Colton 911--Soldier's Return, page 7
Letting them in the back door, Carly did her best not to glance in the direction of the camera. This proved more difficult than she’d imagined. She bent over, released Bridget from the leash and busied herself pouring dog kibble in a bowl.
“Are you hungry, girl?” she asked, setting the bowl on the floor. Bridget immediately began chowing down.
Carly smiled, though she still felt unsettled. As if he sensed this, Micha came up behind her and gently pulled her into his arms from behind. Mouth against her ear, he nuzzled her neck. “If they’re watching right now, I want them to understand that you’re mine,” he murmured.
She should have protested that statement. She wasn’t his, not any longer, but her brain appeared to have short-circuited. Instead of moving away, she allowed herself to go limp in his arms and relax into his embrace.
Bridget briefly glanced up at them but continued eating.
Carly turned. He kissed her then. A slow, leisurely exploration of his lips on hers, his tongue inside her. Despite her every resolve to the contrary, she kissed him back, a slow burn unfurling through her cells and making her knees go weak.
Just when she thought she’d collapse in a puddle of desire on the floor, he broke away, kissing first the tip of her nose before moving on to her shoulders and neck.
“I need your help with something,” he asked, still nibbling on her ears, which sent little shivers of lightning through her. At that very moment, she doubted she could deny him anything, so she nodded. He traced the hollow of her throat with his lips, making her again weak with longing. She knew she could move away, tell him to stop, but she didn’t want to. No one had ever been able to make her feel the things Micha did, not before him or after him, and she’d missed this.
“What?” she finally asked, breathless.
“After I turn in the rental car, I’ll need a ride to the dealership so I can buy something of my own. After that, I want to look for a place to live. Living in a motel is getting old and expensive.”
Somehow, he managed to make even that sound sexy. “Mmm-hmm.”
“And I need your expertise,” he continued. “You know the area. Will you go with me?”
“I will.” Taking a half step back, she finally managed to put some air between the two of them so she could think. “Are you looking to rent or buy?”
“Rent,” he replied, the heat in his gaze almost as intoxicating as his kisses had been. “I’d like to find something low maintenance, like maybe a condo or a town house.”
“I have a Realtor friend I can check with,” she managed, taking another step back when all she really wanted to do was lose herself in his arms.
Bridget, apparently having had enough of being ignored, chose that moment to give a single, loud bark. Eyeing Carly mournfully, she managed to make herself look both pitiful and expectant.
Both Carly and Micha laughed.
“I’m sorry, girl.” Carly dropped to the floor and beckoned the dog over. “Come here and I’ll love on you, too.”
Micha went still at her words, but Bridget immediately sidled over, tail wagging ninety to nothing. Carly began petting her.
“Is that what you were doing?” Micha asked quietly. “Loving on me?”
Unable to meet his gaze, she concentrated on her dog and tried for a flippant response. “Right now, Bridget is the only one around here who gets loved on.”
Then, feeling guilty, she glanced up just in time to see the hurt flash across Micha’s expression. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I’m not trying to be mean, just real.”
“Real?” He shook his head. “Real is returning my kisses. That connection we have between us is real. I don’t understand how you can pretend it doesn’t exist.”
“I’m not,” she replied. “But, Micha, everything with you is intense. Too quick, too fast and too deep. You need to slow your roll.”
“I’m trying.” Still, he smiled at her choice of words, which relieved her much more than it should have. “You know how you affect me.”
She ducked her head, unwilling to respond. He didn’t need to know the inner battle raging inside her. She craved his touch, his kisses, his body inside her, while also aware she had to protect her heart. She wasn’t sure she could have both.
Chapter 5
Micha’s initial intention had been to show the sick bastard who was spying on Carly that she was his and no one else’s. Frustrated, he’d struggled to come up with a way to convey the fact that he’d lay down his life to defend her, but other than speaking directly to the camera and giving everything away, he couldn’t conceive of one.
Instead, he’d done what he’d been aching to do from the moment she’d arrived home. He kissed her.
Like always, the passion simmering just beneath the surface had erupted. He’d struggled against the urge to take that kiss a step further, aware she wanted him to as well, which was the most powerful aphrodisiac possible.
Yet he hadn’t. One, because he didn’t want the voyeur to see this over the video camera, and two, because Carly had told him it couldn’t happen again. She’d practically made him promise and the one thing he couldn’t go back on with her was his word.
“Did you want me to go get something to eat?” he asked, aware he’d need the time to get his composure back.
Glancing up at him, he saw a flash of panic in her eyes at the thought of being alone. He hated the fact that she now felt that way in her own home.
“How about I order us some Chinese takeout?” she said instead. “Do you still like sweet and sour chicken?”
“Sweet and Sour Saturday.” He grinned. “I haven’t had it in years, but yes.” Once, they’d not only done Taco Tuesday, but Sweet and Sour Saturday, and even the occasional Meatball Monday. Though the first time they’d had Chinese takeout together would always be special. He wondered if she remembered and then wondered how she could forget. Was her food choice for tonight intentional, some sort of hint, or was she simply in the mood for sweet and sour chicken? Briefly, he considered asking her, but decided to do so would be unwise.
Though her tentative smile dimmed at his unintentional reminder of the time they’d spent apart, she nodded. “Let me call it in. They usually can get it here in thirty minutes or less.”
While she placed the order, he got up and wandered over to the kitchen window—and the camera—pretending to study her plants. One of them, a good-size aloe vera plant, jogged his memory.
“I gave you this,” he said, once she’d finished with her phone call.
“You did,” she agreed, coming to stand beside him. “It was a lot smaller. I’ve transplanted it twice since then.”
They both eyed the plant, neither glancing at the camera. He wondered if she also struggled with the urge to slide the plant over to block the camera’s view. Of course they couldn’t.
What they could do was move out of the area the video camera could see.
“How about we go catch up on the evening news while we wait for our food?” he asked her, casually holding out his hand.
After a moment’s hesitation, she took it, her slim fingers intertwined with his. “Come on, Bridget,” she called. “Let’s go snuggle on the couch.”
Though he knew he had to stop reacting to her every word choice, snuggle on the couch had him aching to do exactly that. But she’d been speaking to her dog, and the instant she sat down, she patted the seat cushion next to her as a signal to Bridget to jump up.
Ignoring Micha completely, Bridget did, curling into Carly’s side and effectively preventing Micha from getting close. Which probably had been Carly’s plan all along, Micha thought with a wry grimace.
Carly got out her phone and typed a text. A second later, his phone pinged.
Can the camera still hear us? she’d asked.
I don’t know, he texted back. “It’s unlikely since it’s having to record through the window.” He spoke those words out loud. “Relax. Since the guy who planted it didn’t get into the house, it’s unlikely there are listening devices or other cameras in here. Unless...”
“Unless what?”
“Have you had any break-ins?” he asked. “Recently, that is.”
“No,” she replied. Bridget placed her head on Carly’s leg, nudging her for attention. When Carly resumed rubbing the dog’s tummy, Bridget groaned with happiness. For the first time in his life, Micha found himself envying a dog.
“No one’s come inside to do any kind of repairs or installations?”
She frowned. “No.”
Relieved, he nodded. “If no one’s been inside, then you should be safe from any internal monitoring devices.”
“Good.” Carly used the remote and turned on the television. “I DVR the evening news,” she said. “That way I don’t miss any of it.”
For the next few minutes they caught up on the headlines of the day.
The doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of their food. Micha jumped up, motioning to Carly to stay seated, and went to get it. He gave the delivery driver a ten-dollar tip and brought the bags back into the living room.
“Let’s eat in front of the TV,” Carly suggested, sending an aggrieved glance toward her kitchen. “That used to be my favorite room in this house.”
“It will be soon again,” he reassured her. “Hopefully, that camera won’t be there too much longer.”
Clearing off the coffee table, she nodded. “We’ll just spread everything out here.”
Bridget, who had been eyeing the bag of food, licked her lips.
“I think your dog will like that,” he teased.
Carly cracked a smile at that, then reached into the bag and began unloading the containers. “Here you go,” she said. “I forgot how much they give you.”
He hadn’t. Everything about the first time they’d had this meal would forever remain etched in his soul.
The first bite—sweet and sour chicken, delicately breaded and seasoned with something that tasted like flowers—brought back so many memories that he stopped chewing and allowed himself to let the flavor wash over him. For the rest of his life, he knew he’d always associate mind-blowing, passionate sex with this meal.
“Do you remember...?” they both asked at the same time. Carly’s color seemed high, her breathing jagged.
“The very first time we made love,” she said softly.
He managed to nod, reaching for a second bite. After a moment, she did the same. They continued to eat in a kind of supercharged silence, he unable to help but wonder if she’d invite him to her bed after the meal.
“I didn’t do this on purpose,” she finally muttered, clearly able to discern his thoughts. “I just thought Chinese food sounded good. It wasn’t until I placed the order that I realized I might be sending you the wrong message.”
Struggling to conceal his disappointment, he simply nodded and cracked open his fortune cookie. The message inside made him laugh. “‘Better times are ahead,’” he said, reading it out loud. “Good to know.” Taking a bite of the cookie, he eyed her. “I can’t wait to see yours.”
She pushed her container away and reached for her cookie. When she read the little slip of paper inside, she shook her head, the tiniest hint of a smile tugging at one corner of her mouth. “Here,” she said, passing it over to him.
Reading it, he grinned. “‘Passion awaits you.’ That’s perfect.”
“Is it?” She leaned back in her chair, her expression once again serious. “If I’d invited you to dinner with the intention of luring you into my bed with sweet and sour chicken, it would be. But since we’ve already settled on the fact that’s not going to happen, it almost feels like...” She shrugged.
“Like I got the restaurant to put that particular message into your cookie?” Still grinning, he shook his head. “You know I didn’t.”
“I know,” she groused, her color still high. “But you have to admit it’s an odd fortune to receive. Why couldn’t it have said something like ‘You’ll win an all-expenses-paid trip to Cancun’?”
“I’d be happy to take you to Cancun.” The words slipped out before he’d had time to consider them. “If you really want to go, that is.”
“Figure of speech, Micha. That’s all.” Getting to her feet, she started to gather up the empty containers. “I can’t believe we managed to eat all that.”
He got up and helped her. Together, they took everything to her kitchen trash can. Both studiously avoided glancing at the camera. Bridget, having abandoned her sleeping place on the couch, followed them, nose twitching as she sniffed the floor.
“I didn’t drop anything, girl,” Carly said, ruffling the dog’s fur. “Chinese food wouldn’t be good for you, anyway.”
Micha couldn’t help but find the way she spoke to Bridget as if she was human charming. He checked his watch. “I guess I’d better be going.”
Again, that brief flare of panic in her eyes. But this time, she simply nodded. “I’ll walk you to the door.”
Until the actual moment he stepped out onto her front stoop, he’d harbored a wild and fervent hope that she’d change her mind, kiss him and invite him into her bed. Instead, she put on a brave smile that broke his heart and waved goodbye.
Halfway down the sidewalk, he pivoted, about to tell her he couldn’t stand to leave her alone with that camera mounted in her kitchen window. But she’d already quietly closed her front door, so he got in his car and drove back to his lonely hotel room, where he knew he’d spend the rest of the night dreaming about her.
* * *
Leaning against the back side of her front door, Carly listened until Micha started up his car and drove off. The awful sense of loss she felt at his absence both stunned and worried her. The video camera on her kitchen window freaked her out, and she wasn’t sure she’d manage to sleep a wink tonight.
Bridget slipped up next to her, nudging Carly’s hand with her wet nose. “You’d alert me if anyone tried to break in, wouldn’t you?” she asked. Though she knew the dog most likely didn’t understand her question, having her there made Carly feel slightly more secure.
“I’ve got a big day tomorrow,” she said, continuing her habit of speaking to Bridget as if she was a person. “I’d take you with me, but I’m not sure how my family would react. So you’ll have to stay here. At least I won’t be gone as long as I am when I work all day.”
She took Bridget out once more before getting ready for bed, glad of the way the back porch light illuminated most of her backyard.
As soon as she got into her bed, Bridget came and sat by her side, looking up at her as if asking for permission. “Come on up, girl.” Carly patted the comforter.
Bridget needed no second invitation. Gracefully, she leaped up, turned two full circles and settled into her place next to Carly’s leg. Carly fell asleep with the comforting weight of her new dog pressed against her.
In the morning, she had her usual cup of coffee in the living room rather than at the kitchen table. Today, she’d have to break the startling news of Micha being alive to her entire family. Knowing how much they’d all loved him, she felt pretty certain they’d be ecstatic, but she didn’t want to have to share her own conflicted emotions. She loved her family, but her personal life needed to stay just that—personal.
She tried to make the drive out to Oak Park on a regular basis, more often these days after losing her father and uncle. Her brothers, Heath and Jones, did the same. Since the two families lived next door to each other, they’d begun having combined dinners on a regular basis, attended by all the cousins. They used to have those all the time growing up, so everyone felt a faint hint of nostalgia, which made them miss the two elder Colton men even more. Their loss created a huge hole in all of their lives.
After spending the morning puttering around her house, enjoying her dog and avoiding the kitchen, that afternoon Carly got in her car to make the trek northwest to the suburb. Though no one knew yet that Micha was alive, she had still debated inviting him, but knew doing so would make more of a statement than she was prepared to handle right now, so she went alone. She couldn’t decide whether to break the news before Heath dropped his bombshell about the new murders or after. She guessed she’d just play it by ear.
Since the day was unseasonably warm for April, they’d decided to move the get-together outside and have a backyard cookout in their shared backyard. Grandma Jones had been positively gleeful at the prospect. She’d assigned everyone a different dish to bring, but everyone knew they’d all be purchasing theirs from Tatum’s restaurant True.
Since Carly had brought Harry to the last family dinner, she knew everyone would question his absence. That would be as good a time as any to tell them Micha wasn’t dead, after all, though she dreaded the assumptions that were sure to follow.
Carly’s brothers, Heath and Jones, were in charge of manning the massive stainless-steel grill. Two other men, Sean Stafford and Cruz Medina, stood with them, shooting the breeze. Carly’s three cousins—Simone, Tatum and January—were already outside, chatting with Heath’s fiancée, Kylie.
As Carly walked over, she noticed that January couldn’t seem to tear her gaze away from her fiancé, Sean. Ditto for Tatum, who was making googly eyes at her new man, Cruz. Since Tatum was a renowned chef who owned True, a restaurant downtown, she was in charge of the food. Everyone just purchased whatever sides they’d been assigned from her, which basically meant she was catering the luncheon, right down to providing seasoned and marinated cuts of meat for the guys to grill.
None of the cousins had inherited Tatum’s cooking skills. Simone worked as a professor at the University of Chicago, January was a social worker as well as a busy volunteer, and Carly a nurse; they all preferred to eat Tatum’s wonderful cooking over their own. Grandma Jones often chided them, but she, too, dug in with gusto to whatever Tatum brought, so Carly knew she didn’t really mind.
