Locked and Loaded (Bullet, #6) (8 page)

She didn’t laugh this time.  He saw her swallow before she pursed her lips and grabbed the glass of water in front of her.  “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

He needed to push forward.  “Why wouldn’t it be, Jen?  We know each other like the back of our hands and I’m still as attracted to you as ever.”

She looked down at the table.  “We’ve both changed so much.”

Maybe a little—but she made it sound like they’d both done one-eighties.  She was lying to him and herself if she really believed that.  “Change is inevitable, babe, but I think you’re exaggerating.”

She opened her mouth, acting like she was going to say something, and then she finally brought the glass up to her lips and sipped, and it seemed like an eternity as she took down one small swallow after another.  He started finding it distracting, because watching her throat move brought him straight back to his original suggestion.

When she set the glass back on the table, she said, “I can’t speak to your situation, Zane, but I can tell you about
mine
...and
I
have changed a lot.”

Zane blinked and shook his head.  This—yes, what he was about to say—would likely drive them to a full-blown argument, just like the good old days, but he couldn’t
not
say anything.  “Really?”  She raised her eyebrows in challenge.  “Seriously, Jen?  You think that?  First off, just looking at your outward appearance, you still have that gorgeous long blonde hair.  You’re not old and wrinkly.  You haven’t gotten fat or hairy and you don’t have a bunch of moles growing out of your face.”  Instead of smiling at his joke, Jennifer’s brow knotted further and her frown deepened...but he wasn’t done, not by a long shot.  “You’re still amazingly beautiful and hot and sexy—and I still want you.  But let’s talk instead about where most real change happens, and that’s inside.  Are you really so different?  Do you have different values?  Have you flipped your ideas and beliefs about the world?  I’m calling bullshit right now.  You still enjoy and love the same things you used to.  You’re still bullheaded but sweet.  I bet you still love kitten pictures and the sound of thunderstorms.  I know you still have a great sense of humor and strong work ethic.  Tell me what’s changed so damn much about you, Jennifer, that you feel like we shouldn’t spend more time together.”

She was looking at him with eyes wide open, and he couldn’t quite read her.  She looked a little pissed, yeah, nothing new—and, frankly, something that turned him on and would until the fighting became incessant.  But there was also something else there, something he couldn’t pinpoint.  “I don’t know that I’m ready to tell you any of that, Zane.  Maybe that’s part of what’s changed about me too—I’m not as open as I used to be.”

“I think that’s normal, Jen.  We tend to pull more into ourselves as we grow.”  Well, it was that way with him.  When he thought back over how open and honest the two of them used to be with each other compared to all the shit he hid from her now—well, maybe it
was
night and day.  He knew from past experience that he couldn’t just tell her anything.  She’d lose her shit and likely just not get it.  It wasn’t worth the drama that followed.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to be with her or near her.  It didn’t mean he didn’t want to spend time with her or reignite what had once been.

Instead, it meant he was guarding himself.  And he had every right to do so.

She shrugged.  “Maybe.”

“So what do you say?  Let’s blow this joint and spend more time together.  Maybe we’ve changed a lot, but how are we going to get to know each other as we are now if we decide to call it quits again?”

Jennifer blinked and he couldn’t quite read the expression on her face.  “Are you saying...you want to try again?”

He paused.  He wasn’t sure that that had been what he’d been saying, but why the hell not?  He knew he loved this woman, loved her more than anything else on the planet—knew she was more important to him than any other damned thing had been in his life.  “Yeah, I am.  We should.”  He still couldn’t read her, couldn’t see through the mask she’d been wearing since she’d been back in his life.

She smiled sweetly then and placed her hand on his.  “Okay.”

He swore he could feel his heart swell in his chest, and that one little word made his world feel a whole lot better.

––––––––

“O
HHHHH.  OH, GOD, Zane.  Oh, God.  Oh, God.  Ohhhhhh.

“Mmmmmm.”

“See?  What did I tell you?”

“Yeah, I...know.”

“I know you said you loved sex no matter what, but if someone’s doing it right, there’s a prize at the end.  Like
that
.”

“A big, happy, amazing, mind-blowing prize.  Holy crap.”

“Exactly.”

“Mmm.”

“Are you ready?  I really want to feel you wrapped around me now.”

“You kidding?  I feel like a warm ball of putty.  You can do anything you want to me, sweetheart.”

“I...I love you, Jen.”

“I love you, too.”

Jennifer couldn’t believe she was doing it.  She was doing it.  But at least she’d been halfway—
halfway
—smart about it.  Zane had tried to talk her into going to his place in his car, but no way.  Jennifer needed a way to escape at any moment, any time, and she didn’t want to be at his mercy.  At this point, she had no doubt that everything would be okay...but she didn’t want to take any chances.  Yeah, she still cared for Zane very much and felt hopeful that maybe
this
time would be different from all the others.  Maybe this time they would work.

Their past track record told her things
wouldn’t
work...but that didn’t mean they couldn’t try.

Still—caution was key.

Zane didn’t live where he used to, and before they left the restaurant, he’d warned her of that and told her to call him if they got separated in traffic.  He lived in Thornton now, a suburb north of downtown, but he’d lived in Denver the last time they’d seen each other.  And, when she’d discovered she was pregnant, she’d made sure to avoid any and all places she knew he’d ever frequented.  The pressure was off once he was working on his side project’s album and touring, but before that, she needed to be careful.  She hadn’t wanted him involved in the pregnancy for more reasons than she would have wanted to throw at him.

It was easy following him on the interstate and up the off ramp and even once they were on the main drag.  She started getting nervous when he turned off onto a side street, but it was actually easier following him then instead of in the heavier traffic.

It grew really dark as they drove farther off the beaten path and she could see (or rather
not
see) wide open spaces off to one side, and that was when Zane turned on his blinker, signaling to her that they were taking a right.

So it wasn’t a gated community, but it was definitely a posh development, an exclusive and expensive one—it didn’t take Jennifer’s college education to tell her that.  The folks here had the kind of money she could never even dream of having, unless, by some miracle, she won the lottery.

After zigzagging through several winding streets, Zane pulled into the driveway beside a hulking three-story home.  The area was lit well enough that Jennifer could see the front—she guessed she could call it a
yard
, but it was larger than what most people would consider one—was lush and well-maintained, and Jennifer couldn’t imagine Zane doing yard work, even though she could remember him telling her he had to do it all as a kid because he was the only boy in the house.  He was the one running the lawnmower, trimming hedges, and pulling weeds.  Maybe he did now, too.  Maybe it was therapeutic, but it was so huge and she knew Zane was gone a lot, so she was pretty sure he had some help.

It was beautiful...breathtaking...and intimidating.

Zane drove his car up to the huge garage and then stopped, and Jennifer pulled her car next to his, although she could have parked behind his car and still left plenty of room for more.  She wasn’t thinking, though, instead worried about finding her way out of here when it was time to leave.  She had to hope that the maps app on her phone worked.  She’d had a few times where the directions had been wrong and she’d been lost, thanks to the stupid thing, so she was paranoid.

What was the worst that could happen?  It was like a corn maze, right?  It might take some time, but if she drove through enough, she’d eventually have to find her way out.  She had plenty of gas to try.

The problem was that most of the homes looked eerily identical.  It looked like they might have been painted in different colors, but the design was the same.  She supposed that, for those whose minds preferred the simplicity of matching design, it could be calming, but Jennifer disliked it.  There was nothing unique about each home.  The only thing that appeared to differentiate one from the other was the landscaping.  And, while the homes were aesthetically pleasing, she couldn’t appreciate the fact that they all looked the same.  It was like walking down a grocery store aisle full of canned goods—unless you scrutinized them, they all looked virtually the same.

No, not true.  There
was
more variety in the supermarket—different pictures, brand names, etc.  Color would not be enough to make these homes stand out, and she was pretty sure they were all the same color or damn close.  People this anal about their living situations wouldn’t go for an exterior color that was red or purple or robin’s egg blue.  Nope.  She imagined beige, gray, rust, and other earthy tones.

Again, nothing wrong with that, but when they were all the same...

Jennifer was stepping out of her car, realizing she was harshly judging all the people living in this neighborhood, and she didn’t even know a single one of them, other than Zane.  And, of all the things she thought about Zane, his lacking creativity was not one of them.  She knew a lot of people thought bassists were relatively unimportant in the grand scheme of things where bands were concerned, but she knew better.  Most of her knowledge of bassists and their importance came from Zane, who had her watch several Primus videos.  “If you ever think a bass player is a nobody, watch Les Claypool,” he said.  “The dude’s amazing.”

She knew how important Zane was to Fully Automatic.  He was by no means the lead of the band like Claypool was for Primus, but she could hear his contributions.  He added a richness to their music that blended in instead of standing out, but the band’s music would be weaker without him.  There was no denying it.

All those thoughts were swimming and melding in her head as Zane walked over to her, and in the dim illumination from various lights, Jennifer could see the young man she’d fallen in love with years ago, the guy who was, unbeknownst to him, the father of her child, the man who had stolen her heart and made it impossible for her to love anyone else.  Sure, in the abstract, she believed she could fall in love again, but it hadn’t happened yet.  There had been no man to sweep her off her feet, to make her feel passion and pleasure and devotion like Zane had.  Even when he infuriated her, she could feel a fire burning inside for him.

And she knew that was why she had followed him home, in spite of her better judgment.  As always, she wanted and needed him.

He placed his hand on the small of her back to lead her up towards the front door.  “After you, milady.”

Jennifer smiled and shook her head but her focus was on his hand.  It still felt as good as it always had...like it belonged on her.

She kept her voice quiet, even though it wasn’t even ten o’clock on a weekend night, because some of the homes around them didn’t have lights on and the neighborhood was eerily silent.  It made her feel self-conscious.  “When did you move here, Zane?”

“Couple of years ago.  All the other guys in the band had houses and kept calling me
Ghetto Boy
because I still lived in the same shitty apartment I had since we first broke big.”  He shrugged.  “It was time.”

He opened the door and held it for Jennifer to walk in.  There was already a dim light on just past the foyer and, once he locked the door behind them, he touched her back again and led her inside.  She was feeling more comfortable now and decided to tease him.  “Zane Carson.  I don’t know that I’ve ever seen you do something due to peer pressure.”

He chuckled.  “Yeah.  I was pressured into buying a home.  Holy shit.”

She didn’t know that Zane had ever been pressured into doing anything.  He’d been a street kid and, if anyone was the bad influence, it would have been Zane.  But he was also a good guy underneath it all, something he didn’t let the world see.  She’d seen it many times, though, and she figured it was because he’d vowed to never be like his dad.  Zane had been the one protecting his mom and sisters near the end, and he’d made it his life’s mission to be a good guy.

It had been a struggle, because he might have been good to the rest of the world, but she knew he wasn’t so good to himself—and sometimes the shrapnel got in the people he loved.  And, in the past, every time she would bring up the subject, Zane refused to talk about it. 
Off limits
, he’d say, as though she’d thrown a ball out of bounds and the game was over.  She’d learned early on that she couldn’t talk to him about himself and how to make himself happy.  He would become like a statue—frozen expression and no more talk.  They’d even fought over that on occasion, but she learned not to press him there.  It was like an open wound that she was poking.  He wasn’t ready, and she didn’t know that he ever would be.

She laughed at his joke but her breath was taken away.  The sterile exterior of his house hadn’t prepared her for the inside.  It was huge—vaulted ceilings and hundreds of square feet in front of her—and beautiful.  She was pretty sure her whole damned apartment would fit in the great room.

It was simple—some furniture situated around a large fireplace that was as much art as function, and the wall directly in front of them only went up so high and didn’t touch the ceiling, so light from another room was spilling into it, making it seem warm and homey without being harsh.  She couldn’t quite tell what the artwork on the walls depicted, but there were some vases on pedestals on the other side of the room as well.  Not only was the room clean and open but it was tasteful.