Devlin's Grace (3 page)

 
After accepting the cup, she put it down on
the end table and touched the old burn.
 
Her fingers brushed against the coarse skin and marveled to find it
cool.
 
She expected heat, but it would’ve
gone long ago.
 
Dev started to jerk away
from her, but when she touched him, he stopped.
 
Like a bird poised for flight, he remained still as she stroked the
damaged area.

Before
she could speak, he pulled his arm back. With a defiant glint in his eyes, he
removed his t-shirt. “If you want to see the scars, you can see them all,” Dev
said,
voice harsh and hoarse.
 

He
revealed a torso dappled with terrible raised welts, both back and belly.
 
These scars were worse than the others.
 
Raised red ropes twined like vines over his
flesh, fused and almost melted.
 

The
agony Dev must have endured was beyond anything she could imagine. Gracie’s
eyes brimmed with tears.
 
They spilled
over, down her cheeks with silent hurt.
 
One glance at his face, set hard and as stoic as a statue, intensified
her empathy.
 
She laid her right hand on
his back, his scarred flesh beneath her touch and with her left she touched the
center of his chest.

Beneath
her hand his heartbeat thumped, rapid but steady.
 
His eyes locked with hers and in them Gracie
glimpsed flickers of his personal hell.
  
Confusion showed up, too, along with regret and maybe shame.

Whatever
she did or said now would be pivotal, she sensed.
 
Based on her actions he’d either leave and be
gone from her forever, something she didn’t want, or a new beginning would
emerge, delicate and fragile.
 
If she
took time to think, she’d be lost, so Gracie mined deep into her woman’s
soul.
 
When words came, she spoke them,
her voice soft and yet as constant as the evening stars.
 
“Oh, Dev, it must’ve hurt so much.”

“I
don’t want your pity,” he said, a snarl transforming his face into something
wolfish, alien.
 
“Don’t feel sorry for
me, babe.
 
I don’t need charity, and I
sure as hell don’t need you to tell me some dumb ass, feel-good bunch of
shit.
 
So quit crying over me.
 
Maybe it makes you feel better, but it makes
me mad.”

“It
isn’t pity,” Gracie said. “I admire you.
 
It takes a lot of courage to overcome hurts like this.
 
I hurt for you, but I don’t feel sorry for
you.
 
I hate you had to go through such
pain, but I’m crying because I care.”

 
His hard face softened a little. “Why?”

In
this raw moment, she could give him nothing but honesty. “I don’t know, but I
do.”

Then
Gracie leaned forward and bent just enough to touch her lips to one of the
ugliest lesions, the worst of the scars.
 
He shuddered as she kissed his chest and when she lifted her tear-streaked
face, Devlin grasped her arms.
 
He held
her in place and kissed her back, full on the mouth, without remorse or
mercy.
  

Gracie
gasped with surprise.
 
His lips burned
hers as if she kissed a devil fresh from the pit, but she liked it.
 
Her body answered his call, and her arms
moved to circle his neck as she gave him back the kiss.

No
man had ever kissed her with such thorough savagery or such hungry need.
 
Shy by nature, Gracie dated young men with
quiet demeanors, who were bookish and bashful.
 
None dared to take her mouth and claim it with potent fire.
 
Her body charged with wild electricity.
 
Gracie’s response scared her, but not enough
to move away from the flame.
 

Dev
ran his big hands through her hair, gentle and yet insistent, his mouth hooked
tight to hers like a bass caught with a spinner and skirt.
 
At first his motions were a little clumsy,
but as he continued, Gracie could tell he knew exactly what he was doing.
 
Even with her limited experience she knew he
kissed well.
 
Like a child told dessert
was out of the question, she craved more regardless of the consequences.
 
She leaned hard against him, her hips moving
against his body in a dance older than time.

Without
warning, he pulled away, panting, and stared at her with wide eyes.
 
Dev outlined her bottom lip with his upturned
thumb and shook his head. “I’ll be damned.”

Head
cocked, she queried him. “Why?”

“You
didn’t run and you liked it.”

A
different heat rose and she felt her cheeks turn hot, blushing. “And so what if
I did?”

He
grinned, a full and huge smile.
 
“I’d
never guessed what a wild woman was hiding under your pretty face.
 
Gracie, you shouldn’t invite strange men to
your apartment.”

His
admonition amused her. “I don’t,” she said.

“You
did me.”

“It’s
different with you.” She knew it for certain, just not how or why.

Devlin
groped for his discarded shirt and pulled it on.
 
Watching, she saw a variety of emotions play
over his face.
 
“Yeah, it is.
 
I don’t know how to tell you this…”

What
now? Gracie waited to see what he’d say, ready to defend her emotions or
surrender to another kiss. “What?”

“I
used to dream about a woman who looked a lot like you,” Devlin confessed. “I
made her up when I was in Iraq.
 
You
could be her sister.”

Tiny
little ripples of excitement played hide and seek along her spine. “Is it good
or bad?”

He
cocked his head. “I think it’s good, maybe, for me. I don’t know yet for you.
 
I’m a loner, Gracie, and bad to the bone.”

She
didn’t agree, but said nothing.
 
Her
emotions overflowed in a jumble of confusion.
 
All the angst she suffered about going to a new evening class paled in
comparison to meeting Devlin – something she never expected.

Instead,
Gracie said, “There’s more coffee in the pot.
 
Do you want another cup?”

Dev
hesitated,
then
shook his head. “It’s getting
late.
 
I need to go. I have work tomorrow,
and if I stay, there’s no telling what I might do.
 
Thanks, Gracie.
 
I’ll see you next week at class, I guess.”

Her
mouth ached from his kisses and she didn’t want him to leave.
 
But Gracie refused to beg.
 
She would, however, be nosey without remorse.
“Sure.
 
Where did you say you worked?”

The
ghost of a grin flitted across his mouth. “I didn’t,” Devlin said. “But I’ll
tell you anyway.
 
I work security at
Wal-Mart, the one over on Kansas Expressway. Anything else you want to ask?”

 
Gracie longed to ask where he lived, but
she’d quit for now.
 
“No, just take care
and try to get some sleep.”
 
One eyebrow
lifted in query and she added, “You look worn out, that’s all.”

Devlin
sighed with so much force his shoulders slumped.
 
“I am.
 
And I’ll try.”

She
remembered his jacket, hanging in the kitchen. “Let me get your coat.”

When
she held it out to him, his hands brushed over hers and lingered.
 
“Thanks.”

“You’re
welcome.”

Both
hesitated and then he slung the jacket over one shoulder.
  
“See you later.”

“Bye.”

When
he still didn’t turn around to walk out the door, Gracie wondered, but only for
a few seconds.
 
“I shouldn’t do this,”
Dev said.
 
“But I can’t stop myself.”

His
mouth came down on hers, soft this time and sweet.
 
None of his earlier ferocity lingered as he
kissed her with an aching tenderness.
 
He
caressed her lips with his, first light as fine early morning clouds, then with
the heat of summer sunshine.
 
His gentle
kiss burned into her consciousness with more firepower than his earlier effort
and meant more.
 

The
first smooch brought a wild, earthy passion, but this time, Gracie’s emotions
stirred.
 
Dev evoked the feelings she
already possessed, a thirst for him combined with an overwhelming desire to
take care of him.
 
She wanted to hold him
in her arms and kiss away all the old hurts, soothe his troubled spirit and keep
him close.
 

Too
soon, Dev ended the kiss.
 
He stepped
back with a smile bright enough to illuminate his eyes.
 
“Now I can go,” he said. “Good night,
Gracie.”

Resisting
the urge to hang onto his jacket and hold him in place, to ask him to stay the
night, she nodded. “Good night, Dev.”

He
responded with a quick nod,
then
he reached over to
tuck a stray curl behind her ear.
 
As he
leaned close, he whispered in her ear.
 
“You’re amazing, Gracie.”

Before
she could speak or respond, he opened the door and stepped out into the tiny
upstairs landing.
 
With a wave, Dev
headed down the stairs at a fast pace, his boots banging each stair with a
sound reminding her of a bass drum.
 
Gracie shut the door when he reached the bottom.

With
speed, she dashed to the window overlooking the street, doused the lamp and
watched as Devlin climbed onto his bike.
 
He didn’t hurry.
  
First he
fastened his helmet in place then fired the engine.
 
When he took off down the street, he glanced
upward as if he knew she’d be there and waved one more time.

Gracie
didn’t move until the sound of his bike blended into the other night noises,
the distant wails of ambulances and other traffic sounds.
 
Then she picked up their dirty coffee cups
and carried them to the kitchen.
  
Half a
pot of coffee remained, but she unplugged the pot and emptied it.
 
Her hands worked by memory, mind free to
ponder Devlin, a man like no other she’d met.
 
As she fixed the pot for the morning, washed their few dishes, she
thought about him and wondered.

As
she moved through the steps of her pre-bed routines, Gracie smelled the faint
remnants of his male musk.
 
Her lips
seemed sore and she plastered them with lip balm.
 
Most nights she took a shower, fast and
efficient, but tonight, dreamy and full of Devlin, she longed for a relaxing
bath.

Warm
water splashed into the deep tub, one of the apartment’s best perks, as she
disrobed.
 
Gracie added some lavender
bath salts,
then
climbed into the bath.
 
She let the water run high enough to cover
almost all of her body then slumped until nothing but her head and neck
remained dry.
 
The calming scent combined
with the soothing warmth of the water removed some of her emotional
confusion.
 
Her thoughts drifted, focused
on Devlin.
 

As
her mind replayed his face again, she focused on the strength she saw
there.
 
Trouble dogged him, too, and she
thought maybe his memories of Iraq were anything but positive.
 
His nickname bothered her. Devil, he’d said
they called him, devil because he did evil things.
 
Gracie couldn’t imagine the man she spent the
evening with doing anything bad or terrible, but there must be some
justification for the name.

She
wondered what his first name might be and tried several on for size.
 
Nothing seemed to fit.
 
Dev didn’t seem like a Tyler or an Alan or a
Rick.
  
David wasn’t right and neither
was Will.
 
She almost went to sleep
pondering it all, but she roused herself, dried, and slipped her nightgown over
her head.
 
In bed, she thought she
wouldn’t sleep, but she did. She was out within a short time and didn’t wake
until her shrill discount store alarm clock roused her from a dream.

Although
she couldn’t remember any details, she retained a sense Devlin was in it, and
as she made coffee and ate some toast, Gracie tried to recall without
success.
 

At
ten minutes before eight, she gathered up her books, thrust them into her
battered knapsack, and headed for her first class.
 
Two morning classes today and then she’d
catch a bus to work until the book store closed at ten.