Down on Her Knees (13 page)

“I’d rather have a beer, I think,” she admitted with a wan smile. Her cheeks were still chalk white, and something to take the edge off didn’t seem like a bad idea.

“Sure, I’ll get it. Go sit.”

She seemed like she wanted to argue, but did as he asked, padding across the oak floor to the large sectional couch that took up the center of the living room.

He headed into the kitchen and pawed around until he found a couple beers, a bottle opener, and one glass. When he returned to the living room, he found Courtney huddled into the couch cushions with a tattered pink blanket over her.

“You cold?” He eyed her hard, wondering if he’d missed signs of shock, and if she wasn’t as fine as she claimed to be, but she shook her head and faced him with a clear gaze.

“No. This is the blanket I had when I was a kid. Makes me feel…comfy.”

And safe,
he added mentally.

He sat down next to her, opened her beer, and poured it into the glass.

She murmured her thanks and accepted the drink before twisting to face him head-on. “It doesn’t seem fair, does it? That someone thinks they have the right to come into your home and take things that don’t belong to them?”

“It’s not fair,” he agreed and then popped the cap off his own beer and took a swig. He must have looked as grim and angry as he felt, because she laid a hand on his arm.

“I’m sorry to keep harping on it. This was nothing in the scheme of things. No one got hurt, no one…anyway, I know you’ve seen and dealt with so much worse…”

He could hear the pity in her voice as she struggled with the words to say. Which meant she knew about Monica. He’d figured it would come up eventually and either Cat would tell her or Galen would mention it. He racked his brain for some pithy brush-off, but shocked himself.

“It was the worst day of my life.”

She squeezed his biceps reassuringly, and the words started to flow, out of control.

“I told her we should go out. She had a big test to study for and I didn’t want her to spend the whole afternoon cooking, but she wouldn’t have it. She was set on making me crab legs.” He drained half the beer bottle and set it down. “I don’t even like fucking crab legs.”

He scrubbed a hand over his eyes and tried to picture her face. She’d been the exact opposite of Courtney. Black hair, dark eyes, leaner, not so curvy. The details were fuzzy now. He knew there’d been a dimple. Just one, but he couldn’t remember on which side anymore. And freckles, but it was a strain to recall the pattern of them. He didn’t think of her every day anymore, which was part blessing and part curse, because on days he remembered, the guilt over days he’d forgotten was almost crippling.

“It changed my life,” he admitted. “From my career path to the way I thought about the world. Looking back, I can’t say that those changes were for the better. I am what I am now, but you don’t have to let this one event change you.” She started to protest and he held up a hand. “I know it’s not the same thing, but it was a violation. You can either choose to believe that this was one bad person at one bad time, give yourself a day or two to be pissed off, sad, and scared, and move on, or you can let it color your view of the world entirely, and fester.”

She toyed with the ragged edges of her blanket as she contemplated his words. “Like I did with Wes,” she murmured. Not angrily, which was good. “That’s exactly what I did. I let him shake my confidence and keep me from trying to find another, healthier relationship. It’s been like he’s still controlling me and we’re not even together anymore.”

She settled more deeply into the cushion, suddenly looking exhausted. He patted her legs, urging her to put them on his lap. “That’s enough talk for now. You’ve had a hell of an evening. Why don’t you rest for a few minutes? I’ll hang here and finish my beer, watch some TV until you want to go to bed.”

She hesitated and then nodded, setting her beer on the coffee table. “I appreciate it. I’m just not ready to be alone yet.” He covered her calf with his hand and rubbed in slow, soothing circles. Her eyes drifted closed and a few minutes later, she was snoring softly.

Instead of watching TV, he watched her sleep for a while, and thought of ways he could help her feel more secure. Maybe he’d suggest she get a dog. Odds were almost zero that the burglar would come back and she lived in a relatively low-crime area, but a dog would give her a sense of security as well as provide some much-needed comfort for those inevitable nights that she felt alone and scared.

Or you could help her with that.

No, he couldn’t. They had two scenes left together, and tonight had served as a terrible reminder of exactly why he’d avoided getting close to another woman since Monica. He closed his eyes and relived the moments on the phone with Courtney, when she’d told him someone had broken in. He could almost picture her there, with the knife they’d left at the Brentons’, tiptoeing toward the door. Jesus Christ, what if someone had still been in the house? What if that person had used that knife against her?

He sucked down the rest of the beer to wash the bitter taste of fear from his mouth before looking down at her again. Her face was so peaceful and trusting in sleep, his heart gave a squeeze.

Yeah, two more scenes, then it was time to walk away. Too bad it felt like he’d be leaving a little piece of himself behind.

Chapter Eleven

She was so warm, so cozy, she didn’t want to move. But, damn, her back was getting stiff. She tried to roll to her belly, but the wall stopped her.

When the wall then inhaled and let out a slow breath, she froze.

Not a wall.

Rafe.

His arm tightened around her, and he grunted as her bottom lined up more fully with his hips.

She stared into the darkness, at a loss. Last she remembered, she’d drifted off on the couch with her feet on him. At some point, he must have fallen asleep as well, and somehow they’d wound up tangled together on the big sectional. Not that she was complaining. He felt amazing. Odd how she’d just gotten robbed, but with Rafe’s body spooned around hers, she’d never felt so safe.

“You awake?” he murmured, his voice husky with sleep.

She wanted to lie. To lie there in the comfort of his sure embrace for a little longer before he pulled away. Instead, she nodded. “Yeah.” She swallowed hard and waited, but he didn’t move.

“You doing okay?”

She was doing fine, except that slow, sexy burn in her belly was starting to spread, the same as it did whenever he touched her. “Mm-hmm.”

“Good. You scared the shit out of me, you know.”

The admission shouldn’t have made her happy, but it so did. Pulse banging, she gave an experimental wriggle that brought their bottom halves in, snug. The long, thick evidence of his arousal branded her ass through the thin cotton of her scrubs and sent a thrill through her.

“Courtney,” he groaned, a warning in his voice.

“Rafe?” she responded boldly, not bothering to hide the challenge there. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once. She was taking a huge chance here. This wasn’t part of the deal, but there was nothing wrong with a little renegotiation.

After last night, it had become abundantly clear to her that when the chips were down, there was one person she’d wanted to call. Whether he was willing to admit it or not, this thing between them had already gone far deeper than just sex. It was time for her to start fighting for what she wanted.

He didn’t seem to need much coaxing at the moment, though. His hand trailed up from her hip, dragging her shirt with it. At some point in the night, she must have stripped off her bra and tossed it because when his warm palm covered her breast, it was flesh on flesh, and she gasped. Goose bumps broke out on her arms as his fingertips teased her while his teeth nipped her earlobe.

“That’s so nice,” she whispered, loving the delicious pull of need that accompanied his touch. The pace was slow, leisurely, like a long summer stroll in the sunshine. She rocked back against him and sighed. By the time he rolled her onto her back and slid her pants and underwear off, she was a mass of achy need. He stood, stripping off his own clothes, before lowering himself on top of her, wedging his muscular thigh between hers.

“Your skin is so soft,” he murmured as he slipped his hand over her stomach and lower. “And here. So wet. So welcoming.” He dipped between her folds to rub her center in slow, steady circles.

“So hot,” he groaned in a pained voice. “You make me crazy,” he murmured, his voice so full of longing, it was all the encouragement she needed.

She strained forward, biting her lip as the tension wound tighter and tighter.

His low whispers spurred her on, a climax glimmering on the horizon. She fluttered her hips helplessly, her motions almost frantic. So close… He flexed a finger deep inside her, sending her hurling off the precipice.

She came hard, shudders racking her body. Dimly, even as her muscles contracted and flexed, she realized he was leaving her, moving that delicious pressure. She wanted to cry out, to tell him she wasn’t done yet, but an instant later, words were impossible as he covered her body with his and slid his cock deep in one long thrust.

Aftershocks still tore through her and her inner walls clenched over him. The sensation was so sublime she could barely keep a thought in her head.

“That’s what I wanted to feel,” he said, his breathing so labored, it came out on a gasp. “Let me feel it again, love.”

His hand snaked between them, massaging the sensitive bundle of nerves again even as he worked his cock deeper, nudging against that spot deep inside her that made her shudder.

He played her like an instrument, and this time, they came together. It was slow and sweet, his name a murmured, breathy chant on her lips. She barely managed to bite back the one that kept reverberating in her head with every beat of her heart.

Don’t go.

Chapter Twelve

Rafe felt the weight on his arm before he opened his eyes, but the weight on his chest was far heavier. Waking up to the tickle of long, soft hair on his cheek and the scent of shampoo in his nose triggered memories from a past life. Memories that fucking hurt. Courtney mumbled in her sleep and tucked her bottom more firmly against his hips. He didn’t resist the sudden urge to caress her cheek.

He hadn’t meant to stay. At least, not unless she took the bed and he took the couch. Talk about confusing things. But for some reason, after last night, he couldn’t bring himself to leave when he should have. Once she calmed some, before they’d slept together, he should have promised to be on call if she needed him, contacted Cat to come by, and then left. But even after she’d snuggled in and her breathing had gotten low and slow, he kept promising himself he would, after one more minute.

Now here he was, breaking his own rules by waking up next to the first woman he’d actually slept with in over five years. He still had nothing to offer her. No promises. No future. No happily ever after.

He tugged his arm gently out from under Courtney’s head and slipped off the couch as carefully as possible. He shouldn’t have worried, because she didn’t budge. Fist curled up against her chin, half-smile on her face, she looked like she was dreaming of puppies. That was good. She felt safe, even if it was only in sleep for now.

He found a pen and paper in the kitchen and jotted a quick note.

Had to go. If you need anything, give me a call.

—R

A hot minute later, he was out the door. He didn’t have to be at work for another two hours, but he could get a jump-start on Courtney’s case if he went in early. He’d like nothing better than to be able to call and tell her that they’d found the burglar.

And because you’re a chickenshit.

Stupid fucking voice didn’t know when to quit.

He swung by his house to change clothes and brush his teeth before heading over to the station. By the time he got there, his head was pounding. Tension headache from too much thinking, probably. He’d been trying his damnedest to focus on the day ahead, of possible calls he could make to various CI’s and try to get some tips on who might be behind the robbery, but his mind kept circling back to Courtney. The look on her face last night when they’d made…sex.

“Fuckin’ A,” he growled, as he strode to his desk.

“Good morning to you too, asshole.” Cherry Travers, one of the detectives in his department who worked the night shift, gave him a finger wiggle from her desk, which was situated next to his. “Bad night?

“Not the best I’ve had.” Although that was only half-true. Part of it had been pretty fantastic. He bit back another curse.

“Why are you here so early?” The pretty brunette took a long pull from her cup of bad station coffee and he eyed it longingly.

“I have a couple things I want to look into. Friend of mine was robbed last night. I was off duty so it’s not my case, but I thought I’d do some legwork to help out. You make a whole pot or…” He nodded toward her cup, interested in the answer as much as he was interested in cutting the convo short.

“Yup. But so you know, I think it’s even worse than usual. When was the last time someone washed that pot?”

He shrugged and crossed the utilitarian room to the break room. “You’re supposed to wash those?”

She laughed and dropped her head back down to finish the paperwork she’d been working on.

The rest of his day flew by in such a haze, between calls that got him nowhere and his regular work, that he didn’t realize he hadn’t even stopped for lunch. He checked his phone again to see if Courtney had called, but she hadn’t. There was a short group text from Cat letting him, Galen, Lacey, and Courtney know that she and Shane were grilling if anyone wanted to stop by for a burger on their way home. Courtney had already responded with a yes.

He mulled it over, wondering if it wouldn’t be better for them to get some distance after last night, but then his stomach growled. Might as well kill two birds with one stone. He wanted to see her face, make sure she was okay, check to see if she’d called to have the window replaced and all that, plus he was starving.

“Davenport.” His lieu stood over his desk casting a shadow that was as wide as it was long. Mrs. Stanley was going to have to start watching her husband’s calorie intake if she wanted him to live past sixty. “Have Williams stick those reports on my desk before he leaves tonight.”

“Will do,” Rafe said with a nod, snapping instantly back into work mode and then glancing at his watch. Five thirty. Just enough time to swing by and pick up some beer and make it to Shane and Cat’s for dinner. “I’m leaving now, but I have a call scheduled with him at eight o’clock tonight when he gets back from those witness interviews.”

There had been a brutal assault on an elderly woman at a convenience store the morning before, and his partner was finishing up with the last few witnesses while he followed up with some telephone leads that had come in. So far, they didn’t have much, but he was confident that Williams would manage to get some good info from a witness who claimed she was looking out her window when the attacker was fleeing the scene.

Until then, he’d eat a juicy burger with some friends. The only way to keep from burning out at this job was to make sure to temper the bad with the really good, and his life was pretty good. He had a satisfying job, and a few buddies he could count on. He didn’t need or want the complication of a woman full time.

So when it came time to let Courtney go…wait, did they have two more scenes or one? He didn’t know whether last night counted or not. There was no precedent to look to for the answer. Sex had been a planned activity for so long, there had never been any question. That spontaneous coupling, born from her need for comfort and his need to provide it, and reassure himself that she was all right? That she was there and unhurt and alive? It cheapened it to call it a scene.

He whipped off a quick text back to the group, got his shit together, and headed out into the lingering sunshine. Perfect evening for grilling. He slid behind the wheel of his car, stopped off for a six-pack, and then made the short trip to his friends’ house.

He pulled up behind Courtney’s car and put his own in park, wondering if she was going to be more spooked about the robbery or about what had happened between them afterward. He sat for another long minute, wondering if maybe he should reconsider going in, when a sharp rap on the window snagged his attention. He turned to see Shane standing outside the car.

“Cat said your car was making a knocking sound and you wanted me to take a look?”

He opened the driver’s-side door and stepped onto the pavement as Shane peppered him with questions about manifolds and carburetors, but he was only half listening. The other half was busy watching Courtney through the kitchen window as she talked to Cat. Her face was animated and she was smiling. That was good. Maybe she wasn’t freaked out after all. Maybe she’d taken him at his word when he told her she was safe and the odds of her getting robbed again were nil. And maybe she also realized that the deeper connection between them the night before had been nothing more than two people in an emotionally charged situation taking comfort in each other.

Yep, maybe it was better not to go looking for trouble where there was none.

…

“You must have been terrified,” Lacey said, leaning over the cloth-covered picnic table to squeeze Courtney’s hand.

“Of course she was,” Cat snorted. “But my girl kept a level head, grabbed herself a knife, and got her ass out of there. You done good, kid. I’m so glad you’re okay.”

Courtney smiled and shrugged. “It helped that Rafe was on the phone. He kept me calm. Or as calm as I could possibly be in that circumstance. If the zombie apocalypse comes—”

“Ha! You mean when the zombie apocalypse comes,” Cat corrected, and she stood to refill everyone’s iced tea glasses.

“Okay, when it does, I’ll take Rafe in my survivor camp any day.” She sent him a shy smile, still not sure how to act around him. He’d been especially quiet since he’d arrived, and she wondered if he was having second thoughts about last night or was just preoccupied with work stuff as he claimed.

“I appreciate that,” he said, tipping his head in her direction, but not meeting her gaze. “And best believe I’ll take the ER nurse on my team in a heartbeat. Now if we can just find someone who can hunt once the food supply is depleted, we’ll be set.”

“I don’t want to toot my own horn, but everyone knows I can fish my ass off,” Galen said from his designated spot at the grill. “I’m thinking if someone needs to get voted off, we need to consider losing the deadweight. Shane here can’t even cook a decent steak.”

“I was dealing with the meat just fine until you got here and took over. You and your sister are both too bossy for your own good. Not conducive to communal lifestyles,” Shane said, ignoring his fiancée’s indignant gasp. “And plus, you and Lacey have the baby coming in a couple weeks. You’re going to be so focused on her, you won’t be able to think rationally. I’ve seen it a hundred times. It’s the curse of all new parents.”

The playful ribbing continued around them and Lacey made her case for inclusion in the war against zombies as Cat rose and motioned for Courtney to follow. “Want to help me with the salad?”

Courtney grabbed the tall, sweating glass of tea and trailed behind her friend into the kitchen.

“What’s the deal?” Cat asked softly, with a glance at the door to make sure no one had followed.

“What do you mean?” God, she was the worst liar. Her cheeks were on fire and she pressed the chilled glass to one. “Hot out there, huh?”

“Don’t give me that shit,” Cat said, and began rustling through the refrigerator. “Something is brewing here, and I want to know what it is.”

“I’m not sure,” Courtney said cautiously. “We’ve had two of our scenes so far…well, maybe three?”

“You mean you don’t know?” Cat threw an astonished look over her shoulder before rising, closing the refrigerator door with a hitch of her hip. “If that’s the case, then he’s definitely doing something wrong.”

“No, it’s not that. We, uh, slept together on three separate occasions but one of them was last night. After the break-in. It wasn’t what I’d call a scene, but…”

“Seriously?” Cat asked, her face a mask of awe as the nimble hands opening a package of carrots for the salad slowed to a halt.

“Seriously. And it wasn’t in the heat of the moment or anything. We just kind of woke up in the middle of the night and turned to each other.” A warmth bloomed in her chest and she shook her head, bemused. “I’m sort of…nuts about him.”

How crazy to hear those words coming out of her own mouth. A month ago, she would have bet a million dollars it would be years before she felt ready to dive into another relationship. But now, with Rafe? She was so filled with hope. Like anything was possible.

Her throat went tight and she took another sip of iced tea. Now she had to find out if he felt the same way. It sure seemed like he did. And if he wasn’t ready to admit it yet, she had two more chances to convince him that they could be perfect together if only he was willing to take the chance.

Cat peppered her with questions as they chopped vegetables, and she filled her friend in on their night at the carnival as well.

“The Rafe I know would’ve begged off instantly,” she said. “He must really like your company, because he has hard and fast rules about dating outside of the scene life.”

The words gave Courtney one more buoy of hope to cling to. By the time she finished telling Cat about Gil, and the Ferris wheel, she was more sure than ever that she and Rafe had a real shot of making things work. Chemistry aside, they genuinely liked each other’s company and, with every passing minute, “like” was skidding perilously closer to “love.”

For her, at least.

“Well, that sounds pretty frigging awesome. And I’d like to take the credit for escalating things between you guys again, but I actually did get called into work that night. High-profile client had a last-minute wedding dress emergency. In any case, I’ll tell you this, you’ve never looked better,” Cat said with an approving smile as she resumed her chopping while Courtney washed off some radishes at the wide porcelain sink. “You seem so confident and comfortable in your skin.”

“Thanks.” She wasn’t sure she looked any different, but she sure felt different. Every new experience with Rafe lifted her up. That she could have the kind of sex that her body clearly craved with a man who also made her heart happy was something she had never even dreamed of.

“So are you going to tell him how you feel?” Cat picked up the cutting board and tipped its contents into a large wooden bowl. “Toss those in here whenever you’re ready.”

Courtney took the board and began to slice the radishes into neat discs. “I don’t know,” she said, tempering her excitement some. “I mean, I don’t want to jump the gun.”

“What do you think was the turning point?” Cat’s gaze was filled with curiosity as she nibbled on a piece of celery. “Because I swear, you two were so stubborn. I thought I’d never see the day…”

She thought about that question for a long time before answering. “A lot of things. The way he was with me, so sexy and creative in bed, and then so fun and easy to be around the rest of the time.”

She set the knife down and climbed onto one of the tall island stools, letting her legs swing while she talked. She glanced around to make sure everyone else was still outside chatting before she continued. “Before all this, I let things with Wes color my view of the world. He was controlling to the point of abuse and I never saw it coming.”

Cat made to say something, but she held up a hand to stop her.

“I don’t want you to feel bad for me. I know now that it wasn’t my fault, and I’m happy to say that I’ve moved on. But it took two years to get here and I know Rafe, and even the scenes in a way, are responsible for that. I couldn’t get my head around the idea that I could do those things with a person…let them say those things, and make demands on me sexually like that without turning into a doormat again. Doing them with someone who was no threat to me emotionally but who I trusted as a man was so freeing.”