Rescue Me: A Bad Boy Military Romance (8 page)

“What’s that?” I ask as drily as I can. But my cracking voice gives me away.

“I’m having a hard time focusing on math right now. See, there’s this gorgeous girl sitting next to me,” he says, nuzzling his mouth up to my ear.

I drop my pencil and relax into him. “I have to get home soon. My mom has to come pick me up and she doesn’t like driving when it’s dark.”

He pushes my curly hair off of my shoulder and kisses my neck. “Text your mom that you have a ride, then. I’ll drive you home.” He keeps kissing me and I’m having a hard time breathing under his touch. I surrender to it as he finds my lips, kissing him passionately. He runs his hands over my chest and I sigh as he bites my lip.

He reaches under my shirt and I pull his hand away. “We can’t. Not here,” I say embarrassed.

Luke laughs. “You afraid the janitor’s going to walk in here?”

“No, it just feels weird to make out in the library.”

“Let’s go to my truck, then. The seats fold down,” he breathes against my neck.

My resolve is substantially weakening with every single touch of his lips on my neck. I can’t hold out much longer. We’ve been dating for a few months, but we haven’t had sex yet. I’m not sure how much more I can wait. But at the same time, I hardly feel ready. “Luke…” I say softly. “I can’t. Not yet.”

He pulls away from me, disappointment etched across his face. But he recovers quickly with a smile. He tucks the homework into his math textbook and shuts it, standing up. “Making out only. I promise. Scout’s honor.” He holds out his hand and I take it, reaching up to kiss his lips.

The door to the library opens and we pull away from each other. I turn to see who is standing there. It’s Amy. She looks pissed. “Sorry for
interrupting
,” she says. “Miss Tanya asked me to turn off the lights in the library.” She’s fuming.

“No problem. We were taking this show elsewhere anyway,” Luke says amicably. He picks up my backpack for me and takes my hand. “Night, Amy.”

He says this like it’s nothing, but I can feel the fire burning from her gaze as we leave.

We step out into the late April air, an unseasonably cool breeze falling across my skin. “Hey,” Luke says, my hand still entwined with his. “I think you and I should go to prom together.”

I swallow hard. “Alright,” I reply.

Luke stops and pulls me against him. “I’m sorry. Did I only just have to ask you
once
to go out with me and you said yes?”

“Write it down in your calendar if you’re so shocked,” I reply. “The day that you convinced me to go to prom without you having to embarrass yourself in front of the entire school.”

Luke sweeps me off my feet and carries me to his beat-up pickup truck.

Pure joy rushes through my body. I’m going to prom. With Luke Davis.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

ELLA

PRESENT DAY

“I’m just saying, for someone who says she doesn’t care so much, you sure are trying on a lot of different outfits,” Alexa says to me from the sofa. It’s the night of my welcome-home barbecue and I’m panicking. I have no idea what to wear.

I’ve turned my living room into a dressing room. I hold up a black dress and look at myself in my camera phone; it’s substituting for a mirror. “What time do you have to pick up Teddy from his play date?” I ask her.

She checks her watch. “In about a half an hour,” she replies. “So if you want me to do your hair and makeup, you better decide on an outfit.” She glances at the pile. “I liked the pink one, to be honest.”

“I don’t have any shoes to wear with that one, though,” I say, never sounding so girlish in my entire life.

“You don’t have any shoes for a barbecue in that pile, either,” she says. “They’re all stilettos.”

“It’s been awhile since I’ve had to walk on grass,” I say. “There’s a lot of pavement in Southern California.”

She sighs. “It all just sounds so glamorous to me, being out on the West Coast in big cities like L.A. and San Diego for so long.”

“Yeah, I miss it already. Mostly the sushi. And the people. And the relatively low humidity.” I run my hand through my hair. “It’ll never be straight again, I’d guess.”

“Luke got drunk one night and confessed to Adam that he likes your hair curly,” she says, and my stomach flips at the sound of his name. “So I’d keep it like that.”

I blush and turn away from her. “I don’t care about that.”

Alexa groans. “Don’t give me that crap,” she says, handing me the pink dress and a pair of shiny black stilettos. “Go change and I’ll get the rest of you polished up.”

Half an hour later, I’ve transformed. Alexa’s even managed to make my enormous hair look manageable. It falls in tight curls to my shoulders. “It’s been awhile since I’ve been to a party,” I confess.

“It’s been awhile since you’re been to a
Buxwell
party. That’s what you should be worried about. You got your two-steppin’ boots on, girl?” she asks me on the way out the door, exaggerating her Texas accent. “See you at the party!” she calls back.

I’m so nervous that I end up wiping down my kitchen twice, even though it hardly needs it. I think back to earlier today when Luke and I finished up painting the clinic. How his tattoos had shone with the sweat of hard work, his hard muscles rippling under his skin. How he still managed to smell like a rainstorm even after a day of getting grubby and filthy while renovating. “Stop it, Ella,” I say to myself out loud. My phone rings and I jump about a foot. “Hello?”

“Hey, girl! How is it in Middle-of-Nowhere, Texas?” Sam asks with a laugh.

“Hey, Sam. It’s…interesting,” I reply. “And how is the big city life treating you?”

“It’s harder than I thought,” she replies. “This plastic surgery fellowship might be harder than residency.”

“And here you thought you’d be getting off easy with a big-income job,” I reply, feeling a little smug.

“Yeah, well. We all gotta pay our dues. You see any patients yet?”

“I’ve mostly been channeling my inner HGTV worker bee,” I reply, putting a final polish on my two-burner stainless steel stove. “Doing a bunch of renovations to the clinic here. It’s in pretty bad shape.”

Sam tuts sympathetically. “Have you been working alone?”

“Um, no,” I say, feeling my cheeks heat up.

“Ella. You better tell me who the man is.”

“What man?” I ask, totally unconvincingly.

“The man that’s laced in your ‘um no’ reply to me,” she says.

“He’s nobody. No one. Well, he’s. He’s my high school boyfriend, actually.” I feel myself getting girlish again. If this were a nineteen-sixties teen movie, I’d be on my stomach with my feet in the air twirling the spiral cord of a landline around my finger. I clear my throat. “But it’s not like that.”

“Oooh, rekindling an old flame? Sounds sexy. I like it. You better keep me updated on that little soap opera of yours, then.”

“There’s nothing to keep up with, honestly,” I say, but a smile has crept to my face and I can’t push it away.

“Right, okay,” Sam replies with heavy skepticism. “Listen. Jason’s been calling people asking about you.”

I roll my eyes. “He
cannot
take no for an answer, can he?” I ask with dread in my stomach.

“Yeah, well. Just watch out, okay? I told you he was bad news when you started dating him last year. He’s super fuckable, but there’s something off about him that bothers me. I just want you to be careful, that’s all.”

I laugh and try to make it sound light-hearted. But in honesty, her words have chilled me to the bone. “I might as well be a million miles away from Santa Barbara, Sam,” I say. “I really don’t think that Jason even knows what
leaving California
is. I’m not sure he knows that’s possible.” But the chills that appeared a moment ago won’t leave me alone. “Hey, I gotta go,” I say. “The town is having a party for me tonight.”

Sam laughs. “I can’t imagine living in a place small enough or being famous enough for an
entire town
to be throwing me a party. It sounds kind of nice to be cared about that much. I don’t even know my mailman’s name.”

“Yeah, well. Imagine everyone from your high school showing up to say hello to you.”

I can practically hear Sam shuddering through the phone. “No thanks! You’ve cured me of that fantasy.”

I ring off and pack up my purse, wheeling my shiny, red bicycle outside. I don’t bother to lock the door behind me. This is Buxwell, Texas. Nobody locks their doors here.

I use the bottom step of my porch to push the bicycle into motion. It rides as smoothly as I imagine it did the day that it was purchased decades ago. The wind whips over my face and I let out a scream of happiness and satisfaction entirely against my will. I feel giddy, like a little kid again.

And a not-so-little part of me knows it’s because I’m about to see Luke.

I pedal faster down the dirt road towards town. If Sam could only see me now, I’m not sure she would recognize me.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

LUKE

I wake up from my mid-afternoon nap with pain shooting through my leg. I pound at the painfully contracting muscle with my fist, hoping the pain of my knuckles against the muscle will kill my original pain. It doesn’t. I reach over to take more pain pills.

My house doesn’t have air conditioning, so I’m sleeping naked as usual. It’s on my list; the never-ending list of renovation work that accompanies this money pit, decrepit, former oil-baron mansion I bought. It’ll basically never be finished, and I’ve come to accept that. I look at the clock and realize I’ve napped too long. Ella’s party has already started.

“Fuck!” I say to no one. I crawl out of bed on all fours, the pain in my leg debilitating me. I make it to the bathroom, one of the only rooms in the house I’ve managed to finish. And I had to finish it first.

Ella always wanted a claw foot tub.

I turn the tap as hot as it will go and pour Epsom salts into the rushing water. Steam comes up and makes the hot bathroom even hotter. I see that the sun is setting outside of the window. I push myself up against the tub and crank the handle to open up the casement window. A small breeze pushes through and I sigh with relief.

I wait on the cold tile floor until the tub is nearly filled, then lower my body into the scalding water, wincing with pain. But it does the trick, even if I’m nearly giving myself first-degree burns on the rest of my body. My leg relaxes. I stare at my twisted, scarred upper thigh with disgust.

Tough guys like scars. And if this were just a scar? I’d love it too. Instead, half my muscle has been cut away, leaving me disfigured. At least I don’t limp too much. I can’t rush this bath, as much as I don’t want Ella to think I’ve forgotten about her. I just need to be in here long enough for my pain pills to kick in.

I tap the warm ceramic edge of the white, curved tub and close my eyes, picturing Ella’s face. Her red, untamable hair fills my mind, and I imagine getting my fingers tangled up in it as I drive myself into her perfect, soft body over and over and over again while she calls out my name.

I’ve waited so long for her. But in my mind I didn’t expect to have to work to get her attention again. I thought time would have healed the way I hurt her.

I thought wrong.

***

“Thank God, I thought you weren’t coming,” Tanya says to me at the entrance to the party. The big barn behind the Masonic hall has been filled with music and alcohol, and white lights have been strung from the ceiling. The hay bales have been turned into seating, worn wood slab tables set up for a picnic. The smell of smoked pork fills my nostrils. Tanya hands me a bottle of beer, but I push it away from her. It
would
fit the image I’m going for of sexy, bad-ass cowboy, but narcotics and alcohol don’t mix.

I know that better than most people at this point. “I’m good,” I say, looking through the massive crowd.

“She’s dancing with Clarence,” Tanya says with a knowing look on her face. “I tell you what, I heard you two were getting cozy at the hardware store a few days ago. Wanna tell me about that?”

I grin at her. “I’m just being neighborly, Tanya. Helping out an old friend with a renovation.”

Tanya reaches up and adjusts the collar of my button-down shirt. “Well, then, Mr. Neighborly. You’ve got shaving cream on your cheek you might want to take care of.”

I reach up to wipe it off and realize there’s nothing there. Tanya laughs hysterically. “You’re a lot of things, Luke Davis. A good liar isn’t one of them.” She pats my shoulder and smiles at me. “You go get your girl before Clarence makes a move.”

I laugh. Clarence is the town’s oldest living resident. He’s nearly one hundred years old, a war veteran, and walks with a stoop. I say hi to people as I push my way toward the wooden dance floor where I keep seeing flashes of Ella’s red hair. I’m nearly there when I feel a cold hand on my arm. “Luke Davis, as I live and breathe,” slurs a high-pitched voice. I groan internally.

“Amy Waters,” I reply. “Drunk as ever, I see.”

She has a sloppy grin on her face and a beer in her hand. Her denim jacket sleeves are rolled up, and her fake cleavage is pushed together out of the top of her flowered dress. “You are such a tease, Luke,” she says, patting her voluminous hair.

“And you are
married
, Amy. Where is that asshole husband of yours, anyway?” I ask.

She rolls her eyes. “Probably banging the nanny in the bathroom. Like I care,” she adds darkly, sipping her bottle of Corona. Some of it dribbles down her face and I see tears forming behind her eyes.

I sigh and take her by the elbow. “Let’s get you sat down somewhere with a glass of water,” I say to her. I spot some of her friends and we weave our way over to them. “Will you take care of this? Make sure she doesn’t wander into traffic like a stray fucking puppy,” I say.

A few of them sigh, and Vicky Martinez shrugs. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Yeah, continue being
such
great friends to her,” I say sarcastically, leaving Amy behind with her head in her hands. I fish a bottle of water out of a massive tailgating cooler and unscrew it. Several more people shout out a greeting.