Take the Fall (Take the Fall, #1)(11)

You’ve moved on. You have a life. Even after prison you have a life, and I’m still here. Still piecing back the fragments of my existence. But I can’t admit that to him. I shrug. “I’m tired.”

He reaches out and I flinch a little. His hand cups my cheek and his thumb begins to rub the top part of my cheek. “You don’t have to be so brave, you know,” he says. “Her death hurt me, too. Yeah, she was suffering, but it still hurt. It hurt us both. I can be here for you, if you let me.”

I don’t move, even as his hand coasts down my cheek to my jaw and then around my neck to rub the sore muscles. My lashes flutter closed in response, but I force them open. Dangerous things happen around Seth and me when I close my eyes.

“Close your eyes,” Seth whispers into my ear. He drags his lips across my jaw and I shiver. I’m lying nude in his bed with his equally naked body covering mine. We’ve never gone this far before, but I love Seth. I want to be with him forever.

I close my eyes and smile. “How’s this?”

“You’re such a very good girl,” he teases, nipping at my throat. His hands cover my breasts and I arch into him. My eyes fly open.

His obsidian gaze is hot. “Close your eyes, or I’ll move my hand.”

“Don’t you dare,” I snap. I squeeze my eyes shut.

“Love you, Rowan, even when you try to be all bossy,” he says with a dark laugh, and then his lips wrap around my hard nipple.

I moan his name.

“Thank you,” he says, pulling me out of my head.

My face heats and my heart races. It’s a damn good thing he can’t read my mind. “For what?”

“For being with her when I couldn’t.”

Unable to withstand the gratefulness in his gaze, I move away from him. My skin is hot and tight, and I can still feel where he touched me. “Leftovers are in the fridge. Nothing’s changed, really, so you should be able to find what you’re looking for.”

Another smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Don’t worry, Rowan, I’ll be gone tomorrow afternoon.”

Pain claws my heart, ripping it to shreds. I can’t deal with him leaving again. It’s stupid and futile. “I’m not worried. Besides, I have to work.”

“I’m spending the night.”

That again. “I don’t think so.”

His smile gives way to a serious frown. “Still my f*cking house. I grew up here, you didn’t,” he reminds me.

“It used to be your house, but you chose to move away. Remember?”

“Yeah, I remember,” he growls and yanks his dog tags out from underneath his shirt and holds them out. “But apparently your memory is shitty, because it was a judge who made me leave.”

Now, this I can handle. Better his anger than his remorse and gratitude. I whirl away and stride to my bedroom, tossing over my shoulder, “Not dealing with your bullshit, O’Connor. Crash in your old room and then be out of here before I get home tomorrow night.”





Chapter 3





Seth


The door slams shut with enough force to rattle the plates in the kitchen cabinets, but I refuse to go after her. I refuse to play her game. She wants me angry. She wants the excuse and justification to keep me at a distance.

When we were younger, she had me wrapped around her little finger. Not exactly a bad thing when the two of you are in love, but the shit she just pulled—I’m not letting her get the upper hand again.

Looks like the enemy wasn’t the only thing the military trained me to battle.

I tuck my tags back into place and run my hands over my face. “She needs more time,” I mutter. It’s been years since I was last civil to her. Her reaction to me won’t change overnight. Hell, it might not ever change, but the more she pushes me away, the more I want to hold on tight.

Exhaling, I move to the living room, plop my ass on the couch, and flip through the stations, finding a repeat of Band of Brothers. Score. And it’s a marathon. Double score. I love this show, and it’s enough of a distraction to keep my mind off of Rowan.

However, there’s still the matter of the envelope Shaw gave me, but I’m not that interested in reading it. Besides, I’m pretty sure he’ll go over the paperwork at our meeting tomorrow.

Pulling out my phone, I text a couple of my buddies and my commanding officer to give him a heads-up of what might be coming, then jump to my feet and stride to the back door. Grabbing my key along the way—just in case Rowan decides to lock my ass out—I head outside to get my duffel bag.

I have time to kill, and it doesn’t look as though Rowan will be joining me again this evening. I haul my bag to my room and toss it on the bed, noting that nothing has changed—same comforter on the bed, same posters on the walls, and same pictures of Rowan and me. Honestly, I’m shocked this proof of our relationship still exists.

Maybe there’s hope for us after all.

—

The next morning, Rowan is gone by the time I wake up. I glance at the clock, surprised at how late it is. Normally, I’m up at five thirty, but today I slept in and it’s almost seven fifteen. There’s a pot of fresh coffee on the counter, and the fridge is fully stocked. I fry up some eggs and bacon while I drink a cup.