Had to Be You: Bad Boys of Red Hook Page 20

  “Yes, about that.”

  “My overreaction?”

  “No. What I said this morning.”

  “What about it?” Man, it was amazing to see his walls go up. His whole body tensed—even his nostrils. It was as if he were just waiting for a body blow. She’d never had so much power over anyone.

  She put her hand on his shoulder and then slid it down to his belt buckle. “I was scared this morning. Overwhelmed and, well, I reacted badly.”

  His hands went around her waist and squeezed as if he wanted to hold her, but didn’t trust himself. Or maybe he just didn’t trust her. She wasn’t sure.

  “What scared you?”

  “What scared me? What didn’t? Look, I don’t know how to do this, Slater. I’m not in touch with my inner anything. Hell, until I met you, I didn’t even know I could have these kinds of feelings and I’m just not good at this. I mean it’s one thing to have really great sex—that’s safe. But great sex wasn’t what we had. Great sex doesn’t include tears and feelings. I freaked out and tried to put you back in that safety zone. But then you left me—”

  His hold tightened but he didn’t pull her close. He looked as if he was trying to decide whether to push her away or strangle her. He was just a little bit pissy. “I didn’t leave.”

  “Bullshit. When you came upstairs and told me Jackson had come out of the coma, you looked right through me. You might as well have been gone.”

  “I was just doing what you said you wanted. Just sex, no emotion, remember? I left the emotion at the door.”

  “Yeah, well, it sucked.”

  “It was no picnic for me either, sweetheart.”

  “I was afraid that after we found out Jax was going to be okay and you left the room—” She took a deep breath. “I was afraid you were going to leave.”

  He actually looked affronted. Leaving damsels in distress must be against the superhero bro code. “I told you I would wait.”

  “Hey, I didn’t say any of this made sense. I’m just telling you what happened.”

  “Fine, I’ll shut up.”

  “Good. Now where was I?’

  “You were afraid I’d dump you at the hospital even though I said I’d wait.”

  “Oh right. When I came out, I expected you to be gone, but then I caught you flirting with that nurse—”

  “I wasn’t flirting.” It was the affronted look all over again.

  She really needed to get that rule book. “That’s not the point.”

  He opened his mouth to say something, so she held up her hand to stop him. “The point is, I can’t tell you how relieved I felt when I found you waiting for me. I couldn’t even get pissed about the whole flirting thing.”

  He blew out a breath and gave her another squeeze. “I was not flirting.”

  Exasperation can really be sexy. “Whatever.”

  “That nurse thinks we’re married.”

  “And married people don’t flirt?”

  He opened his mouth and then shut it. Which was a good thing because she knew for a fact married people flirt all the time and not always with their spouses. “Fine, you have me there, but I wasn’t flirting.”

  “Would you just forget about the flirting, please?”

  “It’s not hard to forget something I never did.”

  “Good.” She shook her head. “I think I won, but then this wasn’t supposed to be a fight. Darn it.”

  He didn’t look real pleased either.

  She rested her head against his chest. “I always thought I was a good communicator until today and you’re not helping matters. Why can’t you just read my mind and then decipher it for me? Is that too much to ask?”

  He let out a laugh. “Now that’s a scary thought. But even if I could read your mind, it would never work. Sweetheart, you didn’t trust me enough to know I’d stick around, so what makes you think you’d trust what I said?”

  “It wasn’t that I didn’t trust you. It’s just that I seem to have a habit of pushing people away, and I was afraid that’s what I’d done. I didn’t mean to push, but then I’ve been told that I’m the pushiest broad my brother’s ever known. Do you believe he said that?”

  Surprisingly, Slater didn’t look the least bit shocked. As a matter of fact, he looked as if it was all he could do not to agree or laugh, maybe both.

  “I’m still here. When I decide to leave, I promise you’ll know. As for figuring out what’s going through that mind of yours, just give it some time. Maybe things will sort themselves out and start to make sense.”

  She got the guts to look into his eyes and he finally pulled her close. It was like a puzzle piece locked into place and she didn’t want to move, but then her stomach growled. “So, are you hungry?”

  “I can eat.”

  She pulled away and raided the refrigerator, hoping Slater knew what he was talking about when it came to what was going on in her head. She was confused, and that was a new one on her. She’d always known what she wanted and went for it. Right now, the only thing she knew was that she wanted Slater—she just didn’t know exactly what for or why.

  CHAPTER 15

  After eating brunch, Slater washed the dishes and Rocki dried. At least she’d eaten, but since that weird conversation, she hadn’t said much. “When are we supposed to be back at the hospital?”

  Rocki had been lost in thought, and from the looks of it, she was doing some deep thinking. “I’m supposed to bring Jax what he considers real food—a burger and fries from his favorite hole-in-the-wall. I thought the three of us could have dinner together.”

  “And he’s okay with that?”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t ask him. The way I see it, if he wants to eat, he can learn some manners and behave himself.”

  “Well, that sounds like fun.”

  “Even when he’s badly behaved, he’s usually entertaining. In any case, it will be an improvement over the last two days.”

  Maybe for Rocki. For Slater, he wasn’t so sure. Now he not only had to deal with the whole hospital thing, but an überprotective older brother. With any luck they’d move Jackson out of the ICU and into a regular room—that might help. It couldn’t hurt. He gave Rocki a nudge and handed her a frying pan to dry.

  He’d been doing his best to understand the conversation they’d had. The only thing that was crystal clear was that she went to bed with him expecting to have sex and completely freaked out when just sex turned into making love. That he could understand. It threw him off his game too, just not as far off as it had thrown Rocki. And women were supposed to be more in touch with their emotions. Whoever said that had never met Rocki.

  Slater understood that she wanted him. And Lord knew, he wanted her. The problem was that neither of them knew what to do with all the emotions involved. It was like the blind leading the blind across the Long Island Expressway on a summer Friday afternoon. In other words, one of them better see the light or they were both likely to end up being road pizza. He finished washing, pulled the plug, and drained the sink.

  “Why don’t you go on into the living room and start a fire? I’ll make us hot buttered rums and bring them out.”

  He looked over the sparkling kitchen. “We just did the dishes.”

  “All this takes is hot water, some mix I found all prepared in the freezer, and rum. Don’t worry—I’ve got it covered.”

  He couldn’t help it, he raised an eyebrow. “I’ve seen you behind the bar, remember?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like tending bar so I may have played up my ineptitude a little bit.”

  “Ya think?”

  “Hey, it worked, didn’t it? I’m the last person they ask to watch the bar and that’s just fine by me. Go start a fire. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  No one could destroy a bar as quickly as Rocki. “Fine.” H
e dried his hands on the towel she’d thrown over her shoulder, leaned in, and kissed her. “If you make a mess, you’re cleaning it up.”

  “I told you, I got it covered.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  He headed out of the kitchen, but not fast enough to avoid the towel she snapped at his ass.

  Building a fire in the living room consisted of nothing more than opening the flue and lighting a match. He strolled around the room and picked up a photograph of Rocki and her family riding bikes. Rocki looked to be about Nicki’s age, maybe a little older—all long-limbed and skinny. Rocki’s blond hair was longer than she wore it now, and Jackson was probably fifteen. Their mom was a looker. Rocki had her legs and her smile. The stunning blue eyes and stubborn chin though, were from her father.

  “Those are my parents with me and Jackson. We used to take our bikes and ride into town to get ice cream just about every day. We rode bikes everywhere.”

  “I never had a bike.” He ran his finger over the picture. He would have given his left arm to have a bike like Jackson’s when he was a kid. “Sometimes the family I was with had bikes I could ride, but they weren’t mine. I never did get my own bicycle.”

  “Maybe that’s why Nicki wants one so badly.”

  He shrugged. “Probably.” He returned the photograph to the mantel.

  Rocki curled up on the couch. “I remember the day my dad taught me how to ride. I was so scared and excited. He held on to my seat and ran beside me for the longest time. I didn’t fall until I realized he’d let go of me. It scared me. I didn’t think I could do it on my own. But my dad was great. He picked me up, made sure I was okay, and told me I was riding on my own for a while before I fell. He said I already knew how to ride, I just didn’t know I knew. So we did the whole thing again. But that time, he warned me before he let go and started cheering me on. It wasn’t so bad the second time because I was prepared.”

  “Did you fall?”

  “Nope. I just circled around and rode back to him. He made a big deal out of it. You know how dads are.”

  “The ones on TV at least. By the time Pop took me and the guys in, we were all twelve or thirteen—way past the stage when Pop could teach us much of anything.”

  “Pete taught you everything you need to know about love, trust, and relationships.”

  “Hardly. Rocki, I look at you and I wish I knew what to do. I wish I knew how to get through to you.”

  “What are you talking about? I thought we cleared all that up. I told you how I felt.”

  “No, you accused me of flirting and said you were confused. I think that was right before you asked me to read your mind and tell you what it all meant.”

  “Okay, so I didn’t do such a great job of saying it, but we didn’t just have sex—at least I wasn’t having sex. I totally meant to have sex but then something happened and it turned into more.”

  He kissed her—the kind of kiss that made it clear that he wanted her. All of her—the mixed-up emotions, the love she had no problem showing but seemed unable to label, and the confused, sexy woman with the voice of an angel who could mesmerize a crowd. The woman who had so much love to give, she couldn’t stop herself from spreading it around while expecting nothing in return, the woman who loved so fiercely she believed in everyone she cared for more than she seemed to believe in herself, and the lonely girl who was afraid to get too close. “Making love with you was something else, and I can’t wait to do it again.”

  “Making love doesn’t scare you?”

  “Sweetheart, we were making love before we knew it. It was like the way you learned to ride a bike. Once we realized what we were doing we took a tumble, but now that we know what to expect—it’ll be even better.” He stood and she wrapped her legs around his waist and let out a groan.

  “Slater, I’m not trying to give you a big head or anything, but if it gets any better, I don’t think I’ll survive.”

  “I guess it’s a good thing I know CPR.” He kissed her as he made his way toward the bedroom. She tasted like rum and spices and Rocki. Halfway up the stairs, he pressed her back against the wall. She felt so good, it was all he could do not to just drop his pants and take her, but this was supposed to be about more than sex. This was supposed to be making love.

  He was fine with the concept, but he’d never done it intentionally, and he’d only made love with Rocki. He wasn’t sure how one got started—he’d only stumbled into it. This time, he didn’t want to stumble. He wanted to do it right. Shit, nothing like a little pressure.

  When they reached the bedroom Slater set Rocki on the bed and stared at her through all-new eyes. Sex was a no-brainer, but love? Did the fact that he’d made love to Rocki mean that he loved her? Could someone fall in love within two weeks of meeting a person?

  What he felt for her had been immediate—sure it had turned into more as he’d gotten to know her, but love?

  He knew lust, and that was certainly a star player in his thoughts, but there had always been something between them that was so much bigger than lust. Something he’d never felt before. It was as if her happiness and well-being meant more to him than his own. Which was probably why he spent the past two days torturing himself in the hospital. If it had been anyone else, he would have told her to go without him.

  The thought of leaving Rocki . . . of going to Bahrain was really not something he even wanted to contemplate. He’d had a hard enough time just leaving her in her brother’s hospital room without knowing she’d be okay without him. How would he feel being a half a world away? Damn, talk about bad timing all around.

  “Slater?”

  He had her sweater off and had already flipped the front clasp of her bra open on the way up the stairs. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you look?”

  “That’s not a fair question. But the way you look at me makes me feel beautiful.”

  “The first time I laid eyes on you, you were behind the bar, and I wanted to offer you my jacket so no one but me could see you in that dress. I think I was sunk then.”

  Her nose wrinkled and a wave of something soft and warm broke over him. Tenderness? Yeah, tenderness. He didn’t know he had it in him, but then Rocki seemed to bring out a lot of things in him he’d never known existed.

  “I didn’t see you until I went on stage. Then I had to sing what I will forevermore think of as my come-on set. I never noticed before, maybe because I never sang it to anyone in particular, but every one of those songs was embarrassingly suggestive.”

  A picture of Rocki on the stage singing to him made him smile. A blush had covered her face. “Yeah, I caught that.” He’d dreamed of her and the way her eyes had held him spellbound. That first night, he’d wanted to pick Rocki up and carry her off like some kind of caveman. He smiled at the memory of when she’d driven him to do just that.

  He slid down beside her and took his time tugging her leggings down, the same way he’d savored opening presents his first Christmas at Pop’s—when he realized he could keep everything he’d received. When he realized that no one was going to take his gifts away from him. When he realized he had a home.

  Slater knew at that moment, with every fiber of his being, that Rocki was a gift he wanted to keep and never wanted to lose. When he looked at her, he experienced that same rush of emotion he’d had when he looked at Pop and his brothers that Christmas and felt, for the first time in his life, as if he belonged. With Rocki, it was even stronger. With Rocki it was overwhelming. With Rocki it was love.

  • • •

  Rocki wondered if she was growing gills because when Slater brought his mouth to hers and kissed her, it was so overwhelming she couldn’t remember breathing.

  Even the way he looked at her before the kiss had taken her breath—the way she suspected being hit with a sonic boom might; the force was nothing she could see, but its impact was earth-shatter
ing.

  He’d said that now that they knew how making love felt, it wouldn’t come as such a shock. He’d been wrong. It was one thing to find yourself laid open before someone else, and a completely different thing to do it intentionally. The fear still existed. The trust was tenuous. The risk was great. But it was the need that drove her.

  She needed to feel connected to Slater in every way. That connection suddenly seemed necessary to life and that alone was enough to trigger her fight-or-flight response. Every muscle in her body seized and she found it impossible to breathe.

  He held her close and kissed her forehead. “Look at me, Rocki. I’ve got you. I’m not going to let you go. You’re mine.”

  When she met his gaze, she saw that same fear reflected in his eyes. Her big, tough superhero was just as afraid of breaking this fragile bond as she was.

  “Breathe, sweetheart.”

  It was like dancing with a partner—trying to learn steps that neither knew. But he wasn’t letting fear stop him; he spoke with such certainty, with such belief, that she had no choice but to follow, glad he was taking the lead.

  She drew in a breath, drew in the scent of Slater and rum and spices, drew in his warmth and tugged his shirt over his head while he kicked out of his pants.

  Slater pulled her over him, and she melted, finding that spot on his chest just made for her to rest her head. His heat surrounded her, the beating of his heart fast but steady beneath her ear centered her, and his hands traveled, soothing and exciting in equal measure.

  The bridge of the song she’d written created a soundtrack in her mind. “Him.” She’d written it for Slater. The notes slipped through her consciousness, hammering away at her fear, ebbing and flowing on the tide of feelings he’d stirred since the beginning.

  Drawing her deeper, he slid inside her, mind body and soul, filling her, riding the crest of desire, want and need.