Deeper Than The Ocean by Julie Ann Walker

 

 

Chapter 20

 

1:13 PM…

 

Rain poured on the island.

The water sluiced down Duval Street, the main strip of raucous bars, tourist shops, and greasy spoons. The gutters and flood grates couldn’t keep up with the deluge, meaning parts of the sidewalks were submerged under a foot of water.

Whereas Wolf’s mood matched the weather, the tourists hopping from placed to place—uncaring that they were getting soaked to the bone—all seemed as gay as a sunny day.

And why shouldn’t they? he thought sourly. I bet they didn’t tell someone they loved them only to be laughed at.

Okay, to be fair Chrissy hadn’t laughed.In fact, there for a second, he’d thought she might cry. And seeing all that emotion in her eyes? Well…it’d given him hope.

Hope that her talk of never wanting to fall in love was simply that. Talk. Hope that, despite herself, the minute he said the words aloud she realized she’d fallen in love with him too. Hope that they could put That Night behind them, forget about past grievances and misunderstandings, and move forward toward a future they both wanted.

So much for hope, he thought bitterly.

Then…like always, his mind filled with the words of another. “Don’t lose hope. When the sun goes down, the stars come out.”

Okay, fine. So he was supposed to suck it up buttercup and persevere.

But how?

Taking a deep breath, he ran through his options, and realized it might have been better if Chrissy had laughed. At least if she’d thought it was a joke, he’d know what to do. Namely, prove to her he was serious.

But she didn’t think he was joking. She simply didn’t believe him.

How in the hell did a person go about changing someone’s beliefs?

Also, let’s say he did somehow come up with a way to make her believe. Then what? He’d still have to convince her he was the “settling down type,” as she called it. And then, if by some miracle he managed to convince her he truly had fallen for her and assure her he was, in fact, the settling down type, there was still before him the gargantuan task of disabusing her stubborn ass of the notion that romantic love could grow without first falling in love.

For fuck’s sake!

His grandmother said he enjoyed a challenge. But this felt less like a challenge and more like he was being punished.

For what, he couldn’t imagine.

He certainly wasn’t a saint—no one in the spec ops community could ever claim that—but neither was he a liar or a cheat or a conman or a thief. He tried to live his life by the six pillars of character he’d learned in school. And he always helped old ladies cross the street!

“Don’t worry. It’ll blow over in an hour.”

He realized he’d been glaring through the taxi’s window at the cloud-filled sky. It made sense the driver assumed he was a tourist concerned about the weather.

Side note: Thank goodness the cab driver who answered his call hadn’t been Chrissy’s friend, ol’ Billy Blue Eyes. That might’ve been enough to send Wolf straight over the edge.

“That’s good,” he said to be cordial, sitting up straighter when the taxi turned down Chrissy’s street. He could see her house two blocks away and was gratified to find Officer Ryan in the same place he’d left him.

That means all is well on the home front.

Home front. Home.

From the moment he met Chrissy, she’d made him feel homesick. But not for a place he’d ever known. Homesick for her.As if his soul had always known she was out there, somewhere, and once he saw her, he realized how much he’d missed her.

He opened the brown paper sack the friendly mechanic at the airport had given him after he walked onto the tarmac looking for Romeo and the Otter. Romeo had gotten out of Key West ahead of the weather, but not before placing the Glock in the bag and giving it to the mechanic to pass on to Wolf.

“It’s that one on the corner,” he told the taxi driver now. “The one with the uniformed officer sittin’ on the porch.”

Any other place and the cabby might’ve asked about the police presence. But if what happened in Vegas stayed in Vegas, then it was safe to say the weird shit a person saw in Key West was standard operating procedure for Key West.

Wolf had once witnessed a man walking down the street wearing nothing but high heels and a feathered headdress. No one had given the guy a second look. Then there was the time two fishing boats collided in the marina. Both captains simply swam to shore, popped the top on a couple of cold ones, and sat in the sand to watch the vessels sink.

Seeing a police officer in a rocking chair likely didn’t even begin to wiggle the cab driver’s antenna.

While the man was distracted with parking the car close to the curb, Wolf covertly transferred the Glock from the bag to the back of his waistband, pulling the hem of his T-shirt over the butt of the weapon.

He wasn’t trying to hide the Glock from Officer Ryan, necessarily. But neither did he want to advertise that he’d feel a lot better being armed should those warehouse assholes try to make another run at Chrissy.

“I got you as close as I could to the front door,” the driver said. “But you’re still going to get drenched.”

Wolf thanked the man and paid him. Then, with a deep breath, he pushed out of the vehicle and raced down the little brick paver path and up the front steps to Chrissy’s house.

The cabby was right. By the time he ducked under the porch’s wide roof, there wasn’t an inch of dry skin left on him. His grandmother referred to this type of rain as a “toad-strangler.”

“You’re wetter than an otter’s pocket,” Officer Ryan observed drolly.

Wolf shook his head like a dog shaking off water. “Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

In the short time it’d taken for the cab to arrive to take him to the airport, the two of them had sat in the rocking chairs and gotten to know each other a bit.

Turned out, Officer Rick Ryan had family in Oklahoma, was an OSU Cowboys fan by association, and had a great sense of humor. The latter of which was why Wolf felt comfortable busting the dude’s balls now.

“They teach those keen observational skills at the police academy, or do you come by them naturally?”

Officer Ryan grinned. “Little of both, I suppose.”

Wolf chuckled and then hitched his chin toward the front door. “Everything okay in there?”

“She’s been as quiet as a church mouse.”

“Thanks for keepin’ watch while I was gone. Can I bring you somethin’? A drink, maybe? I can take over guard duty if you need to hit the head.”

“Nah.” Ryan shook his head. “I’m good for now. But you might check back in an hour or so.”

“Roger that.” Wolf dipped his chin and opened the front door.

The instant he did, the rotten-egg aroma of natural gas hit him in the face.

“What the hell?” he thought he heard Officer Ryan exclaim. He couldn’t be sure since his racing heart roared in his ears. And if that wasn’t enough to impair his hearing, then add to it the sound of his own bellow as he called Chrissy’s name.

He waited a half tick, listening to his voice echo through the empty rooms. When she didn’t answer, fear caught his chest in a bear trap.

Natural gas was incredibly volatile. If it made its way to the pilot light on, say, her water heater or clothes dryer, the whole place could be reduced to a pile of ash quicker than he could spit.

He ran for the kitchen, figuring that was the most likely place to—

Bingo!

A knob on her stove were turned on, but there was no accompanying flame on the burner.

“Jesus Christ!” Officer Ryan skidded to a stop beside him, covering his nose and mouth against the awful fumes.

“Open all the doors and windows!” Wolf yelled, then coughed when the rancid gas filled his lungs. “I have to find Chrissy!”

He didn’t wait to see if the policeman followed his orders. He was already running for the hallway.

“Christina!” He heard the panic in his own voice as he dissolved into another round of coughing. The fumes made his brain throb inside the confines of his skull. His vision swam like the night the Iranian’s bullet had grazed his temple.

Her bedroom door was open, but the bathroom door was shut. He figured he had a fifty-fifty chance and the bathroom was one step closer.

“Chrissy!” he burst into the room without knocking.

If he’d thought he’d been scared when he saw her walking up that dock with blood streaming down her arm, nothing compared to the sheer terror that gripped him when he found her lying in the tub, her head tilted to one side so that her forehead pressed against a shampoo bottle.

“Fuck!” He was on his knees next to her in an instant.

A towel sat on a wicker stool. He threw it on top of her to protect her modesty, and knocked over the teacup perched on the edge of the tub in the process. It hit the floor and shattered, but he barely spared it a glance before threading one arm beneath her legs at the same time he wound the other around her back.

She was limp as a ragdoll when he hoisted her out of the now-tepid bath. The drenched towel and her wet body cascaded water onto the floor. He slipped as he turned toward the door, the tiles squeaking beneath his flip-flops. But somehow he managed to stay on his feet.

At the back of his mind, he registered the air in the bathroom was cleaner than the air in the rest of the house. Thanks to the closed door, no doubt. But it was quickly filling with fumes and there was a motherfucking candle burning on the back of the toilet.

He blew it out on his way through the door. Then he was running for fresh air.

“This way!” Officer Ryan waved him toward the back door, holding it wide.

Wolf wasted no time barreling onto Chrissy’s back patio. The rain, which moments ago had felt warm, now chilled him to the bone.

Or maybe the goose bumps raising the hairs on the back of his neck were due to Chrissy lying lifeless in his arms. Or…not lifeless.

When the fat raindrops hit her face, her brow furrowed. Her eyes scrunched up right along with her mouth. Then she was blinking at him in confusion.

“Wolf?”

“I gotcha, darlin’.” He didn’t slow his pace until he was at her back fence, as far away from the house as he could get. Turning, he pressed his back against the wooden slats, and sank down until his ass was planted on the wet ground and he could cradle her in his arms, rocking slightly. “It’s okay. Everything’s goin’ to be okay.”

She looked down at the towel covering her body. Her chin jerked back.

He tried not to think about her being naked beneath the terry cloth. Tried not to picture her bare butt sitting directly atop his denim-covered cock.

“What’s going on?” Her eyes were the size of the paper targets they’d used when doing small arms training back in BUD/S. “Why are we outside in the rain? And why am I naked?”

“First things first.” He pulled his T-shirt over his head and transferred it over her head. He didn’t bother with her injured arm, letting her keep it close to her body. But he helped her snake her uninjured arm through the sleeve.

Chrissy wasn’t a small woman. But she was a far sight smaller than he was. His shirt swam on her, hitting her mid-thigh and covering up all the parts of her he knew he’d be revisiting in his fantasies. Then he pulled the sopping towel down until it protected her legs against the rain’s continuous onslaught.

The sound of the big, ploppy drops hitting the water of her plunge pool was a dull hum that competed with the harsher, hissing sound as they fell on the palm fronds overhead. He had to raise his voice to be heard above the cacophony.

“How are you feelin’?” He searched her confused eyes. “Are you dizzy? Got a headache? Is there ringin’ in your ears?” His own brain had cleared now that they were in the fresh air.

Her eyelashes were spiky with rainwater. When she blinked, the droplets fell onto her cheeks and slid over her lips.

“I-I’m a little dizzy,” she admitted. “And I’m really groggy, but I think that’s from the pain meds.”

She crossed her arm over her chest, covering the protruding points of her nipples, when Officer Ryan darted through the back door. The policeman looked around, and then headed in their direction once he spotted them through the deluge.

“Got all the doors and windows open,” he huffed from exertion. “And blew out the candle burning on the coffee table.”

“For fuck’s sake.” Wolf fixed a dark stare on the man. “It’s a wonder the whole place didn’t blow.”

“I feel awful.” Ryan squeegee-ed the water off his face only to have it immediately replaced. “I should’ve—”

“No way you could’ve known. I didn’t smell it either until I opened the door.”

The policeman nodded. “Should be safe to go back inside in ten minutes or so. I’ll take up my position on the porch unless y’all need me for anything else.”

“No.” Wolf shook his head. “We’ll hang back here until the fumes dissipate.”

Ryan dipped his chin again, and then turned to Chrissy. “You okay, Miss Szarek?”

“I—” She still looked confused. “I’m okay,” she finally finished.

“Can’t tell you how happy I am to hear that.” Ryan breathed a sigh of relief before turning back toward the house.

Chrissy waited until he disappeared inside before looking at Wolf. Her mouth was open but no words came out.

“A burner on the stove was left on with no flame,” he explained.

She lifted a shaky hand to her forehead. “I-I made myself a cup of tea. But I don’t remember leaving the gas on. Maybe I… Shit!” Shock wallpapered her pale face. “That’s the absolute last time I take one of those pills. I don’t care how much my shoulder hurts. I could’ve killed myself. I could’ve killed you and Officer Ryan!”

He cuddled her close, glad she seemed to suffer no ill effects from exposure to the gas. Glad too she wasn’t fighting to scramble out of his arms. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. It could’ve happened to anyone who’s been through what you’ve been through.”

“No. You saved me. Again.” She looked so beautiful in the rain. Like a water nymph. “Risked your neck to save mine.”

He could have demurred, he supposed. But he wasn’t the demurring kind.

“I reckon if I’m goin’ to die, I’d like to do it with you in my arms. Just like this.”

A shadow of emotion darkened her face. He couldn’t name it. And it was gone so quickly he didn’t have time to study it.

She placed a gentle hand on his jaw, and his breath strangled in his lungs. When her eyes drifted down to his mouth, he felt her gaze like a physical touch.

His lips parted of their own volition and he watched, mesmerized, as her pupils dilated. Then she leaned forward, ever so slowly, and pressed her mouth to his.

He was usually the president and CEO of Careful, Measured Thought. But every reason why he shouldn’t kiss her back leaked from his brain.

Folks liked to say that hope springs eternal? Well, it absolutely leapt inside his chest.

Or maybe that was his wide-open heart.