Guilty as Sin (37 page)

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Authors: Jami Alden

Tags: #Fiction / Romance - Suspense, #Fiction / Romance - General, #General, #Romance, #Fiction / Romance - Erotica, #Suspense, #Erotica, #Fiction

BOOK: Guilty as Sin
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He staggered out of the trailer, gasping in lungsful of cold night air, trying to silence the voice screaming at him to end it all, right now. His hands curled into fists, aching to feel the crunch of delicate bone yielding to his knuckles.

Goddamn it, he’d been such a sap, he thought, his anger mixing with humiliation in a nauseating cocktail.

She’d played him, a supposedly innocent fourteen-year-old girl who’d tugged at his emotions with her sweetness and modesty, had totally fucking played him.

She was no better than Kate.

No, he wanted to roar in denial, thinking of her uncertain smile, her gratitude when she accepted the water he’d provided… it made his heart ache. It had only been five days, he reminded himself. That sweetness, that gratitude might become genuine eventually if he could just show her how much she needed him.

You kept the last one for over two weeks before she finally understood that her true place in this world was at your side
, he reminded himself.

She left you too
, another, bitter voice reminded him. It doesn’t matter if it took years. She still wanted away.

No. He shook his head and forced his feet away from the trailer, through the grove until he caught the trail that would take him down to the lake. Sweat still clung to his skin despite the cool evening air. He stripped off his hoodie and tied the sleeves around his waist.

Tricia was different. He just had to give her more time. Have more patience. Part of what happened tonight was his fault, he realized. He’d been so impatient to move things forward, he’d trusted her too quickly.

He should have known she wasn’t there yet. Hadn’t he learned, over and over, that the truth that was so clear to him was much harder for them to grasp?

Some—most—never did.

And that was their undoing.

Chapter 20
 

B
y the time they got to Tommy’s place, it was completely dark. His dad pulled the truck up the drive and watched, his face hidden in shadows as Tommy climbed out the passenger door and carefully eased Kate off the seat and into his arms. He didn’t need to see his father’s face to know it was drawn with concern, that his eyes were full of questions about exactly what was going on with his oldest child and this woman who had wreaked such havoc on his life all those years ago.

But all his dad said was “Have a good night, son. Kate, I hope you get better,” before he leaned across the cab and pulled the door shut. As he shifted Kate in his arms and started up the walkway, Tommy was hit with a burst of gratitude that he had the kind of family he could count on to come to his aid, no questions asked—well, in his father’s case at least, whenever he needed.

Whatever hardships he’d gone through, he’d always taken that security for granted.

“You can put me down,” Kate grumbled against his chest.

“You barely weigh anything. Besides, I kind of like it,” he said before he thought better of it. It was true though. Hell, “like” was too weak a word to describe how it felt to be carrying her into his house.

Her only reply was a soft “Far be it for me to deny you your he-man moment.”

Tommy pushed the door closed with his hip and started down the hall.

A grin tugged at his lips. If she was perky enough to give him shit, her condition couldn’t be that grave. Not that he wouldn’t be watching her like a hawk for the next twelve hours.

His step hitched as he passed the guest room, but instead of pushing the door open to the very comfortably furnished room and tucking her into the queen-size bed, he continued down the hall to his own room.

This time he didn’t even try to kid himself that he didn’t know exactly what this was about.

He sat Kate on the side of the bed and went to his dresser to get out a T-shirt. “You can sleep in this,” he said as he handed it to her.

“Thanks,” she said, her gaze a little fuzzy as she looked around the room.

“I don’t have anything here—”

“Once you’re up to it I’ll take you back to the townhouse to get a change of clothes. And there are plenty of brand-new toothbrushes in the bathroom. Just pick one.”

Her plump mouth pulled tight. “You seem very prepared for overnight guests,” she said, the bite in her voice diminished by her obvious exhaustion and pain.

Tommy sank to his knees in front of her and braced his hands on the mattress on either side of her hips. “I happen to like to buy in bulk.” He gave her a pat on the knee and urged her toward the bathroom. “Let me know if you need help with anything.”

He watched her shuffle away, some psycho part of him not wanting to have her away from his side for even the
time it took her to brush her teeth and take care of any other business.

Part of him was glad to have a second alone to process everything, to absorb the significance of what he was doing even as she obviously had no clue. No idea that in the three years that he’d lived in this house, she would be the first woman to ever sleep in his bed.

Christ, up until now, the only woman other than his mother and his sister who had been in this house had been a Grace Kelly-esque blonde named Krista Slater. And that was only because he’d owed his buddy Sean Flynn a huge fucking favor, and he and Krista had come as a package deal.

Not to mention, Sean probably would have cut off his scrotum and fed it to him if he’d so much as breathed in Krista’s direction.

This place was special, sacred. And the women he hooked up with casually had no place here.

He heard the water turn off and the door
click
open, and he turned in the direction of soft footsteps padding across the hardwood floor. His body kicked into gear as he took in the sight of Kate wearing nothing but an oversize olive green T-shirt with the word “ARMY” emblazoned across the front. The shirt settled over her like a tent, hanging almost to her knees as it completely swallowed all hint of the slim curves beneath.

But with her tousled red-gold hair spilling over her shoulders and the long, sleek length of her calves bare to his gaze, it struck him that women could spend thousands on supposedly sexy lingerie, but nothing was hotter than a hot woman wearing her man’s shirt.

And by her man, are you referring to yourself, big guy?
He shoved the thought aside and ordered his body back under control. She’d been attacked, for Christ’s sake, and
from the pallor of her skin and tight set to her mouth, still in a ton of pain. And you’re leering at her like a goddamn pervert imagining what it would be like to hook the hem of that shirt and inch it up her legs, revealing inch after inch of pale, perfect skin…

He bit back a groan and hurried across the room to help her.

“Thanks,” she said as he caught her when she swayed a little. “I thought it was easing off, but the headache came back with a vengeance while I was brushing my teeth.”

The mention of her pain was like a cold shower, but he couldn’t stop himself from moving in with a quick kiss on her cheek as he settled her against the pillows and dimmed the bedside lamp.

By the time he lifted his head, her eyelids were already drooping, her brow still furrowed against the pain.

“I’ll be back in a couple hours to check on you. Otherwise, call me if you need anything.”

She nodded almost imperceptibly against the pillow. “Thanks for taking care of me, Tommy,” she said in a sleepy voice.

I’ll always take care of you.
But he couldn’t get the words past the lump in his throat. He knew they weren’t true. He might have shown up in the nick of time today, but that didn’t make up for all the times he hadn’t taken care of her.

As he left the room and retreated to his office, he tried to console himself with the reminder that back then, he’d been a naive kid himself. A nineteen-year-old from a ranching family who mowed lawns to pay for school wasn’t any match for a shrewd U.S. senator with a massive grudge.

Yet as he detoured to the kitchen to grab a beer, that didn’t stop the guilt gnawing away at him at the thought of all those years, all the pain she’d suffered, and he hadn’t been there for her.

Hell, after he’d finished convincing himself he hated her, he hadn’t let himself think of her at all.

The beer turned sour in his mouth and he pushed it aside. No good could come from kicking himself about what should or shouldn’t have happened with Kate. But as he settled in front of his computer to write the summary he’d promised CJ, there was no getting around the fact that he still had feelings for her.

Big. Deep. And nothing to do with hate. He’d foolishly thought that whatever infatuation he’d felt for her was buried miles deep and covered up with scar tissue thicker than an elephant’s hide.

But from the moment she walked into Jackson’s office, it had become clear that the scar covering up whatever he felt for Kate was nothing more than paper thin, and every moment spent with her was another layer stripped away.

And underneath? Well, it was a hell of a lot more complicated than youthful infatuation.

Still, even succumbing to temptation and having mind-bending sex with her wasn’t what delivered the death blow to the last of his defenses.

It wasn’t even the sight of her, injured and unconscious, forcing him to confront the possibility of losing her—this time for good.

That moment came at about two o’clock in the morning when he checked on Kate for the second time. He was struck again at how right she looked, her hair spread across
his
pillow, her body covered by
his
sheets and blankets.

Her pale, sculpted features were relaxed now, the furrow between her eyebrows having disappeared. He hoped that meant the pain had eased. He leaned in close and whispered her name. She turned away from his voice, buried her head deeper in the pillow.

He couldn’t resist the urge to run his fingers down her smooth cheek. “Come on, sleeping beauty, wake up and tell me your name.”

Her hand came up to swat his away and he saw her eyes flutter. Like last time, she was unfocused at first, unsure for a moment where she was and how she got there. Then her gaze locked on him and a smile spread across her face that was so bright it was like looking into the sun.

“Tommy,” she said, her voice saturated with a kind of pure happiness that hit him square in the gut and sent a warm glow rippling through every cell. “You’re still here.”

And Jesus, just like that, he was a goner. The last of the scab ripped off, and he was flying over the cliff. Chest cracked wide, diving into the abyss, and he didn’t care if he ever came back.

It was like the first time he’d kissed her, but so much better—and worse.

Kate just smiled up at him, unaware of the tornado wrapped in a hurricane she’d unleashed inside him. “I’m so glad you’re still here.”

A still-functioning logical part of his brain knew she was probably still half asleep, not sure of what she said or what she meant. “Of course I’m still here,” he managed to choke out. He eased down on the mattress next to her and pulled her against him, careful not to jostle her too much. “Of course I’m still here,” he repeated, and buried his face against the crown of her head. “No matter what happens, I’ll always be here with you.”

The next time Kate woke up the sky was just turning light outside of the windows. She quickly became aware of
three things. One, her head still hurt, but not to the degree that it had when she’d left the emergency room last night. Two, the bed she was in was unfamiliar, not one she ever remembered sleeping in before.

Three, she was not alone in the bed, if the large, warm,
hard
presence curled up against her back was anything to go by. Her hand drifted down to the thick, muscled arm that wrapped around her waist, holding her tightly against him as though he was worried someone was going to try to snatch her away.

Tommy.
Her eyes snapped open as memories from the day before came screaming through her brain all at once. The attack, the hospital, the pain.

And through it all, the one constant was Tommy, never leaving her side, his eyes dark with concern, his deep voice whispering that he would always be there for her no matter what happened.

No, she had to have made that last part up, she told herself. Tommy was a stand-up guy who would help out anyone who needed it—even a woman who had at one point nearly ruined his life—but he’d made it clear that his feelings for her didn’t go past common courtesy and whatever chemistry lingered from their disastrous teenage romance.

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