Chapter 30
CHAPTER THIRTY
Keira
Living and training with Dean was a wholly different experience now that we were lovers.
Mornings started off with kisses and caresses in bed.
Smiling and flirting as we made coffee together.
Dean finally let the sunnier side of his personality show through after it was absent for so long.
I loved how he would sneak up and hug me from behind as I poured my cereal, as if he couldn’t stand not to be touching me.
Dean was still serious about getting out early to complete our drills and training, but sometimes I succeeded in distracting him. Like when I sank to my knees in the kitchen and sucked him off until he shouted and came hard down my throat. No more teasing like that first day.
Or when I worked him up so much he set me on the kitchen counter, tugged off my sweatpants, and licked and sucked my clit until I was a rambling mess. Other times, he bent me over that counter and slid his thick cock into me, pumping until an intense orgasm left me gasping.
But we always got outside eventually, where Dean ran the obstacle course. I pushed myself a little harder each day too. As soon as the three-month mark since the attack passed, I started practicing with my service weapon on the outdoor range we’d set up.
No, my doctor hadn’t technically given the okay yet, but I felt strong. I was ready. Each day, I warmed up my shoulder carefully and kept the targets close, using lower-recoil ammo.
After a few days of watching my progress, Dean brought his handguns out of their case and joined in the daily target practice. He didn’t say a word about it, but I could tell it was a big deal for him. Firing a gun again after so many years.
But it was just practice. Not firing at a person. Still in loophole territory.
Some afternoons, Dean showed me knife techniques for hand-to-hand combat, though we couldn’t spar full-out.
I was relieved to feel more like myself again, brushing up on the skills I would eventually need to go back on patrol.
I hadn’t been cleared to return to duty, of course.
Except on a desk, which I’d been able to avoid so far.
I much preferred spending my days with Dean.
“Are you ever going to show me how to shoot this thing?” I asked one afternoon in the sniper’s nest.
Because as much as I loved being here with him, being anywhere with Dean, this aspect of my training had completely stalled. I had a long way to go before I could handle firing the rifle myself because of the level of recoil. Even I wasn’t stubborn enough to risk re-fracturing my collarbone.
But I could learn a lot from seeing him do it. I didn’t understand his reticence. Probably because he wouldn’t talk to me about it.
“Soon,” he said. Same thing he always said. “You’ve got plenty of room to improve on ranging and target ID, and a dozen other things that don’t involve firing.”
I held back my grumbling.
Dean turned his head to look at me. “The problem is, halfway through any lesson I try to give you, you start kissing the teacher.”
“Me? Who was just grabbing my ass like five minutes ago when I was making a wind call?”
“You have to learn to ignore distractions.”
Pushing into Dean, I rolled him half onto his back and draped my leg over him. It wasn’t easy in the narrow depression we were in. But he went willingly, laughing as I kissed him. We were all tangled limbs and heavy breathing and heat. The butt of the rifle bumped me.
His hard cock was bumping me too, through the stiff canvas of his cargo pants, but there wasn’t enough room to get too vigorous in here. After a couple of minutes, our kisses slowed, turning softer and sweeter.
It made me think of the way he’d fucked me from behind in bed last night, rough and raw and dirty, then traced soft patterns on my back with his fingertips until we both fell asleep. How could those hands be so lethal and yet so gentle?
Sharing a bed with Dean every night was an indulgence. One I never wanted to end, though of course it would eventually.
“Since we’re distracted anyway,” Dean said, “I was thinking we should do something else the rest of the afternoon.”
“Like what?”
“Been a while since we’ve gone into town, except just to get groceries.”
I reached up to run my palm over his lightly stubbled cheek. “What should we do?”
“How about some clothes shopping? I saw you looking in a store window the last time we were down for groceries. That place with the dresses.”
“Okaaay.” I dragged the word out. “You really want to do that? Shop for clothes?”
He shrugged. “Not like I mind it. Especially when it’s for you. And I want to take you out to dinner afterward. There’s a new place that just opened on Main Street, right? Looked nice.”
The light was too dim in here to see his expression well, and what I could see gave little away. But my heart was thumping a fast rhythm, lurching up into my throat.
It almost sounded like he was asking me on a date. A very boyfriend-y date.
Even though we were sleeping together, the whole dating part was still a cover story, and it had been working well enough without us making appearances at romantic restaurants.
That brunch with my mom and Stephie had been awful. Pretending to have everything I wanted when I didn’t.
Now, Dean and I were sort of together for real. I loved what we shared. Kissing him and getting to explore his body and sleeping next to him at night. But wouldn’t a romantic dinner be even worse now? It would just emphasize the fact that our “relationship” was a lie. We had no future.
“I don’t know,” I said hesitantly.
“You deserve something special. You’ve been cooped up here with me for weeks. We haven’t learned anything new about Woodson or Crosshairs in a while. I know you’re frustrated.”
His fingers touched my chin and moved up the side of my face, like he was trying to map out my bone structure. To see me better, even though it was dark.
“Let me do this for you,” he murmured.
My heart was in so much trouble. Dean was going to leave again, and the poor, battered muscle in my chest was going to get torn to shreds.
“Okay,” I choked out.
If he’d already ruined me for anyone else, why not enjoy every last bit of Dean that I could get?
Hartley’s Main Street was bustling that afternoon. It seemed like everyone was out to relish the summer sun. Some kids ran past us with ice cream cones, and there was a pick-up game of soccer in the park as we passed.
“That boutique you like is up this way, isn’t it?” Dean asked.
“Yeah. Next block.”
Dean held my hand as we walked, and his thumb traced lazy circles on my palm. We looked like any other couple enjoying the day together. The thought made my chest ache.
I’d taken extra care styling my curls into a loose braid, draping it over my shoulder, and I’d worn a cute pair of shorts, a stylish top, and sandals. A little dressier than my usual, even though this wasn’t really a date. It was… I didn’t know what it was.
Dean and I had grabbed dinner together countless times as friends. But he’d never been holding my hand or possessively touching my back.
I hadn’t known what his kisses tasted like or that sexy, growly grunt he made when he first pushed his cock inside me.
The bell chimed as we stepped into the boutique, and the shop owner looked up from behind the counter, her mouth forming a shocked O shape.
“Keira! Just imagine seeing you here today. And you’ve brought Dean with you? What a treat! Looking for anything special?”
“Hi, Lorraine,” I said. “Just doing some browsing.”
Lorraine had lived in Hartley since forever, but the boutique was a new venture after getting divorced. She’d gotten a makeover too, complete with pink-dyed hair and a little butterfly tattoo on her shoulder.
Lorraine came around the counter, her flowing caftan trailing behind her. “How are you feeling these days, hon? Back on duty soon? We’ll have to get used to calling you Deputy Marsh again.”
I shrugged. “I’m feeling all right. But I’m not back at work just yet.”
“Well, I’m sure you’re enjoying your time off.” With a knowing smirk, Lorraine pointed a pink fingernail at Dean. “Your man might like to know about our new jewelry collection. Is that why you came in today? Shopping for a gift?”
Tensing my jaw, I grabbed Dean’s arm and tugged him toward the dress racks. “Actually, my man was going to help me pick a new dress. He has some strong opinions on fashion.”
“Do I?” he muttered.
“This was your idea.”
While I sorted through a rack of sundresses, Dean kept glancing back. “Lorraine’s staring at us,” he whispered.
“She’s just curious.” She’d probably heard all about Dean and me and helped spread those rumors around too. But she meant well.
After all, Dean and I were the ones lying to everybody. We’d wanted people to talk.
“Did you hear those people gossiping behind us in the grocery line last week?” Dean asked under his breath. He was standing right behind me, murmuring into my ear. “They said Lorraine bagged herself a younger boyfriend. The new mail carrier. He’s not a day over fifty-two, so they say.”
“Stop it.” I elbowed Dean’s stomach, snickering.
“Ow! I’m impressed, that’s all. Go, Lorraine.”
I turned my head and kissed him, both of us grinning. It was such a simple moment, so normal, and I could almost believe it was real. That we could really have this. Braving the small-town gossip together, shopping, just living.
“Aren’t you two precious!” Lorraine gushed. “Now that’s what true love looks like.”
I broke away from Dean, blinking. His blue eyes were wide, radiating discomfort. Which told me everything I needed to know about Dean’s opinion of the L word.
I’d been in love with Dean for years, but he was never going to love me back. He was never going to stay. A few weeks of hot sex had not changed that basic truth.
Why did it hurt so much when I’d always known it?