Finding Monica, page 26
Turning, Pid met Baker’s eyes. “Thank you.”
Baker nodded.
Pid turned to go, but Monica stopped him. “Wait!”
He immediately halted.
“Baker?” she said tentatively.
“Yeah, darlin’?” Baker asked.
“I’m sorry about your friend.”
“He wasn’t my friend,” he said, his voice low and harsh. “No friend of mine would ever do what he did. He deserved what he got—don’t for a second think otherwise.”
“I’m still sorry.”
“I know you are. Because you’re a good person, Mo.” Baker turned to climb back into the helicopter when Monica called out once more.
“Baker?”
He sighed as if annoyed when he turned back around, giving her an amused look. “What?”
“I’m glad it was me and not Jody,” she said softly.
Baker swallowed. Hard. Then, holding Monica’s gaze, he walked toward them.
Pid expected her to tense, especially considering the look on Baker’s face, but he didn’t feel her so much as twitch as the man stopped before them.
He lifted a hand and cupped her cheek. Leaning forward, he kissed the top of her head, then stared at her for a long moment before turning and heading back to the helicopter without a word.
The SEAL team all stood back as the pilot started up the engine once more. Pid was sure his nearest neighbors would be pissed since it was so damn late—or early, depending on how one looked at it—but at the moment he didn’t particularly care.
Without waiting for the helicopter to take off, he headed for his house. He wanted to get a good look at Monica’s feet. She’d had to walk on that lava rock too damn far, and he wanted to make sure they were cleaned and disinfected.
He pushed open his front door and wasn’t surprised to see that his teammates had cleaned up the broken glass. They’d also boarded up the back door, and he didn’t doubt they’d already arranged for someone to come and replace it tomorrow.
He set Monica on his kitchen table and framed her face with his hands. He stared at her for a long moment, drinking in the fact that she was here, back in his house, and that she seemed to be all right.
“I’m okay,” she confirmed, gripping his wrists.
Pid couldn’t seem to speak past the lump in his throat.
“Pid?” Aleck asked from next to him. “Where is she hurt?”
He swallowed hard and found his voice. “Her feet. The bastard made her walk on the lava rock without shoes.” He wanted to check them, but Pid literally couldn’t make himself let go of her. Everything that could’ve happened kept running through his mind in a horrible, unending loop.
Aleck seemed to know how he was feeling, and he nudged him to the side gently.
Pid grabbed hold of Monica’s left hand and gripped it hard as Aleck knelt down and took a foot in his hand. He examined both her feet, then stood.
“She’s got some cuts and scrapes, but nothing major. I think a good long soak will fix her up. Where else do you hurt?” he asked Monica.
“Nowhere. Just my feet.”
“Now’s not the time to be a hero,” Pid chided gently. “Whatever he did, we’ll deal with it.”
Monica reached up and palmed the side of Pid’s face. He felt her touch down to his soul. “I’m fine. I mean, he hurt me, hit me a few times, but I was out of it for most of the boat ride to the other island. He kept me drugged, which was probably a good thing because given how choppy it was, I probably would’ve puked my guts out,” she said. “He pulled up to the shore fairly close to where you found us. He carried me most of the way, then we waited for you to show up.”
Pid closed his eyes in relief. It would have killed him to know Bull had assaulted her, but it wouldn’t have changed how he felt about her. Not in the least.
“If you’re sure you’re okay, we’ll go,” Mustang said. “If you need anything, you know all you have to do is ask. I’m sure El is going to want to come check on you guys tomorrow.”
“Same for Lexie,” Midas said.
“And Kenna,” Aleck added.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if Ashlyn found her way over here,” Slate threw in.
Pid was grateful for the support, but the last thing he wanted was for Monica to have to entertain everyone so soon after what happened. He opened his mouth to tell them but Monica beat him to it.
“I appreciate that so much. And I’ll text them tomorrow, but can you maybe…would they be offended if I asked for a day before they came over?” Monica said. “I think Stuart needs some time.”
Pid jerked in surprise. His friends smirked.
“Of course. But when Elodie gets stressed, she cooks. Would you object to us dropping something off?” Mustang asked.
“Of course not.”
“Lexie will be fine with that as long as you text her,” Midas told her.
“And as long as you’re still coming to the wedding this weekend, Kenna’ll be cool,” Aleck said. “You are still coming, right?”
“We wouldn’t miss it,” Monica said.
Pid knew he should be the one reassuring his friends, but he was too raw right now. He’d almost lost Mo before he’d really even had her. Monica was exactly right—he did need some time.
“I’m thinking Huttner’s going to want to talk to you both ASAP,” Mustang said. “But I’ll see if I can buy you a short break. You might need to come to the base to talk to him tomorrow afternoon.”
Pid nodded. He didn’t like it, but he knew he needed to talk to his commander. They both did. Baker would most certainly be in touch with Huttner, letting him know what happened to Bull, but both he and Monica would need to add their account of what happened as well. If nothing else, to protect Baker.
“Glad you guys are all right,” Slate said, clasping Pid on the shoulder before he headed for the door.
“Same,” Aleck said. “But I’m not surprised. Your woman is tough as shit.”
Each of his teammates added their agreement to Aleck’s comment before they all headed out, finally leaving Pid alone with Monica.
He put his arms under her and lifted, heading for her bedroom. Putting her down on her bed, he ordered, “Stay.”
She smiled, and that dimple in her cheek nearly brought him to his knees. He’d come too close to never seeing it again.
“What am I, a dog?”
“No,” Pid said seriously. “You’re mine.”
Then he turned before he blurted something else she wasn’t ready to hear, heading for the bathroom. By the time he’d prepared a bowl of warm, soapy water and a washcloth and returned to her room, she was standing by the dresser, having already changed clothes.
He wanted to scold her for standing on her injured feet, but he couldn’t. Not when she’d put on one of his T-shirts…and from what he could tell, nothing else.
“I hope you don’t mind. I kinda stole this the other day when I did laundry. Your shirts are more comfortable to sleep in than the pajama set I bought.”
Pid cleared his throat before saying, “I don’t mind. Anytime you want to steal my clothes, feel free.”
She smiled at him again. “I’m not sure anything else will really fit.”
Pid put the bowl of water on the floor and held out his hand. She took it without hesitation, and once more his heart nearly melted. He urged her to sit on the bed and, once she was settled, he ever so gently cleaned her feet.
Aleck had been right, there weren’t any deep cuts on her soles, thank goodness. Mostly just scrapes. She’d been lucky—very lucky. If she’d had to run from Bull or walk any distance on the sharp lava, it would’ve been a different story.
He dried her feet and remained kneeling in front of her.
“Stuart?” she asked a little uncertainly.
“You did good out there,” he blurted. “There wasn’t time to really explain what was happening, but you didn’t panic. Especially with the rope-and-helicopter thing.”
She blew his mind with her next words. “I was scared, but I knew you wouldn’t let anything happen to me. I trusted you to find me and get me out of there.”
“You trusted me?” Pid croaked.
“Yes. I admit that for a second, when I was dangling on that rope like a fish on the end of a line, and you reached out, I had a hard time seeing anything but my past. But then I realized where I was, and whose hand was reaching for me. You told me that before we could move our relationship forward, physically, I had to trust you. I didn’t think that was possible…but when push came to shove out there, I realized that I’ve trusted you for a while.”
“Mo,” Pid said, his voice reverent.
“You’re a good man, Stuart,” Monica said. “And you’re nothing like my father or the military men I grew up around. I trust you. One hundred percent.”
Pid stood and slowly climbed onto the bed with her. She scooted backward, then sighed when he put his arms around her and lay back.
She immediately snuggled into him, and Pid couldn’t remember a time when he’d been as content as he was right that second. They lay there in each other’s arms for a long moment before she spoke, mumbling into his chest. “Stay?”
Wild horses couldn’t tear him away from her. He nodded and kissed her temple.
“Stuart?”
“Yeah, Mo?”
“I think I’m too tired right now to do more than this…but I expect you to live up to my fantasies tomorrow. You know…now that I trust you and all.”
Pid laughed. He couldn’t help it. “There’s no rush.”
Monica pushed up on an elbow. “Wrong. I want you, Stuart. And you promised.”
He kind of liked this aggressive side of her.
“Unless you’ve changed your mind,” she said a little uncertainly.
In response, Pid pulled her down and covered her lips with his own. He was a little aggressive, but he couldn’t help it. He hated that Monica was unsure about his feelings for even a second.
After several minutes of kissing, he pulled back just enough so they could both breathe. His nose brushed hers as he said, “I love you, Monica Collins. I hadn’t realized how much until you were almost taken from me. I want you to stay with me. In Hawaii. You can accept that job at Head Start we both know Sylvia’s gonna offer you and we’ll get married. Then we’ll have all the kids you want.”
She smiled. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?” he asked, knowing he’d been a little presumptuous. Okay, a lot presumptuous.
“Uh-huh.”
He waited for a second, then added, “And we’ll make this the master, because it’s got the safe room. Even though it’s smaller, we don’t need a big bed…not when you’re gonna sleep just like this every night.”
She chuckled. “You might want to wait on that decision. I could be a horrible sleeper. Always shifting and moving, kicking you. A king-size bed might be the better option.”
“Never,” he vowed.
“This is weird,” she mused. “Us talking about marriage and kids when we haven’t slept in the same bed even one night together.”
“Fine. I’ll bring it up again in the morning, after we’ve slept together.”
Monica laughed. Then sobered. “Are you sure you wouldn’t mind making this the master?”
“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I did,” Pid assured her.
“I didn’t make it in time…when he showed up,” Monica said quietly.
Hating that she was still thinking about that asshole, but knowing what happened would haunt her for a while, Pid tucked her head into the crook of his neck, sifting his fingers through her silky hair. He didn’t know what to say to make her feel better, so he didn’t say anything, just held her.
He felt her sigh, then lift her head. “I’m okay,” she said firmly. “He can’t hurt anyone else again.”
“No, he can’t.”
Monica put her head back down and stroked his chest with her left hand. Then she held it up and studied it. “I used to hate this hand,” she said. “I thought it was hideous, and it reminded me of the pain that I went through when it got smashed. Every time I saw it, I’d think of my father and what he’d done. What he’d taught me. But you know what?”
“What, love?”
“It’s just a hand.”
Pid grabbed it and kissed the palm before pressing it to his heart. “It’s your hand. That makes it beautiful.”
He felt her snort against him, and he smiled.
“I love you, Stuart. Saying that scares me to death, but I know I wouldn’t trust you if I didn’t love you. And I wouldn’t love you if I didn’t trust you. For me, they go hand in hand. I just…I wanted you to know.”
Pid thought his heart was going to burst out of his chest. “I love you too. Tomorrow, when we’re both rested, and everything that happened tonight isn’t so fresh, I’ll show you how much.”
“Maybe I’ll show you,” she countered.
Pid loved this feisty side of Monica. He hadn’t seen much of it. “Deal,” he said. “Now sleep.”
“The light’s on,” she said.
“Yup.”
“It’s not going to bother you?” she asked.
“No. You?”
“No, it’s fine. After everything that happened, I think I like it on. At least for tonight.”
Pid made a mental note to get a nightlight, pronto. Maybe he’d text Mustang and ask him to get one and bring it over when he and Elodie dropped off whatever dish she made for them.
He felt and heard Monica sigh, and then she melted even further into him.
He thought he’d lie awake reliving everything that happened, but as soon as he heard her deep breaths and felt the warm puffs of air against his neck, Pid relaxed completely and let himself fall into a deep, healing slumber.
Chapter Twenty
Monica woke slowly, feeling better than she could remember feeling in a very long time. It wasn’t until she felt someone’s hand caressing her thigh that she realized she wasn’t alone, and everything came back in a rush.
Shane. The boat. Baker showing up. Shane being burned alive by lava. Stuart. The ride up to the chopper. Grabbing Stuart’s hand.
Him saying he loved her, and Monica returning the words.
Opening her eyes, she looked over at the clock. It was almost eleven. She never slept this late, but then again, she hadn’t fallen asleep until almost daybreak.
“Good morning,” Stuart said in a deep, rumbly voice.
“Morning,” Monica said, stretching experimentally. Yup, she felt surprisingly good, considering all that had happened. Her movements jostled Stuart’s hand, and she felt his fingertips against her sensitive inner thigh.
“You feel okay? How are your feet?”
It was hard to take stock of her body with Stuart touching her like he was, but she did her best to concentrate. She was a little sore, but her feet felt all right. “I’m great,” she told him. “And lying here, my feet feel fine. Ask me again once I’m upright.”
He nodded, and his hand shifted once more, sliding between her legs, almost touching her where she needed him most.
“Stuart?”
“Hmmmm?” he murmured.
When his fingers only teased, and his thumb caressed her inner thigh, Monica shifted impatiently. “Are you gonna touch me already or what?”
His gaze came up to meet hers. “You want that?”
“Yes.” Her answer was short and to the point.
“I love you,” he said, his gaze pinning her in place.
“I love you too,” she told him. The words fell off her lips without hesitation.
The small smile that crossed his face was worth all the angst she’d been through recently. Her world had transformed in a way she never could’ve predicted, but she wouldn’t change anything about what had happened to her if it meant she’d end up right here, right now, with Stuart.
Without breaking eye contact, his hand finally moved to where she wanted it. His fingertips brushed lightly over her sex, but the barrier of her underwear kept her from feeling too much.
Without a word, she reached down and pushed the elastic over her hips, lifting her ass off the bed and doing her best to shove the material down. Stuart was no help whatsoever. He just watched as she struggled to take off her underwear.
“Some help here?” she asked.
His hands brushed hers away and he ever so slowly peeled the cotton down her legs, never once taking his eyes off hers. It was startlingly seductive, and by the time she kicked her panties off, Stuart’s hand was back between her legs.
The T-shirt she was wearing was rucked up around her waist, leaving her bare and open to his fingers. He shifted, moving down her body until he was lying between her legs. His gaze was no longer fixed on her face—it was now entirely focused on her pussy.
For some reason, Monica thought Stuart would be gentle, especially the first time they made love. She hadn’t even expected him to go down on her, but she definitely wasn’t going to complain.
When he grabbed her thighs and roughly shoved them open, Monica couldn’t help but gasp.
That got his attention. His fingers squeezed her bare thighs for a moment before she saw his jaw tighten. “Sorry,” he muttered, his thumbs brushing back and forth over her sensitive skin as if in apology.
“You just surprised me,” she said.
Stuart took a deep breath, then said, “I’m so turned on, I’m not sure how gentle I can be.”
With any other man, Monica might pull back, try to slow things down. But this was Stuart—and she trusted him. It was a heady feeling. She reached down and ran her fingers through his hair. “I don’t need gentle. I won’t break.”
As if her words were all he needed to hear, his hands tightened around her thighs once more and he scooted forward a little, putting his mouth right over her soaking-wet pussy. “If it gets to be too much, all you have to do is tell me,” Stuart said.
Monica nodded and opened her mouth to tell him that she trusted him, but she never got the chance. All that came out was a strangled umph, because he’d dropped his head and was eating her out as if she were a four-course meal—and he was ravenous.
