Her Forbidden Hero (13 page)

Alyssa frowned, wondering what had disturbed him. Maybe she’d let go of his hand in her sleep?

She forced herself into more of a sitting position to ensure it didn’t happen again. In the stillness, small sounds stood out. The white noise of the central air, the hum of the refrigerator, from outside, the chirping of cicadas over and over.

Marco’s hand clenched, squeezing hers. He released an anguished cry.
“No.”

Alyssa frowned, her certainty that she could help harder to hold on to with every outburst. No way was she giving up, though. Her presence
had
worked wonderfully last night. Slowly, gently, she lifted her free hand and stroked his hair. Once, twice. He shuddered and leaned into her touch. Moments later, he quieted again. He remained calm, so she continued running her hands over his surprisingly soft hair until her arm grew too tired to hold up.

For the rest of the night, every time Alyssa’s eyes threatened to close, Marco stirred. Her stomach sank. Only the fact that she seemed capable of easing him each time the nightmares restarted kept her hopes from being dashed altogether.

When the first light of morning chased the darkness from the room, she withdrew her hand and hobbled her achy, tired body back to bed. She reset the alarm on her phone for nine thirty. She needed to buy some new clothes for work that morning, so no lazing around all day for her.

The alarm bleated its annoying ringtone five seconds later.

At least, that’s what it felt like. Alyssa groaned as she turned it off and forced herself into a sitting position. She’d gotten a total of four hours of sleep, but her body seemed completely unconvinced of that fact. The shower helped some, but all morning she felt like she was slogging through molasses.

Some of that sluggishness was the loss of sleep, and some of it was having to admit there was no easy fix for whatever troubled Marco. So be it. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t keep trying.

When she got to work at two thirty, she actually felt groggier for the hour catnap she’d snuck in. At least she’d found some new work clothes and didn’t have to wear the same three pieces over and over again. This outfit in particular helped perk her up a little—the black skirt was short and flowy. Very cute. And the tight tank top had a low-scooped back that left her ponytail tickling her spine. And, of course, it all looked awesome with her Chucks. She felt fresh and summery and ready to tackle another busy shift—well, as ready as she could be on a half night’s sleep.

Now all she needed was some food.

She dropped off her purse and made a beeline for the break room.

“Hey guys,” she said as she entered, finding the usual cast of characters, minus Tommy.

Eric looked over his shoulder and his eyes went wide. His gaze was so direct she thought she’d spilled on her new shirt, so she glanced down at herself to be sure. Nope. She looked back up to find Marco with an odd gaze, too, except his was angry where Eric’s was…who even knew. She dropped into a chair.

“How are ya?” Van finally asked.

She smiled up at him. “Good. Great now that you’re feeding me.” She winked at him as she reached for a plate. “Aw, man. You made ribs.”

“What’s wrong with that?” he asked.

“Your ribs are so good.”

He grinned. “I’m still waiting for the problem.”

“I just bought this shirt. It’s the rule of ribs. New white shirts have no chance against them.”

“You could go put on something else,” Marco said under his breath.

Alyssa cut her gaze to him and arched an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing.” He lifted his eyes to look at her.

Oh, his eyes. They were so light! The dark circles were nearly gone.

He frowned. “Why are you smiling?”

She shrugged and filled her plate with a few less-threatening dishes.

“Hey.” Speaking softly, he leaned in to her. “Look at me.”

Something about his tone made her obey. His face was so close she nearly gasped. Her senses were flooded with everything Marco—his scent, his bright blue eyes, the heat of his shoulder against hers. “What’s the matter?”

“That’s what I was going to ask,” he said, his gaze searching hers.

“Nothing. Why?”

“You look…I don’t know…tired or something.”

“I’m fine.” Alyssa dug into her lunch. “So.” She glanced at Van and Eric. “Where’s Tommy today?”

“He’s around,” Eric said. “Oh, I meant to ask, do you want a ride to the lake tomorrow?”

“Oh, um.” She turned to Marco, who was back to frowning. “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about that. Maybe?”

Eric glanced from Alyssa to Marco and back. “Well, just text me in the morning if you do. Can I have your number?”

“Sure.” As she started reciting it, Marco pushed up from the table, his chair screeching on the tile. And then he was gone.

Heat suffused Alyssa’s cheeks for reasons she couldn’t articulate. “I was thinking about bringing my guitar tomorrow. Would that be dumb?”

“You play?” Van asked.

“Some. I’m not the greatest, but I’m okay.”

“You should definitely bring it,” Eric said, rising. “Hey, you should do open mic night some time.”

“Oh, no. Like I said, I’m not great. I just play for fun.”

Van rose and started collecting plates. “That’s the best reason.”

Alyssa swallowed her last bite and stood. “Need help with the green room today, Eric?”

He paused in the doorway, his gaze flashing to her legs and away again. “Uh, no. Not today. Band got here early, so…”

“Oh, okay.”

“Later,” he murmured as he left.

Alyssa headed out to the floor excited for tomorrow’s trip. She could really use something fun and normal to distract herself from all of Marco’s confusing intensity.

…

Marco arrived home after midnight. Late enough, he hoped, not to have to deal with that goddamn skirt anymore. As if watching her parade around in the damned thing wasn’t bad enough, Eric had been drooling all over himself the whole night, and two assholes camped out at his bar had made half a dozen comments about Alyssa as she came and went with drinks. No way the men hadn’t been all over her out on the floor. But he couldn’t let himself go check. If he did, he knew some of the people who had come in on their own two feet wouldn’t be going out that way.

As good as she’d looked today—and she had looked
so
damn good—his gut told him there was also something wrong. Her face had been pale and her eyes bloodshot, like she hadn’t been sleeping. He knew what that shit was like. But what could be troubling her so much it was keeping her awake?

He paused outside the bedroom door and listened. Nothing. Wincing, he turned the handle and eased the door open. He could just make out her form curled around a pillow on the big bed. Man, what he wouldn’t give to wrap himself around her, nose buried in her soft hair, and sleep until the sun forced them into consciousness…

Carefully, he closed the door and slipped into the hall bathroom to change.

He folded his clothes and stacked them on the back of the toilet, then stepped into a pair of navy sleep pants he’d been wearing since Alyssa arrived. Brushing his teeth, he studiously avoided meeting his own gaze in the mirror. Thoughts like the one he’d just had about Alyssa did nobody any damn good. Instead, his eyes settled on the remains of the bullet wound he’d gotten during his first tour in Afghanistan. They’d been on a recon mission and happened upon a lone insurgent hiding in the bush on the side of a cliff. The guy got off three shots before the team took him out, and one of those shots had done a hi-how-are-ya through Marco’s shoulder. It missed all the important stuff but hurt like hell.

Even after it happened, he’d felt like he was where he was supposed to be, doing what he was supposed to do.

Now what was he doing? Tending bar. Renting a house. A house he hadn’t bothered to furnish. Avoiding his parents. Avoiding everyone, really.

What was his damn purpose now?

Grumbling under his breath, Marco smacked the bathroom light switch and crossed the house to the futon. He sat heavily, a wide yawn giving his jaw a run for its money.

Maybe he’d win the sleep lottery again tonight and wake up in a better mood. He sure hoped so. Somehow, he’d have to act civilly while Alyssa wore that purple bikini in front of Eric, who very clearly had a thing for her. Not that Marco blamed him. But he didn’t need to see that shit, especially with that suit leaving so little to the imagination.

Marco punched his pillow into place and leaned back, yanking the blanket up to his waist. Thunder rumbled in the distance. The pale yellow of heat lightning flashed against the wall above him. Marco stared, eyes unwilling to close as the storm approached. Some minutes later it arrived, sending down a gentle shower of rain against the roof above him. Finally, his eyelids drooped, the rain a lulling distraction that blocked out the noise between his ears.

The next time Marco opened his eyes, the room was bright, filled with a warm light that told him the day was already sunny. He was so unused to sleeping in—well, to sleeping much at all—that he was disoriented.

The smell of coffee reached his nose and had him looking around. He stood up and became immediately aware of his morning erection. Maybe it was basic male biology, or maybe it was the series of dreams that added that skirt to his little fantasy involving Alyssa bent over Betty. Either way, he wasn’t fit to go in search of the source of that smell looking like he did.

Marco scrubbed a hand over his face and walked to the front window. His neighborhood was alive with activity. What time was it anyway?

He looked down at his body. Nope, still not cooperating with his need for caffeine. He closed his eyes and thought up anything he could that might deflate his situation.
Sleeping in sand. Walking through an ice-cold river. Getting shot. Seeing a buddy get shot.

Yeah. That did it.

Marco shuffled to the kitchen. His jaw dropped. It was quarter after nine. He’d gotten…over eight hours of sleep. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what had solved his insomnia and sleep-stealing nightmares, but no way was he complaining. He almost felt like a new man, not that he knew who that would be. He grabbed a mug and filled it with steaming hot coffee.

Behind him, a door opened. “I thought I heard you. Finally up, huh?”

Marco turned, cup in hand. “Yeah, you should’ve woken me.”

She smiled. “Why would I do that?”

He shrugged, taking a long sip. “Coffee’s good, thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Hey, Eric texted me about ten minutes ago to ask what we wanted to do about getting up there. I didn’t want to presume that, you know, you and I would—”

“Of course we’ll ride up together. Tell him you have a ride.”
And to stay the fuck away
. He grinned into his next sip. Man, he felt damn good. He was actually looking forward to a couple of hours of just chilling up at the lake.

“Okay. Get your butt moving then. Everybody’s meeting around ten, which makes us officially late.”

“Don’t rush a man through his morning coffee.”

“No, come on. Hup, two, three, four.”

Marco groaned, barely able to suppress a smile. He shoved off the counter. “What are you, my drill sergeant?”

Alyssa grinned. “If I need to be. Now, get a move on. I have a lake waiting for me.”

He bumped her shoulder as he passed by and noticed the straps of her purple bikini under the neck of her T-shirt. “When did you get so bossy?” He meant it as a joke, but in truth, she really had come out of her shell these past few years. And damn if confidence didn’t look beautiful on her.

She laughed, that full, open sound he loved.

He shook his head as he stepped into the bathroom. He shaved in case he didn’t have time later, but given where they were headed, it didn’t make sense to shower. Marco threw on a pair of swim trunks and a T-shirt and dug an old pair of sneakers from the bottom of his closet. As he stuffed his feet into them, he caught a glimpse of teal blue. In the midst of all his belongings hung a very pretty one-shouldered dress. It was the only thing Alyssa had hung in his closet. He fingered the material, imagining her in it. All grown up, indeed.

He found Alyssa sitting on the futon, a big tote bag and her guitar sitting at her feet.

“All ready?” she asked.

He tossed his keys into the air. “Yes. What are we waiting for?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re in rare form today.”

“That’s the damn truth. Amazing what a couple nights’ sleep will do for you.”

She smiled and busied herself with picking up her things.

Marco grabbed the guitar case. “I’ll get this.”

“Thanks,” she said.

Outside, fingers tickled the back of his hand. He flinched away. “What in the—”

Alyssa erupted in laughter. “Keys, please?” She held out her palm and plastered a ridiculously sweet look on her face.

He unlocked the trunk and settled the guitar inside. “Has the sun already made you delirious? Maybe we shouldn’t go.”

“Oh, come on, Marco. Let me drive.”

“Betty has but one master.”

She huffed and walked around to the passenger side. “That sounds kinky.”

Marco stared at her across the roof of the car. “And what would you know about that?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She threw him a devilish grin, then disappeared into the car.

Marco moved like he was on fire. “Yes, I would.”

She settled back into her seat and crossed her arms. “A girl has to have some secrets. Now, you wanted to drive? Drive. And give us some tunes while you’re at it.”

She was teasing him, right? Of course. He found some music, started the car, and eased out of the driveway. “Windows down?”