Out of Uniform (Wingmen Warriors #14)

Out of Uniform (Wingmen Warriors #14) Page 14
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Out of Uniform (Wingmen Warriors #14) Page 14

Abruptly she tipped back the bottle for a long gulp at odds with her pinky waving defiantly in the night. She swiped her wrist across her mouth and passed the beer back to him. “Here, take it before I finish it all.”

Their fingers brushed as he reclaimed his drink. He wanted her, wanted to lose himself in her softness, her innocence.

With a last, token effort at distancing himself from Dee, Jacob emptied his longneck with a final swallow. Damn, but he could taste her on the glass. And damned again if he didn’t intend to indulge in a fuller sampling of undiluted Dee.

Chapter 9

D ee watched Jacob lower the bottle, his lips still damp from the beer they’d shared. She couldn’t look away from his mouth, couldn’t stop wanting to kiss him again. But she wouldn’t be the one to make the first move, not this time. Parking lot lights shimmered with a muted glow while she waited, thirsty for the taste of Jacob.

Reaching past her, he set aside the longneck. His arm brushed hers, the heat of his chest warming her until her br**sts tightened in response beneath her coat. His eyes stilled her and embraced her with a stormy blue desire, an ache mirrored inside her.

She could see he needed her, maybe for all the wrong reasons, just as she’d needed him after the doctor visit. Suddenly what should be wrong felt incredibly right.

She swayed forward.

“Ah, Dee.” He groaned her name, low and husky, more beautiful coming from his mouth than a simple syllable should have any right to be.

His hand shot up to cup the back of her head, tuck under the hat and flick it free. Her hair swirled around her as his fingers combed sensuous paths along her scalp.

Endless seconds later, Jacob’s mouth skimmed hers. Relief swelled through her as she nestled where she’d burned to be all day, all week, for as long as she could remember. He claimed her mouth. Claimed, and demanded she do the same in return. He tugged on her bottom lip, enticed until she opened to accept him.

Dee decided she’d acquired a taste for beer after all, or maybe it was the way the rich ferment tasted on Jacob’s tongue. The warm tang of it induced a heady rush. Surely the buzzing along her every nerve was a by-product of alcohol.

Yeah, right.

Locking her arms around Jacob’s neck, she explored the breadth of his shoulders as his restless hands slipped beneath her coat to her back, down her waist. God he was big, yet no longer intimidating as she’d feared the first time her eyes traveled up the length of him. She’d learned he used his size for protection rather than intimidation.

Dee snuggled closer, couldn’t get close enough. Without breaking their kiss, Jacob lowered her to the quilt and blanketed her with his body as their legs tangled. Dee danced her tongue against his, learning the taste of Jacob, which only served to send her into another dizzying spiral of pure sensation.

They rolled until she landed on top, and she found she liked it there. Jacob shifted to take her weight fully upon him. She liked that even more, Jacob allowing her some control for a change, even in such a fundamental way.

A clatter rumbled along the truck bed. Dee tried to block out what she didn’t want to hear. The beer bottle clanked, spinning until it shattered against the icy parking lot.

“Jacob—”

“I’ll clean it up later.” He nuzzled her neck again, but the moment had been broken, as well.

Realization chilled Dee more than the frost in the air. What was she doing? Not five minutes ago she’d been sharing memories of the family she’d most likely left behind, and now she was crawling all over Jacob like some sex-starved teenager because of Valentine’s Day sentimentality.

Dee pushed herself up beside him. Jacob blinked twice before flinging his arm over his face.

His arm fell away. “I’m s—”

“Don’t say you’re sorry.” She hugged her knees to her chest in counterpressure against an ache with Jacob’s name tattooed all over it. “I’m the one who should apologize.”

Jacob jackknifed up as he raked his hands through his hair. It wasn’t long hair, but she’d managed to make a fine mess of it all the same, just like she’d done with her life. And might do with his if she wasn’t careful.

“What is it with me, Jacob? I told myself it didn’t matter what had happened before, only what I do now, but I can’t even keep my hands off you for a week. I barely know anything about you, like your favorite ice cream or why your friends call you Mako.” She squeezed her knees harder, pushing all the air free until she could only whisper, “What kind of a woman am I?”

He grasped her chin, his grip a fraction past gentle. “I don’t know what the hell was going on in your life before you came here, either. But regardless of how long we’ve spent together, I do know who you are, the person that’s real, underneath any layer of memories.” His touch gentled to a caress. “There’s an innocence and goodness in you that’s rare, special. Don’t doubt it for a minute.”

She wanted to believe him, yearned to grasp his words with both hands and accept them simply because Jacob said so. But that kind of blind faith, a dependency, also raked over an innately pragmatic part of her.

She had to prove to herself she wasn’t simply a “Mrs. Smith” who drooled over any man. “Then why do I want to lie back on that blanket and finish this?”

Jacob’s jaw flexed.

Dee’s shivered in response. “Not smart, huh?”

“Nope.” His hand shook as he hooked her hair behind her ear. A lone trailer of the Northern Lights shimmered across the sky. “I think you should go inside now.”

“Right. Of course.” She scrambled toward the tailgate.

“Dee?”

She glanced over her shoulder. Heaven help her if he called her back. “Yes?”

“Butter pecan ice cream. And Mako started out as Maaco, like the auto repair company, because I can fix any engine on any vehicle. Later the spelling tweaked to Mako, as in the shark, because it sounds cool.” He tipped back his head, eyes tipped toward the stars, conversation over.

His words settled into her memory along with his assertion that he knew her very well, regardless of time. She wanted…She didn’t know what.

A final look at Jacob confirmed he’d withdrawn from her. How remote he seemed, with those shadows muting the vibrancy of his beautiful eyes like the aurora lighting the sky then slipping away leaving the world feeling colder and darker than before.

In spite of all her intentions to be his friend while she pieced her life together, she’d done it again. She’d thrown herself at him. It didn’t matter that he’d made the first move tonight. She hadn’t thought to push him away for a long time.

Still wished she hadn’t pushed him away at all.

Dee scrambled out of the truck and raced as fast as she dared through the sludge back toward the warm safety and stark isolation of her hotel room.

Dee sank deeper into the soothing bubble bath, then jolted as she realized the water had cooled. How long had she been in here since tearing off her clothes to soak after the frustrating encounter with Jacob in his truck?

She swiped at the remaining few frothy patches of soap. She must have drifted off. Too bad she couldn’t wake up and find this whole time had been some freaky nightmare.

Except she wouldn’t want to wish away Jacob.

How many of her feelings for him were tied up in dependence? Or some sort of weird crush because he’d saved her? She wanted to think she was above such shallowness, but she didn’t really know that much about herself.

She did, however, know everything about Jacob so far spoke of honor and goodness. Her attraction to him was based on more than the way he filled out his blue jeans.

Laughing, she blew bubbles from the back of her hand. Laughter echoed in the small bathroom, bouncing off the tile and back around her until silence fell again.

Nothing but drip, drip, drip from the faucet.

An eerie sensation slid over her, chilling her faster than the cooling water. She tried to get a grip. Of course it was quiet. She was alone in her room, but she’d locked the door.

Had she put on the chain and the dead bolt?

She couldn’t remember. How could she have grown so complacent in such a short time? She shouldn’t count on others for her safety. No matter how much help Jacob and his friends offered, they had only known her a short while. How important could she really be to them so fast? She wanted to start relying on herself, to grow stronger to face whatever life she’d forgotten.

Carefully, she rose from the tub and reached for a towel to wrap around herself. Not much for armor, but she was only confronting ghostly fears, nothing real except her paranoia.

A bracing breath later, she twisted the doorknob and stepped into the room to—

Nobody. The motel room was empty but for the two neatly made-up beds and a chair with her hand-me-down blue robe on the armrest. She sagged back against the sink in the dressing area with relief.

Turning, she reached for her comb and blinked.

Streaks of bloodred lipstick glared back at her from the mirror. All capital letters. One word.

DEAD.

Jacob tipped back the chair behind the check-in desk and thought about his dead father, really thought about the old man for the first time. He’d done a good job of ignoring the man’s presence stamped all over the place, but then Dee had asked about the “Mako” call sign, which led to thoughts of learning everything he could about engines in hopes of earning his father’s approval.

Clyde Stone was gone. Really gone. For so many years, Jacob had worked to gain his dad’s attention, then worked harder to ignore the selfish bastard’s existence.

Now he was dead and Jacob couldn’t stop thinking about him. Because of Dee. Because he realized having a past, even a crummy one, was better than none at all.

They hadn’t had much of a father/son relationship, yet the man had been a towering presence. His father put on such a good face, all smiles and laughter—as long as no demands were placed on him. No wonder Clyde had never gone out of his way to make this business a success. He hadn’t wanted the commitment.

The last thought stopped him cold.

Had he picked up that very trait from his old man? Sure, thirty-two wasn’t old to be a bachelor. However, he couldn’t ignore the fact that he usually bailed from any relationship once it grew serious.

He tipped back his beer and stared through the window at the old truck Emily drove. The vehicle should have long ago been sent to the junkyard. No question it would die soon now that their father wasn’t around to milk more life out of it. They’d spent a lot of hours tinkering with that engine when Jacob had been a teen.

Those silent moments seeped into his brain—

A muffled noise jerked him back into the moment, the sound of a door opening outside, crashing against the wall.

Jacob vaulted to his feet and crossed to the wide window, peering farther down the parking lot. Holy crap. Dee bolted out to the walkway wearing just a robe and untied tennis shoes. Her wet hair rode the wind behind her as she raced toward the office.

What the hell was going on?

He threw open the door and caught her as she slipped on the steps. “Dee? What’s wrong?”

Had she suddenly remembered? She definitely looked stunned.

“Someone br-broke into my r-room.” Her teeth chattered, with cold or fear or both.

He could certainly understand because right now he felt chilled to the bone. “Are you okay?”

While hauling her into the office, he searched the parking lot for signs of an intruder. He saw plenty of tire ruts and recalled hearing minimal traffic while he’d sat in his truck, but nothing now.

And hell, he needed to get to Emily and the baby.

“I’m f-fine. Whoever it was left before I got out of the tub.”

“Good. Good.” He pointed to a connecting door. “Go through there, stay with Emily and call the police while I check outside.”

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