Tony: Alvarez Security Series (9 page)

Sucking her lips in, she glanced toward the dark window. “I was foolish to come here, wasn’t I?”

“I wouldn’t say foolish, but maybe unprepared. Honestly, honey? I kinda blame Mr. Marks for not checking the weather before offering you his cabin. He shoulda known that your mind wasn’t on looking at the news.”

“I think he was just worried about me. I did receive a text message from him and I let him know I got here safe.”

Nodding toward the sofa, he asked, “You want to sit by the fire for a little bit?”

Her face lit up with a smile and she moved to where she had been sitting before supper. He watched her smile and felt the piercing in his chest once again. Right over his heart. She moved gracefully, everything about her elegant. He did not know how long he stood there just staring at her until she broke his trance.

“Tony? Are you going to sit too?”

Settling his large frame next to hers on the overstuffed cushions, he could not help but smile himself. It felt strange on his face. A smile.
Jesus, when was the last time I really smiled?
Her hand was resting on the sofa between them. Not too close to seem grasping, but available if he wanted to take her hand again. Small. Delicate. Beckoning.

He reached out and slid his fingers around hers. Just that connection felt right, as though he were beginning to see her as a life-line. Something to hold on to that was real. “Did you…understand what I was trying to say earlier? Before dinner. About us?”

Looking down at their clasped hands, she admitted, “I understand that you were avoiding me because you care for me but don’t feel like you should. And that you wished we hadn’t had sex up against the wal—”

“Not as your first time,” he interrupted. “Sherrie, I never lose control. If I lost control in the Special Forces, men could die. With my agency if I lose control, a mission can go wrong and others can get hurt.”

“So…,” she hesitated. “You’re not sorry we had sex, but sorry you lost control?”

“Yeah.”

“But Tony, sometimes life is about losing control. Giving into feelings. Going with your gut reaction. Not everything in life is going to be like a planned mission.”

Shaking his head, a sadness crossed his expression as he said, “I don’t like the feeling of not controlling things around me.” He looked up and continued, “We haven’t even touched on the part of me not using a condom. I swear I’m clean. I’ve got the papers to pro—”

“I trust you,” she said quickly, hating the turn of the conversation.

“Well, if you get pregnant you’ve got to tell me—”

“Stop, just stop,” she said, her anger beginning to rise. “I will not be your mission again. Poor little virgin gets pregnant and you have to rescue her one more fucking time!”

The silence stretched between them. She saw the shadows of the firelight flicker across his chiseled face. His demons still existed deep inside and until he could let go of them, she would never really have him to herself.
I don’t mind you having a past, but if I can’t have all of you…

Several minutes passed, both lost in their thoughts. “What are you thinking?” he asked softly, both wanting and dreading her answer.

Licking her lips, she kept her gaze steady as she answered, “I’ve wanted you for a very long time. There’s so much about each other that we know and yet I’m sitting here thinking that we’re still such strangers.” With a final squeeze of his fingers, she stood, looking down on him. “I gave myself to you gladly. Was it spontaneous? Yes. Was it amazing? Absolutely. The difference is that you have regrets because of whatever-the-hell keeps you from really living life. I get that something’s in your past that keeps you wanting complete control. We all have our demons, Tony. And for someone who is all about maintaining control, you have lost it with them.”

At that, his gaze shot up toward hers in question.

“Yeah, Tony. You say you’re in control, but whatever has hold of you…whatever holds you back? That’s what really controls your life.”

With that, she walked toward the bedroom alone. At the doorway, she paused but did not turn around.
If I look at his face, I won’t be able to be strong.
Sighing deeply, she added, “I want you Tony. But I want all of you. I deserve all of you. Not just the little part that you’re willing to give to me.”
I want more than friendship.

She walked into the bedroom and closed the door. Sliding out of her sweat pants and sweatshirt, she pulled on her pajamas again and crawled under the covers, glad that the heat was still working in the cabin. She wondered if she would be able to sleep, but exhaustion took over and she drifted off. For the moment, peace was only found in slumber.

S
leep did not
come so easily for Tony. He sat for a long time, looking into the flickering flames dancing in the firelight. Strange, but fire was comforting to him. It always took him back to the campfires he and his men would sit around. On cold nights in Afghanistan, it was sometimes the only warmth they had. Tony’s mind opened and he allowed himself to wander back in time.

It was easier then…to talk, share, feel. At least before. Before life came to a screeching halt and the coldness seeped in to stay. After that, the campfire conversations centered around their missions. Looking back, he knew that was when the missions became his life. His control. Nothing else mattered but getting in, getting the job done, and getting all his men out safely.

Reaching into his back pocket finding his wallet, he pulled out the faded, worn picture. His fingers traced the faces once again.
It’s getting harder to remember your face, Marla. But I remember how you made me feel. Happy. Like I was the center of your fuckin’ world.
He thought about how old Sofia would be by now.
Running around? Playing? What would be your favorite food?
As much as his heart ached, he could not picture what she would look like if she were still alive. In his mind, she would always be the tiny, wrapped up infant he held the day she was born.

What would you want, Marla? You gotta tell me, ’cause I’m lost here. I’m afraid to move forward…to open myself up to that kind of pain again.

“
Life without pain, isn’t really living.”
Where have I heard that? Jesus, fuck. That was what she told me when she was in labor with Sofia.
The memory washed over him as he thought back to the long, arduous labor. He hated seeing her in pain and had told her that he would take it all away if he could.
She just looked up at me between contractions and said, “Life without pain, isn’t really living.”

At the time, he simply thought she meant that without the labor there would be no baby. But maybe, just maybe she meant more. Was telling him more. Was even giving him permission to live again, even if it opened him up to pain.

I want to try again, Marla. I want to try with Sherrie.
He did not feel out of control. Panicked. Unsure. Instead, for the first time in a very long time, he knew what he wanted to do.
Tomorrow,
he vowed,
I’ll start something new with her. Show her what I can be. What we can be. And treat her the way she deserves to be treated.

Sighing, he stretched his long frame on the sofa, pleasantly surprised that it accommodated his height. With his head on the arm, he lay with the photograph on his chest while staring at the fire. His eyes finally closed, falling into a troubled sleep.

In the middle of the night Sherrie quietly got out of bed to go to the bathroom. Not seeing Tony at first, she tiptoed toward the fire, seeing him asleep on the couch. Unwilling to disturb him, she turned to move away when a photograph on his chest caught her eye. She took one step closer, peering down to see a faded picture of a younger, smiling Tony with a beautiful dark haired woman holding a newborn baby.

Heart pounding, she felt sick as her mind raced. His hand, curled around the baby had a wedding ring.
He was married. Married.
Her thoughts swirled as she ran through the possibilities.
He’d never leave his wife and baby which can only mean…oh my God. They must be…
Not letting her mind accept the possibility that a young mother and baby could have died and what that would have done to a man like Tony, she numbly tiptoed back to her room.

A heavy weight pressed on her chest as she lay back down in the bed.
A beautiful wife. A new baby. A smiling Tony.
She rolled to her side, as a silent tear slid down her face landing on the pillow.

I’m a poor girl from a foster background with a dead, fucked-up druggie sister who had threatened his friends. I’m not good enough. I’ll never be good enough. It looks like he had perfect. I am nowhere near perfect.

Wiping her face, she realized that it was time to cut Tony loose. Time to let go of the idea of them together. Time to move on.

*

Tony woke suddenly,
his military senses on alert. Not used to sleeping so soundly, it took a moment to figure out what he was hearing. Jumping up off the sofa, he caught sight of the photograph that had landed on the floor. Grabbing it, he slid it back into his wallet. Torn between feeling lighter than he had in a long time and knowing that something was not right, he glanced to see the bedroom door was open and then sprinted to the front door to see the noise coming from the outside.

Throwing open the door he halted, stunned at the scene in front of him. The snow was still swirling creating a winter wonderland, completely covering their cars. Sherrie’s suitcase was sitting on the front porch and she was…
what the fuck is she doing?

She was wrapped up in her coat, scarf, hat, and had tromped over to her car where she was attempting to rake almost a foot of snow off with her little scraper. If he was not so pissed, he would have been amused.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” he yelled.

She turned and looked at the angry man on the porch. Legs apart, hands on his hips, sleep tousled hair.
Damn, this had seemed like a good idea when I got up.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” she yelled back. “I thought I would try to clear my car off so that I could go back home.”

“Woman, so what if you clear off the car? The driveway and roads are still impassable. You’re not fuckin’ going anywhere.”

“Well, I’ll be ready when they are clear,” she yelled back.

“Then what’s your suitcase doing sitting on the porch?”

“Um…” she said, no quick response coming to mind.

“Get your ass back in the cabin right now,” he ordered, his irritation ratcheting up to anger.

“You can’t order me around,” she yelled, now feeling foolish. The snow was landing on her face, freezing little crystals that made her cheeks hurt. Glancing over at her car, the small amount of snow that she had scraped off had been replaced by a fresh layer.

Sighing heavily, she turned toward the cabin trying to step in snow that had drifted in small mountains that came to her knees. Two steps in, she lost her footing falling face first into a pile.

Grabbing his boots and sliding his feet into them, he headed down the steps toward her. By the time he reached her floundering form, she was pushing herself up. She looked up, extending her hand toward him.

Ignoring it, he scooped her up and toss her over his shoulder, giving her ass a slap in the process. Tromping through the snow, he carefully mounted the steps, snagged her luggage with his free hand and set it inside the door before kicking it shut with his boot. Walking over to the fire, he set her down and put his hands on her shoulders.

Bending down to her eye level, he said, “We’re talking about this stunt later. But right now, we’re getting you undressed and warm, then I’ll go whip up some breakfast.”

Pulling her gloves off, her cold fingers fumbled with the buttons on her coat. He moved her hands away and unbuttoned it, pulled it off and gently pushed her down onto the leather seat closest to the fire. Kneeling, he pulled her boots off and rubbed her feet to try to get some warmth back into them.

Standing, he looked down sternly and said, “Stay,” as he turned to walk into the kitchen.

“I’m not a dog to be ordered around,” she groused.

“Don’t push me, Sherrie. You pull another stunt like that and you’ll find your ass bared and reddened,” he barked from the other room.

She looked askance, not remembering anyone ever threatening her with a spanking before. Not as a child and certainly not as an adult. A retort was on the tip of her tongue, but she wisely decided that she would not tempt fate. And she had to admit that the fire’s warmth was penetrating her frozen hands and toes.

A few minutes later the smells of coffee and bacon were drifting from the kitchen.
He’s going to think I can’t cook since he did supper and breakfast. Nope, doesn’t matter what he thinks. I didn’t invite him here anyway,
she thought stubbornly.

Standing up, she made her way to the kitchen, watching the scene in front of her. Tony’s back was to her, the tight t-shirt stretched across his muscles.
He came out into the snow in just a t-shirt to see what I was doing.