Every Heartbeat After

Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Kit

Her laughter plagues my every waking thought for the rest of the day, which in all fairness, there aren’t a lot of. I doze intermittently in the recliner in my living room, not even bothering with the bed. It’ll take days for my sleep schedule to recover. I’m not as quick to bounce back as I was in my twenties, something that pains me to admit, almost as much as sleeping in this chair does.

The sun is setting on the other side of my blinds, painting my pathetically barren living room in an odd light. My ex made our house in Colorado Springs a home. I, on the other hand, suck at nesting. Even two years after moving here, I’ve not managed much more than a gaming system beneath the television and a side table for the recliner.

It feels a lot like holding my breath, though I have no clue what for.

As I blink into the settling twilight that leaks through my blinds, Tess’s laughter fades into something else. My ears ring with her bright tone when Zoey apologized for the asinine comment about Gary being a father to the fatherless. Everything I’ve been trained for tells me Tess was covering the truth with too much positivity. One glance at her face when she turned to watch me approach—tense at the corners of an otherwise magnificent smile, green eyes hardened to jade river rocks—and I knew she was compensating for something.

Zo mentioned she’d been through a lot, and if my suspicions are correct, then saying so was short selling it. I picture my father, probably posted up in a La-Z-Boy none too different than this one. No matter how many years have passed since we shared a beer over an Ole Miss game, the idea of burying him hits me square in the chest. “ Fuck, ” I mutter. No wonder this weekend is so important to Tess. If she’s lost her father, finding an uncle would be all the more meaningful.

Pain shoots up my back as I rise from the chair and stretch my spine. I stop the dryer mid-tumble and retrieve a clean T-shirt that I pull over my head. The fridge is disappointingly barren. I scrub a hand through my hair. There’s only one fast food joint in Loveless, right on the outskirts of town. Looks like no matter how much I’d rather not, I’m hitting the road again tonight.

Part of me hopes going for a drive will help rid my thoughts of Tess at last. And it does, at first. Until I’m meandering home with a vanilla milkshake in hand and spot a tall, blonde figure in a sundress making her way down the quiet sidewalk along Main Street.

Against my better judgment, I pull onto the wrong side of the road and roll down my window. Snarky, offhand flirtations are usually my forte. But suddenly I can’t think of a thing to say beyond, “Need a lift?”

She startles. When she glances over at me, her gaze appears red-rimmed in the streetlamp’s glow. The vise of my ribs clamps tight around my lungs. I stop the slow roll of the car. She stumbles forward a few steps, then stops, turns around, and walks back to my window.

“You realize I’m only a block away from the motel, right?” She jerks her head in the direction she was walking. “I can literally see it from here.”

Whatever sadness drove her nearly to tears, there’s no trace of it in her voice. And I thought I was a good performer.

I press my lips together and lift my brows. Who am I to blow her cover? If she doesn’t want to talk about it, I won’t be the one to bring it up. “Just trying to be a gentleman.”

She laughs, and it’s more genuine than anything I’ve heard from her today.

“That’s the Southern upbringing in you. Thought it would’ve died off by now.” She bends at the waist, arms crossed over her chest, to peer into my vehicle. I’ve abandoned the cruiser in favor of my new Hellcat, an investment that was mostly wasted since I hardly ever drive it anywhere. The corner of her mouth ticks upward, and I feel the overwhelming urge to kiss her right at its bend. “Is that a milkshake?”

Not what I was expecting her to say. I glance down at the cupholder. “Yes?”

“What flavor?”

“Are you shopping or judging?”

She laughs again. It’s by far my favorite prize. I’d exchange every medal I earned in the Air Force for its weight in Tess Monroe’s laughter. “You can tell a lot about a man by his taste in milkshake flavors.”

I grimace, letting my head fall back against the seat dramatically. “Now feels like a terrible time to mention it’s vanilla.”

Her spine straightens, and she throws her head back, shoulders shaking as she really gives the laughter her all. I force myself to hold my position, but inside my heart beats rapid-fire. The wind presses her dress against her body. She’s all curved silhouette, long, golden legs, and shoulder-length blonde hair whipping in the breeze. I’m nothing but tense muscles, with a hard-on pressing into gym shorts that don’t do enough to obscure it.

So of course, that’s when she accepts my offer.

“Only if you’ll share the rest of the milkshake,” she says.

I shift in my seat, sending up a prayer for the first time in forever just to ask God to hide my boner. “Not afraid of cooties?”

She shrugs. “Not yours, anyway.”

As she passes in front of my headlights, the wind picks up, nearly losing her the coverage of her skirt. I’m completely enraptured, most likely drooling, when she makes it to the passenger side and steps in.

The space around us is suddenly too small, with not enough air. I roll down the passenger window too, creating a cross breeze that carries the scent of sunscreen from her skin. Before I’ve even crossed back over to the correct side of an otherwise empty street, she’s wrapping her lips around the straw of my milkshake and hollowing out her cheeks.

I’m gonna get blacklisted for the content of my prayers.

She smacks her lips softly and hums her satisfaction, lifting the cup in her hand to study it like it’s an ancient tome rather than a fast-food beverage. Gold rings decorate each finger, some stacked three high and others adorned with gemstones in various shades of blue. “Not bad for vanilla.”

“Vanilla is a wonderful, versatile flavor,” I utter through a tense throat.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch her smirk. “Spoken like someone who hasn’t branched out with his flavors enough.”

“I’ll have you know that I’ve sampled many a flavor, thank you very much.”

“Oh, I’ve heard. Your reputation precedes you, Kit Llewellyn.”

Fucking Zoey, I swear to God. The Horseshoe Inn appears on our left, but I’m not about to leave this conversation where it’s at. “Permission to keep driving so I have time to defend my honor?”

“Permission granted.” She offers the milkshake to me, and I take a sip, forcing myself not to consider the overlap of our lips on the straw. “Though there’s no need to defend yourself. I don’t believe in shaming others for their sampling of the sundae bar, you know?”

I relax a smidge. I don’t know why I even care. My ex and I started dating when we were only twenty, but in the years since our divorce, I’ve made no secret of my sampling as Tess calls it. It’s not like that with her, though. And for some reason I want her to know I see her differently, even if I don’t fully understand it myself.

“Good to know.” It’s dark out, the only light in the cab coming from my muted radio. I turn onto the county highway that’ll carry us to the next town over. She doesn’t complain, just goes on sipping. And I can’t get her lips out of my mind for the life of me. If I’m going to have any hope of playing it cool, we’ve got to change the subject. “What’s your favorite ice cream flavor?”

She quirks a brow. “Is that a euphemism?”

“No!” I shoot her a stunned glance. Mischief glints in her gaze. She’s fucking with me. “Were you specifically sent to torture me?”

Her facial features still. When she speaks again, her voice is low. “Am I? Torturing you?”

I swallow. Something like pleading laces her tone. I recognize it as the same kind I keep buried deep inside, the one that wants someone, anyone to tell me that my company’s worth keeping. Why does it feel so close to the surface tonight?

“Not at all.”

She sighs. I’m not sure if she’s satisfied or has just decided she doesn’t want to continue down this path in conversation. Either way, she leans back against her seat and shifts her gaze toward the darkened window. “Where are we headed?”

The road races from the darkness into the path of my headlights, only to be eaten up by my tires a moment later. “Nowhere in particular.”

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“Not really, no.” I scratch the scruff forming along my jaw. I keep a shadow, but this is more midnight than five-o’clock. “How’d things go today with Gary?”

“Really good. It’s been so great getting to know him. And everyone else.” She takes another sip of the milkshake, and it hits the bottom of the cup. I glance over and she meets my gaze with one of embarrassment. “Oops. I think I finished your shake.”

I pluck the empty cup from her hand and deposit it in the holder. “Somehow I’ll forgive you.”

She fans a hand over her heart. “Oh thank God. I wouldn’t be able to face you again if you didn’t.”

“Afraid of conflict?” I ask, but really I’m thinking, Will we see each other again?

“Afraid of being labeled an ice cream bandit.”

I chuckle at that, and it unravels some of the knot tying my throat. “You’re definitely an ice cream bandit. Who likes vanilla, no less. What does that say about you?”

She straightens in her seat. I feel more than see her gaze when it settles on me. “That I’m wonderful and versatile. Or so I’ve been told.”

I shake my head, and she giggles, the same trill that’s been replaying in my thoughts all day. I suck on my teeth, recentering my focus. “You never said what your favorite was.”

“Mint chocolate chip. You?”

“Pecan praline. What does that say about me?”

“That you’re into nuts,” she deadpans.

I make a U-turn on the empty highway, aiming back toward Loveless. “Bad news for you, huh?”

She snaps her fingers. “The good ones are always gay.”

This woman is going to be the death of me. I steer the conversation back to safer ground, the opposite of the direction I’m used to going. “Tell me more about your time with Gary. I know he was really excited for you to come out here.”

She’s silent for so long that I’m beginning to wonder if she’s going to answer. I remember the haze in her eyes when I first pulled up alongside her, and nerves pinch my stomach. Clearly something upset her, and I’m suddenly worried I’ve dredged it all up again.

“It was really wonderful.” Her voice is soft as wild heather. Faraway. I find myself shifting closer to the center console, closer to her, in order to hear better. “I needed this, you know. To get away. Be with family.”

Her mouth warms the word so much it melts on her tongue. It softens something in me, where I’ve remained solid as stone for years. “Does your family not live close?”

She shakes her head. I can hear the swish of her hair on her shoulders. “They’re all gone.”

All of them? I want to ask. But that would make me the biggest asshole on the planet, when the topic is clearly painful. Instead I reach for her knee without thinking and give it a squeeze. “I’m sorry.”

She braces her elbow on the center console and balances her chin in her palm. She’s so close I can feel her breath on my neck when she peers up at me. “Do you go home often?”

I shake my head, trying with everything I’ve got to ignore the heat building beneath my skin. “Practically never.”

“Do you not get time off with the sheriff’s department?”

“I haven’t taken a vacation in years.” It’s a nonanswer, but I’m hoping she takes it.

The lights of Loveless grow brighter. We pass the road that leads to my house. I consider turning. Offering her a drink. But then I remember my pathetic bachelor setup and think better of it.

I want to be good enough for her, I realize. For anyone, just this once.

“Really? I go on a trip every May. There’s this resort, the Carmen, about an hour over the Florida state line. I’ve been going since I was a little girl.” Her smile is sad, her voice somber. “Always in the first two weeks, before a lot of the schools up north let out but after the water is warm enough to swim.” She lifts off her chin, and for a moment I think she’s going to move away. I’m already grieving the loss when she reaches for my hair and runs a hand through it. “It’s your hair that smells so good, isn’t it?”

A half smile is all I can manage, because my every thought, every nerve is focused on her hand in my hair. On wondering how it’d feel for her to tighten her fist and pull.

I turn onto Main Street, once again bearing down on the end of our night, though I never want it to come. “You like it?”

She draws in a breath and closes her eyes. “Mmm, yes. Smells like driftwood. Love it.”

Her words cut through me like lightning. I blow out a breath just to release some of the intensity.

For a man who’d never consider himself a prude, I’m finding myself as horny as a fucking teenager where Tess is concerned. The most innocent touch has my insides in knots. And despite everything I’ve told myself about leaving her alone, it’s beginning to be really fucking hard not to pull over and haul her into my lap.

Does she want that, too? Or is it simply wishful thinking?

“Do you go on your own? To the Carmen, I mean.” I force my voice to remain casual while trying to suss out if there’s someone waiting for her back home. I won’t even consider going down this road if there is.

Her hand retreats as I pull into the parking lot of the motel. Marcy’s shut down the office. A few lights glow behind various room curtains, mostly on the second floor, but it’s largely quiet. Not the fanciest place—I’ve had more than a few calls to the Horseshoe for drug activity—but also the only option in Loveless, really. This time I have to fight the urge to invite Tess back to my place, not for sexual reasons but simply to know she’s somewhere safe.

“Yeah, I go alone. It’s a peaceful place. My little escape from the world.”

That same raw tone fills her voice and strikes a chord in me. “I could use some peace,” I sigh more than say. I put the car in park along one side of the U-shaped building, hoping it’s the side she’s staying on. When I turn to face her, she’s watching me thoughtfully. It’s so much worse than when I was driving. Seeing her like this, wavy hair windblown and lips pursed, sends my thoughts in a dangerous direction. My brain empties, till the only thing I can think of is wanting to taste her. “Maybe I’ll check it out sometime.”

“If you come in May, I’ll be there.”

I lift an eyebrow. “Is that an invitation?”

She laughs, green eyes glittering like jewels in the shadows. “If you want it to be.”

Images of Tess swimming in the ocean fill my thoughts. Tess sunbathing poolside. Tess laid out on a white comforter, wearing tan lines and not much else. I nod like it’s no big deal, though my erection claims otherwise.

Her chin juts toward the motel. “I better head inside. I’m having breakfast with Gary before Zoey takes me to the airport tomorrow.”

“You’re leaving already?” Am I pouting? This feels a lot like pouting.

“Yeah, just a quick trip. I’ll be back eventually, though.” A brief smile, then she’s reaching for her seat belt. “Unless you tell everyone I steal ice cream. Then I’ll have to go into hiding.”

“Your secret dies with me.” I draw an X over my heart, which pounds through my chest. “Can I walk you to your door?”

“There’s that Southern charm.” She winks. “I thought you’d never ask.”

The night air is cool against my skin. As always in Colorado, the temps drop the moment the sun dips below the mountain peaks. By morning we’ll all be sweating again.

And Tess will be on her way home. Why does that thought feel like a physical blow?

I covertly tuck myself into my waistband before rounding the hood of the car. Tess meets me in the middle, looping her arm through mine like it’s the thousandth time instead of the first.

I’m on fire everywhere she touches me. She’s tall, but I’m taller. From my vantage point, I can see the cowlick on the crown of her head. The slope of her shoulder, which is freckled from the sunshine. Darkness pools between her breasts where her dress cuts into a V, and I look away the minute I realize she’s not wearing any bra that I can see.

“This is me,” she says, pointing to the farthest door from the office on the first floor.

I could kill Marcy Evans. “Could you be in a less safe room?”

She turns to me, already laughing. “Don’t worry. I’m a kickboxing instructor, remember?”

I clench my jaw, scanning the row of rooms between her and my car. Only one light is on in the rooms on this level, and there’s no movement to be seen. Still, I don’t love the idea of leaving her here.

“Hey.” She tugs on my T-shirt, drawing my attention back to her. “I appreciate the concern, but I’ll be okay.”

“If you say so.” But I’m already planning on checking the property before leaving, just to be sure. As sure as I can be, anyway.

“I do. Say so, that is.” Tess tilts her chin up. Her gaze dances over my face before settling on my mouth. My breath hitches.

Yellow light from a nearby streetlamp casts her features in an otherworldly glow. She smells like sunscreen and sugar. Like an addiction and salvation in one. We’re so close I’m certain the wild thrum of my heartbeat must be audible. The effect she has on me is that palpable.

I’m on the edge of a very thin rope, barely listening to the voice in my head that tells me this is a bad idea when her tongue glances over her full bottom lip, testing my control.

One touch. How much harm could it really do? I raise my hand slowly, like she’s a cornered animal and I only want to offer her safety. She doesn’t blink. Doesn’t breathe. I brush the backs of my fingers over her cheek, from apple to hollow to jaw. Soft. So fucking soft.

She sinks into it, and that is my final undoing.

“I’m going to kiss you, Tess.” My voice is all rasp. Desire has scraped my throat raw.

Her heavy gaze locks with mine. “That a threat or a promise?”

I don’t honor that with a response. Instead I tangle my hands in her hair the way I’ve wanted to since the moment I laid eyes on her. She surges upward at the same time I lean in. When we meet in the middle, the taste of vanilla floods my senses, and plain is the last word I’d use to describe it.

Our tongues brush, and she gasps. I take the opportunity to delve deeper, go harder, exploring until I find what makes her go wild. I drag my teeth over her bottom lip, and she throws her arms around my shoulders, clinging to me like I’ll escape somehow otherwise.

Except I couldn’t, even if I wanted to. I’m too damn caught up in this woman. A fact that’ll scare me shitless in the morning, I have no doubt.

I back her into the door of her room and lift, hooking her legs around my hips. Her breasts are soft against my chest, nipples pebbled tight. I no longer care to hide my erection. I hope she feels how hard she makes me. When I roll my hips forward, testing her, her moan is everything I could hope for.

I slip a hand beneath her dress and find lacy underwear cupping her ass. In a stolen moment meant for gasping in air, I meet her gaze with a question in mine.

I watch her come to her senses in real time. I only wish I could say the same for myself.

“You should go,” she whispers, our mouths still so close that her exhale is my inhale.

“Are you sure?” I ask, but I already know. A thousand thoughts glow in the emerald depths of her eyes, but they all lead to one conclusion.

It takes every ounce of strength I have to lock down my raging desire. To lower her to the ground. Straighten her dress. Retrieve her purse from where she dropped it on the ground and pluck her key from the outside pocket, then reach around her to insert it into the door. I push it open behind her, and hold. We’re still so close that her heaving breaths brush her breasts against me. So close that the uncertainty coming off her in waves tastes bitter on my tongue.

She steps backward, once and then again until the doorknob is stolen from my grasp and she’s half-hidden in the shadow of her dark room. A look of shock is frozen on her face. Shock at herself? At me? I have no clue. All I know is that I should’ve shown more restraint. I shouldn’t have pulled over on the sidewalk.

Somehow I can’t bring myself to regret all those shouldn’ts.

“Good night, Tess.” I grab her doorknob once she’s safely inside. “If you want…next time you’re in town…” I press my lips together. She’s stone-still. Expressionless. I nod, leaving my words where they lie. “Sleep well.”

I close the door and walk back to my car, which I drive around the perimeter of the property before leaving, even if leaving is the last thing I want to do. I might as well be on duty for the night, because I don’t rest until the sun rises and exhaustion sweeps over me, finally drowning out thoughts of Tess’s mouth on mine.