and went to the refrigerator for another beer, speaking as he walked away. “In a way, I think Mitch did me a solid.”

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” she asked.

“Because she didn’t love me,” he said as he returned to the couch and sank into the cushions. “Not really. She might think she did, but she always had one foot out the door. She was looking for someone better the moment after we met.” The bluntness of his statement struck a chord inside her. He certainly didn’t sound like his heart was broken. She bit her lower lip and tried to ignore the way her own heart skipped a bit at the idea.

“Have you ever cheated on someone?” she asked.

“No, and I never would,” he replied.

They turned back to the movie, watching without further comment, the silence occasionally broken by Randy’s hearty laughter. The sound filled her with warmth. To her surprise, she felt comfortable and relaxed around him, like they’d been doing this for years. About halfway through the movie, she forgot propriety, groaned, and propped her feet on top of the coffee table.

"You okay?" he asked, casting a shy sideways glance at her, sharp features illuminated by the glow of the television.

"Yeah, but my feet are killing me," she said. “They got a workout at Felony last night. I’m used to being on my feet but not moving around so much.”

"Seems like I owe you a foot-rub, don't I?" He was already moving to her end of the couch, pushing aside throw pillows and an afghan.

"I don’t think I can turn that offer down."

The words barely left her lips when he took her legs by the calves and shifted them into his lap. He peeled off her socks and tossed them to the side. Thank goodness, she'd taken the time to paint her toes yesterday. His large hands were warm and gentle in their touch. He rubbed deep, languorous circles with his thumbs, paying special attention to the balls and arches of her feet.

Tingles of pleasure meandered through the sore muscles, radiating up into her calves and farther north to places deep inside her core. Her head fell against the back of the couch. She closed her eyes, surrendering to the unfamiliar bliss. She moaned again. When his hands stopped their magic, her eyes flew open to find him staring at her with dangerous dark eyes.

“Do you have to moan like that?” he asked, his voice a husky whisper.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “You’re really good at this, and it feels wonderful.”

“It’s hard for me to concentrate when you’re making sex noises.” His cheeky grin caused the flush in her cheeks to ratchet up a notch, remembering her unbridled cries during their night of passion.

“I’m not making sex noises,” she huffed and gave him a playful shove with her foot. His grip tightened around her toes, holding them prisoner on his lap.

“I’ve heard your sex noises, remember?” He stroked a finger along her instep, and she bit her lower lip to stifle a squeak of delight. “And that was definitely a sex noise.”

“You’re high.” She didn’t dare look at him. The tingles of pleasure in her feet had transferred to a much deeper, more intimate place. She wiggled her toes impatiently and closed her eyes to enjoy the sensations. “More. Please don’t stop.”

“Yeah, I remember you saying that, too,” he said, following the words with a rasping chuckle. “Except it was more like,
Oh, Randy, don’t stop!
”

Her eyes flew open. This time his face was much closer, close enough to show the occasional strands of red and gold in the stubble of his cheeks, and the heat in his eyes. She swallowed hard, unable to look away when his gaze dropped to her mouth. The tip of his tongue slid along his lower lip.

“We’re missing the movie,” she said.

“Fuck the movie.” His left hand traveled to her ankle and squeezed briefly before sliding over the length of thigh and hip, following the curve of her waist and coming to a stop below her breast. His gaze dragged from her mouth to the spot where his hand rested. Her nipple leaped to attention, its peak visible beneath the thin cotton of her T-shirt. A smile ghosted his lips as his eyes came back to hers. “We can always rewind it later.”

“I’m down with that,” she whispered.

Before she drew another breath, his lips were on hers, parting them so his tongue could capture hers in an erotic dance. With the easy grace of a powerful man, he slid her onto his lap, her legs straddling his thighs. His large hands gripped her hips, pushing her down against the hard ridge of his erection. The stubble of his beard tickled her chin. Their kiss deepened.

The lazy caress of his hand elicited a shiver of delight. While his tongue played with hers, his fingers tickled the fine hairs on the nape of her neck, escaped from the ponytail holder. He tasted of beer and popcorn, his lips buttery and salty. She let her hands slide along the rounded swell of his shoulders, along the concavities of his chest, his nipples as hard and tight as her own.

While they kissed, his hands explored her body. They traced the strip of skin above the waistband of her jeans but never ventured inside. She tangled her fingers in the silky curls at his collar while he trailed kisses up and down the column of her neck, licking and nipping at the tender flesh along his way. The dampness between her thighs increased. She rocked gently against his erection.

They made out for a long time, lost in touching and tasting each other. From a very far distance, she heard the click of the DVD player shutting off. The noise of the romantic comedy ended, leaving them in silence but for the sound of their labored breathing. She sucked the tip of Randy’s tongue, and he moaned.

“Now who’s making sex noises?” she whispered against this throat. He snorted in amusement and tugged her earlobe between his teeth, tickling her with his heated breath. “I’ve heard them before, you know.”

“You’re going to hear them again if you don’t stop kissing my neck like that.” Even as he chastised her, he angled his head to give her lips better access.

The feel of him beneath her hands, the taste of him, and his clean scent intoxicated all of her senses. She lost herself in the brush of his work-roughened palms and the steady beat of his heart against her chest. It felt good to be with someone who didn’t want anything from her, who didn’t demand more, or—even worse—take without asking.