A Promise Of Home (A Lake Howling Novel Book 1) (20 page)

“I want to find out who did these things to you and rip them apart.”

The anger inside him hadn’t lessened and she marveled again that it was there because of her.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about the garden; it’s just that I’m not used to doing that…sharing with anyone. I always fight my own battles and you seemed to leave pretty quickly that day after we…” She waved her hand about. “Then, last night you wanted to…” more hand waving, “and I walked away from you.”

“How sorry?”

“Pardon?”

“How sorry are you, Rosebud?” His eyes had changed, something else was there, and she felt her bones turn to liquid as she realized it was lust.

“I-I ah, don’t understand.”

“The only reason I’m not looking at twenty to life right now, after going to your house and beating the tar out of whoever was in there trashing the place, is because I promised you, so I need something else to take the edge off my anger. Neither of us are criers, but we’re both wired. So I’ll say it again, how sorry are you?”

He may be lounging on that wall, but he was tense. Legs braced, arms folded. His shorts hung low on his hips and she saw the ridges of muscle on each side of his stomach disappearing below the waistband. He was sexy, pure and simple, and he should be hanging on a dozen walls for women to ogle. But he wasn’t; he was here and so was she. Messy hair, broad chest, it was a package that would make any woman melt.

“Something happened to your tongue, sweetheart?”

She wanted to run it all over him, starting with the band of hair that rose from his shorts. Heat suddenly pulsed through her veins and her breasts felt heavy as she rose from the seat and dropped the blanket. Branna had never been a femme fatale, never incited a man to unbridled lust, but she wanted Jake to be the first. The aftermath of fear had left her body pulsing with need and, like him, it needed an outlet.

“Those shorts can go first.” His voice was a deep purr of pure sin.

Branna undid the button and slid them slowly down her thighs, then pushed them to the floor and stepped out of them. The long T-shirt hid her white lace panties.

“Shirt now.” The rasp in his voice made her legs turn to liquid. Reaching for the hem, Branna lifted it slowly up her body, amazed at her daring, then pulled it over her head. Throwing it aside, she stood before him in her panties.

“Ah, baby, you are one sexy woman. Now come here and climb all over me.”

She did and all the time his eyes ran over her, hunger in their dark depths. Branna kept walking until her body was pressed to his. She felt how rigid he was holding himself; felt the hard length of him pressed against her stomach. Lifting one hand, she grabbed a handful of his hair and tugged until his mouth met hers.

It was hungry and carnal, and Branna wanted it all; the savage heat and driving need inside him was matched by her own. It drove away thoughts of what those men had done to her house, and what they may have done to her.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He cupped her face.

“Never, you could never hurt me.”

Branna ran her lips over his jaw and down his neck. Her hands kept busy, trailing over his stomach then lower to release the button on his shorts and push them and his underwear down his body. His hands were in her hair and anywhere else he could reach, and she was on fire; her body wet and aching for him. Wrapping her hands around his hot hard length, she stroked him.

“That feels too good.” Closing his eyes as she caressed him, his breathing grew harsh. “I want you so badly right now, Branna. I’m not sure I can wait.”

“Don’t wait, please, Jake, I need you inside me.”

He lifted her into his arms and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her to his room. Laying her on the bed, he stripped off her panties, then lifted her hips and sank deep inside her. It was hard and fast and Branna cried out as ecstasy rolled through her in waves. He let out a long soft moan as she clenched tight around him.

“Last night, I watched you in that flirty little dress and thought about doing this.”

The pressure inside her built as his hand slid to cup one breast, the fingers rolling her nipple.

“I had a long cold shower when I got home, but even that didn’t help.”

He pushed deeper, and Branna arched her back as the ecstasy built.

“Let go, Branna.”

And she did, the pleasure almost too much to bear as it crashed over her, her cries loud and long. He answered after one more thrust, his shout as loud as hers.

Branna fell onto the bed and he followed, his big body blanketing hers as he pressed her into the covers. The only sound in the room was the deep rasps of their breathing. He eased to the side, pulling her back to his front.

Her body felt limp, limbs weak, as she struggled to draw in a deep breath.

“You okay?”

“Da, no.” Branna seemed to have lost the ability to speak.

He snorted into her hair, and then maneuvered them around until they were under the covers. “Sleep now, Rosebud, the morning is soon enough to think about the rest.”

“I lost my ability to think ten minutes ago.”

“Tell me it was longer than ten.” His words tickled her ear.

“Eleven then.”

“My job is done.”

He followed the words with a kiss as he pulled her closer to his naked body.

“I’m a job?”

His hand did a sweep of her front, brushing her nipples and the curve of her hip.

“Your body work is certainly in good shape; I’m just tuning you up a bit.”

“I’m writing you into my next book, and you won’t be the hero.” Branna laced her fingers through the ones he rested on her stomach.

“I’m thinking I missed something under your hood…you seem to be misfiring, not purring like you were minutes ago.”

Branna found herself flipped onto her back and his mouth was on her breasts. He then proceeded to kiss every inch of her, then took her to slow steady heights before he slipped inside her and drove her over the edge once more.

“I can’t feel my limbs,” she sighed when she could form a thought.

“I’ll carry you everywhere from now on.”

She sighed as sleep began to pull her down.

“Sleep now, baby.”

And she did.

Jake was on the phone with his sister when Branna walked into the kitchen the following morning. She wore one of his shirts and he had to admit she filled it out a whole lot better than him. Her hair was damp from the shower and those beautiful bare legs glided towards him.

“All right, Katie, I’ll see you when you come home, yeah you too.” Putting the phone on the bench, he reached for her as she hesitated, pulling her between his thighs; he then proceeded to kiss her thoroughly.

“Morning.”

Her lashes fluttered open inches from his face, he looked into those green gems, and felt the large organ in his chest shift and resettle.

“Was that your sister?” Her words brushed his face.

“Yeah, she’s away at the police academy learning to fight bad guys.”

“I envied her in school. She was really athletic and I remember thinking she was one of those people no one would ever kick around.”

“Anyone ever kick you around, Rosebud?”

“No, I’m pretty tough too. Plus, my father made me learn self-defense. When I was twelve, I broke a boy’s nose.”

A nose fracture is a break in the bone or cartilage over the bridge, or in the sidewall or septum (structure that divides the nostrils) of the nose.

“Okay, tough girl,” he kissed her nose. “What can I feed you?” Lifting the hair from her shoulder, Jake burrowed into her neck, breathing in the delicious scent of woman still warm from the shower. She’d used his deodorant and it smelled way better on her than him.

“I’ll just grab my clothes and then go home, Jake. I need see what they did; besides, neither of us is the morning after kind of person.”

“You’re not entering that house without me,” Jake said.

The worry was back as she tried to pull out of his arms, but he held her close.

“Food first, then we’ll go there together and fix what needs fixing, Rosebud.”

“You don’t—”

“Yes, I do, and you’ll piss me off if you say otherwise.”

“Jake, you ran from my house the other morning, and now I’m returning the favor. Really, it’s okay, this is the way we both want things to be.”

“Just be quiet and sit down, Branna. Please.” Standing, he lifted her onto the barstool he’d just vacated, then began to fix them both breakfast. She watched him, unmoving and Jake knew thoughts were churning ‘round and ‘round inside her head as she tried to reclaim the ground she’d lost last night. Tried to shore up her defenses and sink back into her shell.

“Thank you for last night.”

“Which part?” He finished slicing the toast and dropped it into the toaster. “Because I’m pretty thankful too about now.”

She glanced down at the hands he now braced on the counter across from her before looking at him again.

“I came here and you didn’t get angry or annoyed with me; you helped me and called Cubby. I want to thank you for that.”

“Did you expect me the shut the door in your face, Rosebud?” He wasn’t angry, just sad that she’d even thought he might.

“No, even with the changes in you, I knew you’d help.”

“I’d have been pretty pissed if you hadn’t come to me, if you didn’t in the future as well.”

“I can take care of myself, Jake, and have been doing so for many years.”

“I know that, Rosebud, but sometimes you need help and I look after the people I care about.” The words felt right to Jake. He felt something for this woman and a few days ago he’d tried to fight it, but no more. He was sick of running from his feelings, sick of living in the cold.

“What?” The words were a whisper as she shook her head. “Y-you can’t care for me; I haven’t been back long enough.”

“There’s a time limit on caring?”

“Caring leads to other things, and neither of us wants that.” She was standing now, hands clenched.

He walked around the counter and took them in his.

“Too late.”

“I don’t want this, didn’t come here for this.” She tried to back away, but he held her still and then pulled her towards him until she was in his arms again.

“Why don’t you want me to care about you, sweetheart?”

“Because I’m not the type that people care for.”

It was so ridiculous, he laughed. Hurt, she tried to pull away from him.

“Don’t laugh at me!”

“I’m sorry. Branna, stop fighting me,” he gave her a shake. “I wasn’t laughing at you, I was laughing at that ridiculous statement.”

“I don’t want to care about you,” she said the words to his chest.

“But you do.”

“Oh, God.”

He didn’t laugh out loud, but his smile would have really pissed her off if she saw it. She was upset and he was happy that she felt something for him, just as he did for her. It was too early to prod the emotion and define it. It was new and raw and both of them had been in the dark for so long that it needed to be coaxed out, but for now, Jake felt warmer and lighter than he had in months.

“It’s all right,” he said the words solemnly. “We’ll take it slow, Rosebud. But, for now, let’s eat and then go and take a look at your house, okay?”

He let her go and she sat on the stool again. He left her to think in silence and watched the emotions play across her face as that big brain of hers tried to work a way out of what she had discovered.

Not this time, Rosebud, we’re in this together from this moment on.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The house was a mess, and he wanted to shield her from it and the obscene words some asshole had sprayed on the walls, but she wouldn’t let him. Her mother’s picture had a big red X painted on it, which just pissed her off instead of making her cry. The sofas had been slashed, and it would all take some sorting, but she was unhurt and that, to Jake’s mind, was all that mattered. He’d thought he had his anger under control, but it was back with a vengeance.

He watched her walk around the room, shoulders straight, chin raised, as she took in the mess that they’d made of her home.

“I’m not a violent person, Jake, but if whoever did this was standing before me right now—”

“You’d be administering a bit of ass kicking?” he added.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through this.” He gave her a hard hug before going to inspect the kitchen. “It’s really only this room,” he said, returning minutes later. There are a few things spilled and overturned, but this is the room worst hit.”

“Because they knew this is the one I would see first.”

Jake had thought of that too and wasn’t surprised she’d arrived at the same conclusion.

“It was to scare me. All this,” she swept a hand around the room. “It was meant to frighten me off, Jake and that surely means it is tied into my garden being destroyed.”

“It’s the logical conclusion, Rosebud, but we need to let Cubby do his work before we know for definite.”

A car pulled up the drive minutes later. Cubby and his mother, Maureen, walked in through the door. She was carrying a dish, which she thrust at Jake before grabbing Branna and hugging her hard.

“Well now, my dear, this is a nasty business. I heard Cubby’s cruiser leaving this morning and knew there’d been trouble, so I woke him early to find out what.”

Maureen Hawker was a smaller, more slender version of her son, although now her red hair was streaked with gray.

“Th-thank you for coming, Mrs. Hawker.”

Branna looked at Jake, who smiled but said nothing, as he knew others would be arriving soon, and she’d be really unsettled by the end of the day. She didn’t collect people, or lean on them, but that didn’t wash here in Howling.

“My name’s Maureen, dear, now I’ll just get to the kitchen and start the coffee brewing before the others arrive.”

Branna followed Maureen with her eyes, then looked from Cubby to Jake.

“Others?”

The second car pulled in then. Buster strolled in with a box under one arm. He grunted something to Cubby, who replied in the same language, then nodded to Jake before making for Branna. Wrapping an arm around her neck, he pulled her in for a hug, then rubbed his chin over her head. “You doing okay, sweet cheeks?”