Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
The sun had been up for only a few minutes when Angie awakened the following day, wrapped up in Ian’s arms as he spooned her from behind.
Despite his morning hard-on, his shallow breathing and heavy arm around her waist told her he was still sound asleep.
She’d been so exhausted last night and fallen asleep so fast she had no idea when he’d joined her in the big, comfortable bed.
She lay there for a few moments, soaking up his warmth, as everything from the prior day came rushing back to her.
Less than twenty-four hours ago, she’d been doing a job she loved, dating a guy she liked a lot, learning more about herself each day, and being truly happy for the first time in what felt like forever.
Now, she was on the run from people who wanted to kidnap and use her against her best friend, who was incommunicado, while a drug cartel was after him.
Her normal happy life was falling to pieces, and she didn’t know how to stop it.
Although she was working past it, she was still wrestling with the fact Ian had lied to her.
Yes, the anger and hurt were still there, but so was the understanding of why he and Jimmy had done what they did.
Jake had been right—men like her lover and her best friend were wired differently.
They needed to feel needed and protect the people they cared about at all costs, even if she disagreed with how they went about it.
Her bladder began insisting she get up and relieve the building pressure, so she eased away from Ian and climbed out of the bed.
After she finished, she took a quick shower while avoiding getting her hair wet.
Instead of washing it, she put it up in an easy twist with a clip she’d picked up at the store's beauty section.
She pulled on a pair of her new sweatpants and a T-shirt over one of the sports bras, thinking she might take a run later when someone could go with her.
Turning toward the bed, she examined Ian as he continued to sleep, now on his stomach with his hands under his pillow.
His jaw and upper lip had the morning stubble she loved when he rubbed it against her inner thighs while going down on her.
A lock of his hair had fallen onto his forehead, and she fought the urge to put it back in its place.
She didn’t want to wake him, knowing he probably needed the sleep.
The sheet had been pushed down, exposing his muscular back and upper buttocks.
Damn, the man had granite buns she wanted to take a bite out of.
If she stared at him much longer, she would jump his bones, so instead, she searched for her new toothbrush among her toiletries on his dresser.
It was then she noticed he’d found a pair of cotton shorts, which she assumed were Jenn’s, and left them out for her.
No matter what, she had to admit he did show he cared in his own little ways, like making sure she was comfortable and safe and always putting her first. When they had sex, he made certain she was satisfied before he took his own pleasure.
He opened doors for her and held out her chair without a second thought.
At dinner at his place, he’d fill her plate before taking his own meal.
Her wants and needs always seemed to come before his.
And above all, he was jeopardizing his life and his team's lives because hers was in danger. She thought back to what Kristen had said in the ladies’ room at the gala about how Devon made her feel cherished, and Angie realized it was precisely how Ian made her feel.
So what if he wasn’t a flowers and poetry kind of guy?
He may not be a romantic by definition, but she would take being cherished over romance any day.
After brushing her teeth, she grabbed the art pad and sketching pencils she’d found in the craft section of Walmart.
Tip-toeing out of the room, she closed the door behind her.
In the kitchen, she found a Keurig coffee machine and brewed herself a single cup of the Brazilian blend she selected from the carousel next to the machine.
The house was quiet except for the sounds of her coffee cup being filled.
Not wanting to cook so early and wake anybody else up, she picked out a bran muffin from the assorted box of sixteen Jake had left on the counter.
She took it, along with her coffee and art supplies, outside to the front porch.
It was chilly, but she wanted the fresh air, so she placed her things on a small table and returned to retrieve a blanket from the back of the living room couch.
After making herself warm and comfortable in a lounge chair, which gave her a beautiful view of the lake below, she had her simple breakfast and tried not to think about the danger they were all in.
When her muffin was gone, Angie picked up the sketch pad and pulled a pencil out of the package of six. Opening the pad to the first blank page, she let her mind wander as she began to sketch. A little while later, she was startled when she heard a voice behind her. “Wow, that’s me.”
She looked over her shoulder. Jake stood behind her chair, rumpled in a University of Tampa T-shirt and gray sweatpants.
He must’ve just rolled out of bed, and she hadn’t heard him come out the door.
He held a steaming cup of coffee in his hand as he studied the picture of his face she’d drawn from memory.
She didn’t need to confirm his statement since the sketch was close to what a photograph of him might look like.
“Why do I seem so sad? Is that what I look like to you?”
She nodded as he sat in a chair catty-cornered to her and crossed his sneaker-covered feet at the ankles, resting them on the bottom slats of her lounge. “Sometimes. When you think no one is watching, or your mind seems to be somewhere else, you get this sad, faraway look on your face.”
“Huh,” he grunted before taking a sip of his coffee, not contradicting her observations of him.
“So, are you feeling better this morning? Not so stressed out and angry?” He narrowed his eyes and teased her.
“You didn’t murder Ian in his sleep last night or cut off his most prized possession, did you? ”
Laughing, she shook her head. “No, he’s breathing and still has all his man parts, but don’t think I wasn’t tempted a time or two.”
He smiled and remained quiet as she considered his face, then made a few minor changes to the sketch she was still fiddling with. Without thinking, she blurted out, “Do you have a girlfriend?”
“Ha! Uh, no, I don’t, sweetheart.” His amused expression confused her until he added, “I think the more appropriate question would be ‘Do I have a boyfriend?’ and the answer would still be no.” Her mouth gaped, and her cheeks heated, but he didn’t seem fazed by her shock.
“Yes, Angie, I’m gay. And yes, most people know. ”
“Wow.” She shook her head but smiled simultaneously, not wanting him to think she believed there was anything wrong with being gay. “Um, sorry. It’s just the gay guy friends I have aren’t as macho and hunky as you are.” She winced. “That sounded stereotypical, didn’t it?”
He snorted and took another sip from his cup. “Macho and hunky, huh? Yeah, well, that’s the thing about being gay–it doesn’t discriminate. We come in all shapes and sizes.”
She opened her mouth to ask him something but changed her mind and glanced at her sketch.
“Go ahead and ask your question, Angie. I’m not ashamed of who I am.”
Glancing at him, she shrugged her right shoulder.
“I didn’t think you were since you came right out and told me, and you’re not embarrassed about it, which you shouldn’t be.
I just can’t help but think about how you can work with Ian and the rest of them without being attracted to any of them. I mean, you’re all good-looking men.”
Jake nodded in understanding and didn’t give the impression her question put him off.
“I’ll admit I fought a lot of attractions to straight guys throughout my whole career in the Navy—hell, pretty much my whole life—but when it comes to the team, we’ve been together so long that they’ve become my brothers.
I have no more attraction to any of them than I do to my own blood brother, Mike. ”
“When did you realize you were gay?” Her eyes widened at her unintentional bluntness. Her brain-to-mouth filter wasn’t working that early in the morning. “Sorry, that’s way too personal. Don’t answer that.”
“No, it’s fine.” He tilted his head and held her stare. “I like you, Angie, and I’m not like Brody, who makes friends easily wherever he goes, so I hold onto the ones I have. I like to think we’ve become friends in the short time I've known you.”
She gave him a shy smile. “I think we’ve become friends too.”
“Good.” He raised his cup of coffee in a silent toast to their new friendship, then drank what little remained.
“So, in answer to your question, I guess I’ve known since puberty, maybe a little earlier.
Like most gay people, I struggled with it initially because it was out of the norm from how I was raised, especially since my father was a homophobic jackass. ”
Wincing, she asked, “How did he take it when you came out, or haven’t you ever told him?”