Chapter Five #2
I smiled against his pec and draped my arm across his abs.
They were tight.
They felt nice.
“How much do you work out?” I asked.
“Enough.”
“Enough for your average shmoe or
enough for a semi-pro middleweight boxer?”
“Classed light heavyweight, Rosie.”
I lifted my head and looked to his face in the moonlight.
“You box?”
“No. But I know the divisions and I’m not middleweight.”
“Oh.”
I saw him grin in the silver beams. “How much you work out?”
“Nine hours a shift.”
He chuckled.
“No, seriously,” I told him.
His fingers started drawing a pattern on my hip. “When you
go back?”
“They told me to call when I’m ready. I think I’ll call
tomorrow.”
“Ribs good enough for that?”
“I’m not supposed to do much to aggravate my torso, so I
won’t be carrying a tray for a while, but they said they’d put me behind the
bar.”
“They like you,” he murmured.
“I’m likable,” I teased.
His hand gripped my hip. “Yeah, you are.”
I settled again into his pec.
“Those ribs, baby, you should sleep on your back,” he noted.
“I’m here, you’re gonna have to
pry me away.”
His body shook gently with his humor but his arm around me
got tighter.
It felt sweet.
“These mattresses are super-comfortable,” I remarked.
“Rosie?” he called.
“Yeah,” I answered.
“You were dead to the world and barely able to maneuver the
stairs ten minutes ago.”
“Is that biker speak for you’re tired and want me to shut
up?” I asked.
“Pretty much,” he told me.
I smiled against his pec.
We both fell silent and it was Snap that broke it.
He did it careful. He did it gentle.
He did it Snap.
“You scared of bein’ alone,
honey?” he asked.
Man, it was crazy how well he knew me.
“A little,” I whispered.
He gently rolled me toward him so I was more full-frontal
against his side, murmuring, “I got you.”
I closed my eyes tight.
I had not been “got” in a really long time.
I did not want to be one of those women who could not do
without a man.
But I feared I was one of those women who couldn’t do
without a man.
Or, alternately, I lost the man who had me my whole life,
and like Mom said, I’d gone reeling. And at the time when I was ready to
attempt to stand on my own two feet, God had thrown into my path the man who
was perfect for me.
But I was on a long, ugly roll of losing men that meant
something to me. I’d barely survived the most important one.
What would happen if I lost the only one on this earth who
was perfect for me?
“It’s all gonna be good, Rosie,”
he said.
I really wished I could believe he was right.
“Okay, Snapper.”
“Go to sleep,” he ordered.
“All right, honey.”
He drew in a deep breath and let it go.
I kept my eyes closed (I just didn’t do that tight).
It didn’t take long before I fell asleep.
The pain in my ribs drove me to my back in the middle of the
night.
But now, here I was again, tucked to Snapper’s side with his
hand resting on my hip.
“Awake?” Snap asked, his deep voice thick with sleep.
“It’s past dawn,” I told him.
“Yeah,” he agreed.
“And right now I’d totally kiss you if I’d grabbed my
toothbrush last night and wasn’t terrified of morning breath,” I declared.
I just got out the word “breath” before I found myself
hauled full on top of Snapper’s long, lean body and I was looking in Snapper’s
downy-snowy-sleepy eyes.
“I don’t give a fuck about morning breath,” he growled.
So be it.
I tilted my head.
And I kissed him.
Now this…
This…
This was the perfect first kiss.
Both our mouths were open before our lips touched and both
our tongues were out and tangling before our lips settled.
I didn’t know about me but he tasted wet and warm and musky
and I barely had that taste before I wanted more.
So I tilted my head further and gave Snap more in order to
get my more.
I knew he wanted it because he didn’t hesitate to take it.
He also gave it, keeping one arm wrapped firm around my
waist, the other hand trailed up my back, twining in my hair to hold me to his
mouth.
It lasted long and it went deep and every millisecond was a
thing of pure beauty before he gently fisted his fingers in my hair, tugged
back a bit, and pulled his mouth from mine.
“That was fuckin’ spectacular, Rosie, but I gotta ask you to help me out again,” he rumbled.
I’d help him any way he wanted.
“What?” I breathed.
He shifted me on his body so “what” was without a doubt
digging with steely determination into the flesh of my belly.
And “what” felt heavenly.
“Gonna get up and grab a shower,
yeah?” he said. “You snooze. I’ll make you breakfast then I gotta
go.”
Wait.
He was going to…
What?
“Snapper—”
“I want that,” he all but snarled, his eyes suddenly flooded
with heat, which sent a reciprocal wave of the same blazing through me.
Unfortunately (but also amazingly), he kept talking.
“But we’re doin’ this right,
Rosie. We’re talkin’ and we’re gettin’
shit straight because we’re not just doin’ this
right, I’m doin’ you right. For years,
you’ve had a rough ride, what’s happened recently just the most recent. You’ve
been jacked around since your daddy died and I don’t think either man meant to
do you wrong but in the end they did. And I’m the man who’s gonna
do you right, Rosalie. With me, that rough ride is gonna
end, baby. So as much as I want more of what you’re offering, I’ll take it tonight
when we both know where we’re at and I can be assured you’re right there with
me.”
Perfect for me.
I stared into his eyes as I slid my hand up his chest, his
neck, into the bristles on his cheek.
Holding him there, holding his gaze, only then did I
whisper, “Thank you for being you, Snap.”
He made a noise that sounded in my womb before he rolled,
his rock-solid cock now pressed to my hip, his chest looming over me for a
scant second before he laid another wet, hot, crazy-awesome one on me and then
lifted his head to me panting and holding on to his shoulders.
“Stop bein’ you for five seconds
so I can get outta this bed,” he ordered gruffly.
Snapper sounded nice talking gruffly.
But I nearly burst out laughing, contained it and beat back
the snort doing that welled up in me before I asked, “Who do you want me to
be?”
“Someone annoying.”
“Snapper,” I whined dramatically, “you know I don’t like it
when you throw your clothes on the floor.”
“Now you’re bein’ cute and I still
wanna fuck you.”
“I have syphilis,” I lied.
He started laughing.
“And I used to be a man,” I went on.
He started laughing harder.
“A gay man, so we’re good,” I told him.
He laughed even harder.
I slid my hands from his shoulders up to cup his jaw and
said quietly, “I hate to end this goodness because you laughing is a beautiful
thing but I need you to take a shower, have breakfast, and leave me by myself,
because except in my car, I haven’t been alone since it happened and I’ve gotta learn to do that again, hopefully without freaking.”
The laughter vanished and he dipped his face close to me.
“I’ll show you how to use the alarm before I go,” he said.
I nodded.
“And whatever I do today, I’ll do it close so if you get too
freaked, you call me and I can be here fast.”
“Don’t change your—”
“Rosie, that’s just the way it’s gonna
be today and every day until you’re feelin’ good
about things.”
Perfect for me.
I nodded again.
“And I’ll be back tonight around six. I’ll bring dinner.
What do you want?” he asked.
“What are my choices?”
“Any place that does takeaway in the Denver Metro Area.”
“That’s an alarming amount of choice, Snapper Kavanaugh.”
“It’s what you got, Rosalie Holloway.”
“Narrow it down for me, Mulder,” I ordered and the instant I
did, the look in his eyes…
Man.
I’d leap through rings of fire to give him that look again.
He liked we had that. Him my Mulder, me his Scully. He liked
getting it back. He liked that familiarity. That history. That sweetness we
shared, him and me.
Perfect for me.
“Indian or Mexican,” he said softly.
“Indian.”
“You got a favorite?” he asked.
“Butter chicken,” I told him.
“Noted,” he said.
“Or chicken tikka masala,” I shared.
“Right.”
“Or chicken korma,” I said.
“Rosie—”
“Or shrimp biryani. And onion bhaji, mushroom bhaji, tikka
skewers, samosas. Anything with paneer in it. I also like keema. And don’t
forget the pilau rice, naan and papadums.”
I shut up.
Snap stared at me.
I continued to be silent.
“You done?” he asked.
“Aloo gobi,” I said quietly.
He busted out laughing.
He gave me a quick kiss on the lips still doing it, and
continuing to do it, he pulled away and asked, “What do you want me to make you
for breakfast?”
“LaMar’s,” I shared.
He shook his head, still laughing, and also asking, “You got
one or two choices to give me or do I gotta get
through another recitation?”
“Buttermilk glazed or Bavarian cream.”
“Gotcha,” he said, gave me another quick kiss, then rolled
away.
I watched his ass as he got out of bed and I watched a lot
of things as he walked around the end of it to the bathroom, all of them awesome.
Then I lay on my new mattresses (that Snapper gave me) and
looked to the ceiling of my bedroom in my new house (that Snapper gave me).
And I thought, What the hell am I doing?
I knew.
But I didn’t know.
I knew it was right.
And I was terrified it was wrong.
I wanted to grab hold to all that had been given to me (and
my mom) from the instant we walked into this carriage house.
And I felt fear tearing into me that if I did, I’d finally
have it all again.
Which meant having everything to lose…
Again.