Read When You Make It Home Online

Authors: Claire Ashby

When You Make It Home (13 page)

BOOK: When You Make It Home
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“Um… Sorry to intrude.” I took another step back. “I brought you a blanket.”

“Hi. Come over here,” he murmured, his smile sleepy. “It’s okay. Sit with me.” He stretched and tucked his uninjured arm behind his head. “Did I get you in trouble with Steve today?”

“No. Well, maybe a little.” I sat on the floor cross-legged, facing the head of the bed. The moonlight cast an almost magical glow over Theo. If I reached out to touch him, I couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t disappear altogether. He looked like a guardian angel who’d been through battle. Maybe those were the best kind.

“He’s right to be worried,” Theo said. “If I had a sister, I wouldn’t let some chump move in with her.”

“So you admit to being a chump?”

“Nah, I’m harmless.” He stared at me. “We’re friends, right?”

I searched his eyes and felt a connection between us. Had he changed since we first met, or had the change been in me?

“Yes, friends. Are you sure you’re going to be okay here? This setup looks a little not-so-comfy.” I considered my next question and decided Theo appreciated my directness. “Does your leg hurt?”

“Yeah, it does.” He rolled onto his good side, his hand going to the hem of his shorts. “Do you want to see it?” He looked me in the eye as if daring me to say “no.”

I shrugged. “Sure.” Of course I wanted to, especially if he felt confident enough around me to show me what seemed so personal.

He pulled up the edge of his shorts, exposing what was left of his thigh. It was half the length of his other one. He smoothed his hand over the long scar at the end of his stump.

“See these little marks?” He pointed to evenly spaced dots along the pink line. “That’s where they put in staples to hold my skin together.”

My heart ached for the devastation that he’d gone through, although the wound didn’t look as bad as I thought it might—it looked surprisingly healed.

“Usually I wear a special sock to keep the swelling down, but I take it off at night.” The way he handled his leg was intimate, as if he were familiarizing himself with the change.

“You seem to be getting better.”

He straightened his shorts and fell back on the pillow. “I am. Better every day.”

“You know you’re welcome to come sleep in my bed, right?” I raised my shoulders. “As friends of course.”

“No, I’m good. I’m watching the sky.” His eyes were still locked on me.

“Okay, suit yourself. We can go over everything tomorrow.” Once I stood, his hand wrapped around my bare ankle, squeezed, and ran up the back of my leg, palming my calf muscles.

“Goodnight.” I stepped away from him and made a quick path to my bed, where I tossed and turned and twisted in my sheets for hours, thinking about Theo.

“What do you think?”

Theo and I stared at the bare wall, and I tried to imagine the built-in bookshelves he wanted to install. A girl like me could never have too much shelf space.

But Theo’s question sent my brain in the wrong direction. What did I think? I thought he was hot. I thought of how my body tingled and everything seemed to sparkle when he was near me. I thought I was falling hard… fast.

“Meg?” He leaned forward, his smile fading.

“We could buy shelves. That was my plan originally. I love the idea of built-ins, but that’s a lot of work for one person to take on.”

“Whatever you want.” He rubbed the back of his hand across his forehead. “But I’ll have help, so that shouldn’t be the reason you turn me down. We can build the shelves in no time.”

He had a friend, someone to keep him company. That was good; I wouldn’t have to worry about him getting hurt. He was a grown man; he’d made it that far in life without me. “Okay.” I smiled. “Build me some serious shelves. Transform this place. Let it rival the Library of Alexandria.”

I left for ten hours and came home to find his truck backed up to the sidewalk loaded with wood, a lanky guy sitting on the tailgate. Excited to meet Theo’s friend, I went to introduce myself.

“Hello?” I came around the truck. He had thick, dark curls and coffee-colored eyes.

“You must be Meg,” he said, and when his hand came up to shake mine, I would’ve expected more from myself—my reaction should’ve been graceful, but as my palm grazed his prosthetic fingers, I yelped and pulled my hand away.

I pressed my knuckles to my mouth, and my cheeks burned. “Oh, I’m so sorry—I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay.” His hand, a stiff-fingered device and almond colored to match his skin tone, almost passed for real. That’s why I had been startled to feel it. I felt embarrassed. “Happens all the time,” he said with a friendly laugh. “Don’t worry about it.” He raised the prosthetic device, which hummed as it spun in a rotation that no real hand could mimic, and touched the brim of his cap with a slight nod. “I’m Cortez. I’ve heard all about you.”

“Well, you’re ahead of me. Theo’s told me nothing about you. Did you serve together?”

“No, no. We met at physical therapy. I was a medic too.” He held up his fake arm again. “Back when I had a real one of these.”

How do I respond?
“I’m so sorry.”

“Me too. It didn’t work out so well.” Cortez bellowed with laughter and then stilled. “Hey, could you go see what’s taking Theo so long? We got to unload this wood soon, or we’ll be late for poker.”

I found Theo at the breakfast bar, drinking a glass of water with his backpack on his lap.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Did you meet Cortez?” He swiped three pills off the counter, popped them in his mouth, and chugged down the remaining water. The backpack slid from his lap and onto the floor with a thump.

I refilled his water “Yes. So he’s your help?” I hauled his backpack onto the bar, wondering what he stored in there besides his pill collection.

He buried his face in his hands, sighed, and finally looked at me. “Yeah, he’s my help. No worries.”

“No worries,” I reassured him, but I lied. I was plenty worried, and not only about Cortez. How could I not be concerned with the wary, pained look on Theo’s face? Was I kidding myself that I could be something good for Theo?

I cut out of the bookstore early the next day and detoured to stock up on groceries. I also scored a pair of T-bones, potatoes, and salad fixings: dinner for my new roomie. Dressed in a light-blue and white maternity sundress, I practically danced through the store. I looked forward to having someone to go home to. But I wasn’t the only one with a plan. The smell of baking garlic bread hit me before I crossed the threshold.

“Back here,” Theo called from the kitchen.

My mouth watered, and the baby kicked as if to hurry me along.

“Hi.” I placed the groceries on the counter. Theo stood at the oven, stirring a pot of bubbling red sauce that smelled so good my toes curled. “You cook,” I said, surprised.

“I’m not a one-trick pony.” He winked at me. “I have many skills.”

A vase of black-eyed Susans sat in the center of the already set table. That might as well count as him giving me flowers. Yes, I could definitely get used to coming home to him every night. I moved to unload the bags.

“I picked up a few things. I don’t want you and Cortez to go hungry while you work.” Theo didn’t respond. My back was to him as I stocked the shelves of the pantry. “Tomorrow I’ll make dinner.” I half turned to see if he was even listening.

He stood leaning against the counter, one crutch at his side, staring at me. The hungry look in his eye wouldn’t be satisfied with the meal he was making.

“That dress suits you.” His low voice rumbled, his gaze skimming over me. “The truth suits you, too.”

He was right. Somewhere in the process of acknowledging my condition and finally switching to appropriate clothing, I had become proud of my bump. My womanly, fertile figure felt sexy. And I was actually going to be somebody’s mom, which made me love my new shape even more. “Thanks,” I replied. “For everything. You’ve already done so much for me.” I looked out into the living room full of boxes. “I’m ready to make this place a home again. Somewhere I can raise a baby.” We’d only known each other a short time, but already I could open up to him. After being guarded for so long, I was relieved to let go.

“I should be thanking you for letting me move in.” Theo leaned back against the counter and held out a basket to me. “Bread?”

I almost drooled down the front of my dress, and not only because of the fragrant garlic bread. Theo’s broad shoulders, sculptured arms, and chiseled chest were what I really wanted to taste. All that, combined with his relaxed confidence, and I couldn’t suppress the shiver of desire that ran through me. I grabbed for the bread. “Mmm…” I took a bite, and my body relaxed. I kicked off my shoes and hopped up on a kitchen stool. “Having you here is going to work out for the both of us.”

He gave me a big smile, one that lit up his eyes and hit me with a surprising jolt of accomplishment. He turned back to the stove, fished out a strand of spaghetti, and tested its doneness.

I swallowed my last bite of bread and dabbed at my mouth with a napkin.

“Shit!” Theo dropped the pot onto the stove with a scraping bang. Steaming water sloshed over the edge, but he steadied the pot before all the contents spilled. He reeled backwards, flinging off oven mitts and slamming against the cabinets. He braced himself, as his crutch slid out from under him, clattering to the tile.

I leapt up and scurried around the bar. “Here.” I snatched his crutch off the floor and pushed it at him. “Are you okay? Did you get burned?” I reached for his hands, but he flinched.

“I’m fine.” He cleared his throat. “Can you drain the pasta?”

“Sure.” I thought about what the misstep cost him, and my stomach clenched. I picked up the oven mitts and moved the pot of boiling water to the sink to drain. We moved around the kitchen together, careful not to get too close, each lost in thought. By the time we sat down to eat, I had no appetite. I wanted to make everything right, but instead, we ate in silence.

“Dinner was good. Thank you,” I said.

He nodded and placed his napkin to the side of his plate.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Are you?” he replied.

“I’m fine.”

“Me too,” he said, but that hard edge faltered, and his eyes glazed over with unshed tears. I went to him, swiftly moving around the table. Theo’s tense body didn’t budge when I put my arms around him and cradled his head to my chest. I began to fear that I had crossed a line—that I might have been too forward—but then he sighed and pulled me tight to him, one arm locked around my waist. His other hand deftly seized the back of my thigh, hauling me into a straddle on his lap. I was as much aroused as taken aback by his strength. His head came down on my shoulder, and I stroked the back of his neck, kneading his tight muscles while I hugged him. Minutes passed, and then he lifted his head slowly, still nestled to me, the heat of his breath on my neck. I shifted against him, my legs falling open and folding around him. His lips grazed the side of my mouth. My breath caught as he pulled back from me. Theo caressed my cheek with his thumb, his eyes on my mouth.

“Meg, do you want me to kiss you?”

I angled toward him, but he tilted his head.

“Ask me to kiss you. Tell me to.”

“Kiss me,” I whispered. “Please.”

Theo’s lips brushed mine softly at first, and then, with urgency, his mouth took mine. With wet, hot pressure, his tongue parted my lips, sliding sweetly against mine. I moaned into his mouth as our bodies eased together. As his hands gripped my hips, a burning need seared through me. My hips, hitching on his lap, found purchase on his rock-hard erection.
Oh, hell yeah!

“Meg…” Theo let out a low groan. Our bodies aligned perfectly, even with my baby bump nestled against him. His lips were wet, his breath warm on my ear, the drag of his shaven jaw tantalizing as he nuzzled my neck. “This feels good.”

“I’m pregnant,” I whispered.

He smiled playfully, a dangerous look in his eyes. “I know.” His thumb brushed over my shoulder, stopping at the strap of my dress.

“It’s okay.” My breath came quickly. I tugged free of the thin straps on my dress. Theo unhooked the front clasp on my bra, exposing my swollen breasts. His palms rose; he barely touched the rosy peaks of my nipples with his fingertips, and I arched into him, urging him on. He responded by lowering his mouth to a hardened nipple. Everything in me turned liquid and hot. Theo tenderly kissed one breast, suckling it into his mouth while he exquisitely tugged and stroked the other.

BOOK: When You Make It Home
4.61Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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