Deeper Than The Ocean by Julie Ann Walker

 

 

Chapter 18

 

11:41 AM…

 

“I’m okay. Really,” Chrissy hissed, hot on Wolf’s heels as he shepherded the trio of local ladies toward the front door, “you don’t have to do this.”

“Yeah, darlin’, I do,” he insisted from the corner of his mouth. “You look like a glass factory that’s been hit by a tornado.”

“Wow.” She stopped and frowned. “You sure know how to pump up a gal’s ego.”

“Please,” he scoffed, pressing a hand against Judy’s back when she tried to stop alongside Chrissy. Romeo and Mia had left for the airport. Officer Ryan was happily ensconced in a chair on the front porch with a bowl of peach cobbler. If Wolf could get gone The Three Middle-Aged Amigas, Chrissy could finally catch the break she deserved. “We both know you don’t have a problem in the ego department.” He gently cupped Janice’s elbow when she swerved toward the short hallway that led to the bedroom and bathroom. “But when it comes to the knowin’ when you’ve had enough department? Not to put too fine a point on it, but you ain’t got the good sense God gave a goose.”

Chrissy harrumphed loudly, and he could feel her staring daggers at his back as he gently—but firmly—shoved the J-Name Gang out the door.

“I swear.” Jill turned to glare at him. “You are the bossiest man I have ever met. And if I thought you were acting this way for any other reason than because you’re worried for Chrissy, I’d punch you in the pecker.”

He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. She thought he was bossy? Hello, Pot. My name is Kettle.

“Thanks for stoppin’ by, ladies.” His words were as cordial as a Baptist minister at a church picnic, but he hoped they could hear the underlying warning in his tone.

“I think that’s our cue,” Janice stage-whispered to Jill.

“Our cue was when he unceremoniously shoved us out the door.” Jill frowned ferociously, trying to intimidate him.

Thing was, Wolf wasn’t easily intimidated.

This apparently pleased Jill, because her expression melted into a smile. Pinching his cheek as if he were a toddler instead of a full-grown man who towered over her by at least five inches, she told him, “Good man. You planning on hanging around to help her today?”

“I need to run a quick errand,” he admitted. “After that, I’ll be on hand until she kicks me out.”

“Which might be sooner rather than later if you keep treating my guests this way!” Chrissy groused from the middle of the living room, where she stood with her legs spread and one hand planted firmly on her hip, Wonder Woman style.

All she was missing was the cape.

And the armored bustier.

She would look amazing in an armored bustier.

“You know”—Jill peered around Wolf’s shoulder—“a smart woman knows to accept a helping hand when it’s extended her way. Especially when it’s such a handsome helping hand.”

“Thank you, Jill,” he whispered conspiratorially. “That’s what I told her.”

Jill gave him a wink then cupped her friends’ elbows in her palms. “Come on, gals. Our work here is done, and we’ve got businesses to run.”

Wolf gave Officer Ryan a two-finger salute when he stuck his head out the door. He waited until the ladies had made it safely down the porch steps before ducking back inside and closing out the world beyond. When he turned, it was to see Chrissy puffed up like the peacocks his grandmother kept in the front yard of her farmhouse for bug control.

Sighing deeply, he readied himself to receive a good old-fashioned tongue-lashing. But all the fight suddenly drained out of her, and her shoulders drooped like they were weighed down by sixty-ton Abrams tanks.

“I feel like a can of smashed assholes,” she admitted weakly. Her eyes got huge when he’d marched over and grabbed her hand. “What are you doing?”

“I’m takin’ you to bed.” He ignored the thrill he got from saying those words.

Before he got any deeper into her—and heaven help him, he was already in way over his head—he had to figure out what her not wanting to fall in love meant.

Part of him wondered if it was simply self-preservation, a knee-jerk response to all the heartache she’d seen her mother suffer. But another part of him knew she had the stubbornness of a mule, and if she’d convinced herself she wasn’t going to fall in love, she wouldn’t.

Could he settle for that? Find contentment there?

Let’s say he convinced her to take a chance on him. Let’s say it was five years down the road and they were married, shared a house, and had a few kids. Would he be satisfied with the thought that if he gave her the life she wanted, if he walked beside her as her friend and confidant and lover, her love for him would grow? Like mushrooms in the dirt? Moss on a stone? Slime on a swamp log?

Hell no!I’ve waited thirty-four years for the right woman to come along, and I want the whole kit and caboodle!

He wanted hot and heavy. He wanted wicked and wonderful. He wanted that heady rush of two people tumbling together, head over heels, and then catching each other before they hit the ground.

He wanted moonlit walks on the beach followed by sweaty lovemaking between the sheets. He wanted candlelight and roses. He wanted picnics and sunsets. He wanted to pull her behind a tree in a crowded park and kiss her senseless because he couldn’t stand another moment without having his lips on hers. He wanted her to roll her eyes at having to watch another cop show, but snuggle in next to him on the sofa all the same.

He wanted his own true love story, damnit!

And yet, as he dragged her down the hall, her hand nestled so perfectly inside his, he couldn’t help thinking he might be plumb crazy to consider anything that didn’t get him her in the end.

“I need a bath.” Her voice was heavy with exhaustion.

“What you need is sleep.”

“Fine.” She sighed and he would swear he could feel her warm breath on the back of his neck. “So I want a bath. Is that okay with you? Is me wanting a bath enough?”

A brief image of her naked, skin all rosy and slick from the water, skated through his mind. It was followed by a sudden heaviness behind his fly.

He wasn’t a complete creep, so he ignored both things as he changed direction, pulling her into the small bathroom with its vanity, tub/shower combo, and floor tiles in pretty greens and blues that reminded him of sea glass. “Sit down before you fall down.” He pointed to the closed toilet lid.

She lifted an eyebrow at his imperious command.

The military had honed many of his natural qualities. Confidence, determination, and stamina, to name a few. But it might’ve done him a disservice when it came to the more subtle side of social situations. He’d learned to forgo politeness for proficiency.

“Christina”—he made sure his tone was obliging—“why don’t you sit down and take a load off while I run you a bath?”

Her gas tank might be empty, but her sense of humor remained intact. “Thank you for asking so nicely, Wolf.” Her mouth curved into a teasing smile as she primly arranged herself atop the toilet. “Don’t mind if I do.”

He turned on the water, adjusted the temperature, and then hitched his chin toward the shirt she wore. “You’re goin’ to need help with that top.”

Thanks to the sling and bandaging, Chrissy had needed the nurse’s assistance getting into the scrubs top. It stood to reason she’d need some help coming out.

“Wow,” she said dryly. “I’ve had men come up with some pretty bad lines while attempting to get me out of my clothes, but that might be the worst one yet.”

“Like I said, the best lines are less about seduction and more about statin’ your offer straight out.” He lowered his chin and gave her his most provocative look. “If I was tryin’ to get you naked, I’d have said somethin’ along the lines of, ‘Christina, you gorgeous thing, why don’t you let me take off your clothes and then kiss every new inch of you once it’s exposed?’”

He was teasing. Except the instant the words were out of his mouth, they didn’t feel like a joke.

“I wish I had a pithy reply, but you just melted my brain.” She lifted a hand to dab at the side of her face. “Is it leaking out of my ears?”

He laughed. God love the woman. Never once had she tried to act like they didn’t have explosive chemistry. She simply chose to ignore it.

“Meltin’ your brain was my intention.” He looked pointedly at the scrubs top. “Now…that shirt?”

She curled her upper lip. “It hurt like hell getting it on. I can’t imagine trying to take it off.”

“We could cut it,” he suggested and watched her face brighten.

“Scissors are in the knife block in the kitchen.”

He headed for the door, but then hesitated. “One thing before I go.”

Curiosity had her eyebrows arching.

“You want to enlighten me on the difference between a good guy and a nice guy?”

“Is that what’s been bugging you?” She shook her head. “I’ve been wondering.”

“It’s one of the things,” he admitted evasively. “So? What’s the difference?”

“Look.” She shrugged. “Neither of them is bad, okay? I want to start by saying that.”

It never boded well for the person listening when the person talking felt the need to preface a statement.

“A nice guy is someone who’s polite and treats the women he dates well,” she explained and he relaxed. “A good guy is someone who cares about the women he dates, and he goes out of his way to show he cares.”

So much for relaxing. Someone inserted a steel rod in his spine. “You don’t think I cared about you when we were datin’?”

She couldn’t hold his gaze and let her eyes fall to a piece of lint stuck to her knee. “Were we ever dating, Wolf?”

“I thought so. Or, at least, I thought we were gettin’ there in an awful big hurry.”

Now she met his gaze. He would swear he saw a shadow of That Night in her eyes.

“Then I…” She lifted her hand and let it fall. “I don’t understand why— No.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s water under the bridge, and it’s better if we row as fast as we can in the opposite direction.”

He wasn’t sure how he got there, but he found himself sitting opposite her on the lip of the tub. The sound of the running water was loud in the little bathroom. He switched it off. He didn’t want to miss a single word out of her mouth.

“It’s not water under the bridge, Chrissy. Tell me what you were about to say. Ask me the question you stopped yourself from askin’.”

She fiddled with the lint on her knee for a second longer. Then, finally, “Why didn’t you come say hello to me that night?” There was confusion—and hurt, damnit there was hurt—in her eyes. “I mean, I get you were on a date with Anna, but—”

“Who?” he interrupted.

“Anna?”

“Was that her name? I’d forgotten.”

“You… You’d forgotten?” Her voice became shrill.

He lifted a hand. “I mean, it wasn’t a date. I’d just met her. Right then. Right when I walked in and saw you with—”

“My cousin.”

If his mind had been an old CD, it would’ve skipped. “Who?”

“Well…” She screwed up her face. “Our grandmothers were sisters. I think that technically makes Sean my second cousin, but I’ve never understood that once or twice removed thing. Could he be my first cousin once removed?”

“Wait a minute.” A terrible sense of oh-shit began swirling in his stomach. “That was your cousin?”

He thought back to the blond god who’d had a possessive hand resting against the small of her back. To the way the man had smiled at her with such blatant sexual appreciation in his eyes.

Or had Wolf mistaken possessiveness for familiarity? Sexual appreciation for familial affection?

“Fuck!” He stood and ran an agitated hand through his hair. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!

Chrissy frowned up him. “I wanted to introduce you two. That’s why I followed you to the back of the bar. I was going to tell you that you didn’t need to avoid me because you were there on a date and—”

“It wasn’t a date.”

When Chrissy snapped her mouth shut and gave him a quelling look, he realized repeating the phrase only made him sound like more of an asshole than he already was. Which was saying something since he currently claimed the title: King of Asshole Mountain.

He hated it when Romeo was right.

“I’m the biggest idiot on the planet,” he said as much to himself as to her, marveling at what a gargantuan, monstrous, we’re talking stupendous goat rodeo of a clusterfuck That Night had been.

When he didn’t continue, she mistook his pause as an invitation for her to contradict him. She did the opposite. “You’ll get no argument from me there.”

God, I love her brass.

I love her.

And he’d screwed things up so much worse than he’d imagined.

“Christina…” He knelt in front of her, grabbing her hand and holding it between both of his own. She blinked at him in surprise. “I—” he began and then stopped, the scar near his temple pulling tight when he clenched his jaw.

How the hell did he explain his behavior that night?

“If you want to be trusted, be honest.” It was one of his grandmother’s favorite quotes.

Okay, Elisi. Here goes nothin’.

“I’ve never…been jealous a day in my life,” he began slowly, trying to put his complete and utter misjudgment and subsequent assholery into some context. “But I was absolutely green with it when I walked into the bar and saw you out with another man.”

A line formed between her eyebrows. “You—you were jealous?”

“Eaten up with it. Which is why I started flirtin’ with the first woman who came up to me. And, yes, before you say anything, I know how immature that sounds. I admit it. But I couldn’t stop myself. I wasn’t thinking. I was simply actin’ on…well… I guess it was hurt pride. Enter the redhead.”

“Anna.”

“Right.”

She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “Why were you so jealous?”

“You’re kiddin’, right?”

She shook her head, and he blew out a breath. “Look, darlin’, it isn’t advertised on Navy recruitment posters, but the military isn’t above usin’ drugs to give their fighters the upper hand in combat. Various psychoactive pharmaceuticals are employed to suppress hunger, lengthen wakefulness, improve reflexes, etcetera. But nothin’ I ever took on a mission gave me the high I felt when I was around you. You made me feel alive like nothin’ else could. I was crazy about you, Chrissy. Still am. In fact, I—”

The words—the words—were perched on the tip of his tongue. But they refused to budge. It was like they were set in place with grappling hooks.

“In fact,” he said slowly so he could change directions, “I was so crazy when I saw that blond behemoth bend down and whisper in your ear, I did the first thing that came to mind. I told Anna to meet me in the storage closet.”

Chrissy blinked at him uncomprehendingly.

Scrubbing a hand over his face, he groaned. “I wish there was a way I could explain this so I don’t come off like a total dickwad, but I was bein’ a total dickwad. So I’m goin’ to shoot you straight and hope you find it in your heart not to hold one really, really bad decision against me.”

She nodded, but didn’t say anything.

He desperately wished she’d say something. Anything. A biting remark. An acerbic retort. Something to let him know what she was thinking. But for the first time in their acquaintance, she seemed perfectly happy letting him keep the conversational baton in hand.

“I wanted to run away, but I thought that’d be cowardly. So… I invited Anna to meet me in at the back of the bar. I reckoned I could kill two birds with one stone. I’d no longer have to watch you and your date canoodlin’ and I…” He winced. “I’d provide myself a little distraction.”

When Chrissy finally spoke, each word was a Tyson Fury haymaker straight to his solar plexus. “What a bunch of horseshit. You didn’t invite Anna to that storage closet because you thought that was better than simply leaving the bar. You invited her back there because you were jealous and you hoped to make me jealous too.”

He swallowed uncomfortably. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right.”

“And you claim to be a good guy? You claim to care about me?” Two red flags flew in her cheeks, and he hated that he’d upset her. Again.

“I got no excuse.” His throat was raw, which made his voice sound like ten miles of bad country road. “My only explanation is, like I said, I’d never felt that way before. I didn’t have the first clue how to handle it. But please know, darlin’, I know better now. It’ll never happen again. And I’m so sorry—”

“Spare me another apology.” She stood from the toilet, nearly knocking him on his ass in the process.

“Christina…” He scrambled to his feet, grabbing her wrist to stop her from leaving the bathroom. “Please, I—”

“Do you have any idea how much you humiliated me?” Her eyes blazed with blue flames. “I didn’t like seeing you with that woman, but I told myself, It’s okay, Chrissy. He hasn’t done anything wrong. Suck it up and act like a grownup. And so I followed you thinking I’d convince you to bring your date over so you could meet my cousin—”

He opened his mouth but snapped it shut again when she pointed a finger in his face and snarled, “And if you tell me it wasn’t a date one more time, so help me, I’m going to punch you in the dick.”

Twice in one mornin’ I’ve been threatened with that,he thought wretchedly. I’m winnin’ big today.

“And then when I stepped into the storage closet and you started kissing me, I actually thought, See? It is me he wants. And I was happy,Wolf. Happy. And then you called me Anna and I knew it was her you wanted.”

His mind drifted back in time…

The storage closet was as dark as pitch and smelled of spilled beer and wet wood. The sounds of the band playing a Jimmy Buffet cover were muted, which allowed him to hear the heavy thud of his own heart.

The organ wasn’t beating with anticipation for the redhead’s imminent arrival, however. Its rhythm was one of hurt. Of confusion.

How could he have been so wrong? How could he have misread all the signs?

Sure, he hadn’t even stolen a kiss from Chrissy, but there’d been so much banter. So much flirting. So much…chemistry.

They were supposed to have their first date the very next night. Although, they’d agreed they’d known each other long enough that it didn’t feel like a first date. More like a third or fourth date. Which made it that much more momentous. More special.

That’s why he’d had Romeo fly him to Key West a day early. He wanted to buy some decent clothes. Tank tops and swim trunks weren’t going to cut it for a night out with the incomparable Christina Szarek. He wanted to look good for her. He wanted to impress her. He wanted…her.

All of her. Her mind. Her body. Her smiles. Her sarcastic conversational volleys.

He wanted her like he’d never wanted another woman.

But apparently, she wanted some big blond dude with a jaw that would make Henry Cavill weep with envy.

He’d thought he and Chrissy were on the same page. The we’re-goin’-to-give-this-thing-between-us-a-fair-shot-and-see-where-it-takes-us page. But, hell, after what he saw out in the bar, he knew they weren’t even reading the same damned book and—

“Wolf?” A lilting female voice sounded from the hall a second before the door opened and a hand stole inside, fumbling for the switch on the wall.

He didn’t want any light. He liked the dark. Liked that he could pretend anything he wanted when he couldn’t see what was in front of his face.

And pretend he did.

He dragged the redhead into the closet with him and asked desperately, “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” Her answer was unhesitating.

Pinning her against the closed door and claiming her mouth, he pretended she was someone else altogether. He pretended they were Chrissy’s lips he laved and sucked. He pretended they were Chrissy’s moans he drank into the back of his throat. He pretended it was Chrissy’s curves that met his desperately searching fingers.

“Wolf!” His name was breathed into the darkness when he let the redhead up for air.

He almost said “Christina” in response. The name filled his mouth, sweet and gossamer like cotton candy at a county fair. But at the last second, he remembered it wasn’t Chrissy in the closet with him. It was the woman he’d been fiercely flirting with for the last thirty minutes.

What’s her name again?

Then, he remembered.

“Anna.”

“What?” That one word was so strident it nearly pierced his eardrums.

The overhead light blazed on, and he blinked against its sudden brightness. His jaw fell open when it wasn’t the redhead’s green eyes that filled his vision, but Chrissy’s blue ones.

“You are such an asshole!” she snarled before throwing open the door and running out of the closet.

“Christina!” he yelled, hesitating only a few seconds before following her. But she was fast, and a few seconds head start was all she needed. By the time he made it to the main area of the bar, he saw her dragging the blond out the back.

“Hey!” The redhead snagged his arm. “Sorry I kept you waiting. I got stopped by a friend and—”

“Excuse me for a second,” he interrupted and hightailed it toward the marina. By the time his flip-flops hit the boards of the dock, Chrissy and her companion were nowhere to be found.

Wolf shook his head now. “It was you I wanted, Chrissy. It’s always been you. It always will be you.”

Angry breathing had made her chest work like bellows. Now, it stilled. “What are you saying?” She eyed him uncertainly.

“I’m sayin’—” He stopped, unable or unwilling—he wasn’t sure which anymore—to spit out the thing that was right there. Instead, he went with, “I want to kiss you.”

A scowl slammed her eyebrows together. “What?”

“I have to kiss you, Chrissy.”

“Are you crazy? Why would I—”

“That’s the favor,” he cut in. “I’m claimin’ it now. I want to kiss you.” He’d run out of words to convince her That Night had been a mistake of epic proportions. The only thing he knew to do now was show her.

Show her what they’d been missing. Show her how it could be between them. Show her how sorry he was and how much he cared. “One kiss. That’s all I’m askin’. And then, if you want, you can punch me in the dick after.”

“Now you’re talking.”

Even with his heart hammering against his ribs and his future happiness on the line, she still found a way to make him smile.

“Is that a yes?” He dared to hope.

She pursed her lips. “I guess it has to be, right? I promised you one favor, and if I told you no,I’d be going back on my word. I never go back on my word.”

“No.” He shook his head. “I want to kiss you, Chrissy. I’m askin’ to kiss you. But I won’t without your consent.”

“Fine.” She rolled her eyes. “I consent. I’m tired of that promise hanging over my head anyway. I’d rather make good on it and be done with it.”

Not much of a ringing endorsement, but he supposed he’d have to settle for it. He took a step toward her, but she lifted a hand. “But you asked to kiss me. That doesn’t mean I have to kiss you back.”

Leave it to her to find the loophole in his plan.

Then again, he wasn’t without his own unique set of skills.

Reaching past her, he carefully shut the door. Then, ever-so-slowly in case she wanted to change her mind, he closed the distance between them.

Her back was flush against the wood panels by the time his thighs brushed hers. Lifting a hand to her face, he curled his fingers around the back of her neck at the same time he rubbed his thumb along the smooth line of her jaw.

Her skin was as soft as silk, as warm as the summer sun.

“All we need to complete the déjà vu is to turn off the light.” There was heaviness in her voice.

That chemistry they’d shared from the beginning was a palpable force. It hummed like electricity in the scant few inches between them. Would there be sparks when he finally pressed his mouth to hers?

“No darkness this time, darlin’.” His voice was so low it was almost a growl. “I want to see every moment. I want to watch what happens when I show you exactly how I feel.”

She tried to roll her eyes, but he stopped her by lowering his mouth to hers.

There weren’t sparks. But he would swear a bolt of lightning sizzled through him.

Lord, how he wanted to pillage and plunder. Just like he’d done in the storage closet. But a woman as beautiful and as sexy as Chrissy was undoubtedly used to men trying to devour her.

He was determined this time would be different.

He would show her he was different.

Brushing his lips slowly back and forth in a featherlight caress, he applied the tiniest bit of pressure. At first, she kept her mouth closed to him, but then a soft sigh escaped.

He drank it in thirstily, like he’d been lost in the desert for days and her sigh was a cup of water. Her warm breath tasted like peach cobbler. Like the salty sea air. Like freedom and fun and all his fantasies rolled into one.

Angling her head slightly, he caught her plump bottom lip between his teeth and sucked it gently. Softly swept it with the tip of his tongue. And then he did the same to her upper lip. Sipping at her. Nibbling at her.

Taking his time.

Showing her there was more to him, more to them,than pheromones and friendship.

Showing her there was tenderness and affection.

Showing her how much he cherished and adored her.

Her hand had landed on his waist the instant his mouth met hers. Now it inched upward, her fingers clutching at his shoulder.

She hadn’t returned his caresses. But neither was she immune. He could feel the tension building in her. Could hear the way her breath caught each time he changed the pressure or the pace of his teasing lips.

Finally, her restraint broke. She made a low, hungry sound before plunging her tongue into his mouth.

It was all the invitation he needed.

Groaning, he delved his tongue inside the warm, wet wonder of her. Meeting her stroke for stroke. Lick for lick. Suck for suck.

Their kisses became a force of nature unto themselves, sweeping them along in their wake until the sexy sounds of two hungry mouths seeking fulfillment echoed around the bathroom.

He tilted his hips forward without thought, his hardness seeking the solace of her feminine softness. But when she lifted a leg, hooking her heel behind his knee, he didn’t register softness. He only registered heat.

The material of the scrubs was thin. No match for the sultry fire at the center of her. And that’s when he lost his damn mind.

Gone were the tender caresses of moments before. Now all he could think about was claiming what was his. Marking her. Taking her. Stealing away any thought she might still harbor that they weren’t made for each other.

Grabbing her waist, he hoisted her atop the vanity and stepped between her spread thighs so he could grind his erection against her.

It was her turn to meet him stroke for stroke. And, dear woman that she was, she did. She swiveled her hips until he saw stars. Ground against him until he felt a hot drop of pre-cum wet the waistband of his boxer briefs.

Somewhere, in the furthest corner of his mind, a voice of reason spoke.

Don’t overdo it,it said. You’ll regret it if you do. She might regret it if you do.

He didn’t listen. He couldn’t. Not when every single one of his senses was completely overwhelmed by the woman in his arms.

His taste buds were alive with the sweet, salty flavor of her. His nose filled with the delicious sunshine, coconut oil, and salty sea spray scent of her. His ears resonated with her throaty moans, with her greedy little sighs. And when he opened his eyes, ever so slightly, his vision filled with the sight of her thick lashes that were dark at their bases but the whitest blond at their tips.

Unfortunately, the voice was a persistent motherfucker. And with each passing second, it grew louder until, eventually, he could no longer ignore it.

Ripping his lips away from Chrissy’s devastatingly talented mouth, he took half a step back. Just enough so he was no longer pressed against that part of her that for months he’d been longing to explore with his hands and mouth and cock.

Her fingers were tangled in his hair. Rapid breaths made her breasts press tight against the fabric of the top, emphasizing the straining hardness of her nipples. But it was her eyes that caught and held him. The swirling, churning ocean blue of them.

He wanted to drown in those eyes. Plunge into their depths and lose himself in them forever. Lose himself in her.

His island girl.

For better or worse—and he feared it would be for the worse—the words that’d been stuck in his mouth slid out before he could stop them. “I’ve fallen in love with you, Christina.”