Guardian (The Guardian Trilogy) (17 page)

“Seriously,
thank you.  This is the second time you’ve saved me.”

He
looks down for a moment and puts his hands on his hips, then raises his head.  “Anything
for James’ girl.”

My
heart melts at his response, and tears immediately jump behind my eyes.  He
gives me a small smile and turns to head back where he came from.

“I had
to take crap from Shel and now you’re on my case too?”

James is
lying on my bed following my every move as I walk around my room collecting my
dirty clothes into a pile.

“I’m
just saying.  Listen, why do you think Matt magically showed up in the parking
lot at work tonight?  Did you even think to ask him what he was doing there?”

I roll
my eyes.  “No.  I didn’t subject him to Twenty Questions.  He volunteered to
help me and I accepted.”  I pause. 
“I’m sorry,”
I say dramatically.

“Well,”
James flops on to his back, “I would bet money that he was looking for you.”

“Why
would he be looking for me?” I throw my clothes into the basket by the door. 
“That makes no sense.  He was probably there with Dane and stumbled upon me.”

“Oh
yeah, your other boyfriend,” he grumbles.

“All
right!  That’s enough!” I walk over to stand in front of him and throw my hands
up in the air.  “What do you want me to do?  Quit?”

James
looks at me.  “Would you?”

I sigh
loudly and flop down on the bed beside him.  “Yeah, that would be perfect. 
What would my parents think?  Without Shel here they would think I’m falling
back into a depression.”  I turn my head to look at him.  “Out of the
question.”

He
props himself up on his elbow, so he’s looking down at me.  “I thought you’d
say something like that.”

“Why
can’t you see that they’re not interested in me?” I ask, frustrated.  James
frowns and leans over so his face hovers above mine.  I lift my head to kiss
him softly.  “Why can’t you trust me?”

“I do
trust you,” he sighs.

“Well then,
why don’t you spy on Matt and Dane to see what’s up?  Put your mind at ease.”

James
smirks.  “I wish I could; however, I do have other things to do with my time.”

“You
know,” I say gently, “I am going to have people who come in and out of my life,
people who are friends.  When did you get so hot headed?  I don’t remember you
ever being so jealous.”

James
face twists in pain, and I immediately regret what I’ve said.  “I have no
control now,” he says quietly.  “Before I could just step in, like I did with
Patrick.”

I
shudder at the memory of my psycho lab partner.

“It’s
like I’m out of the picture and all these men descend.”

I
snort.  “’All these men descend?’” I quote him.  “Please!”  I take his face in
my hands and stare into his eyes.  “I love only you.  For now, for forever.”

He
leans in to kiss me, but I stop him by pointing a finger.  “Promise me we won’t
have this conversation again.”

He
shakes his head.  “I can’t.”

 “Why?” 
I roll my eyes. 

“Because
I’ll never get enough of hearing you say how much you love me.”

“Is
that what this is about?” I make a face.  “Since when did you become so
greedy?”

He
abruptly moves forward, passing through my pointing finger, through my hand,
and kisses me.  This kiss feels different, stronger.  His lips feel degrees
colder and the cool air moves faster.  When he stops I feel breathless.

“You
don’t know how badly I wish I could touch you right now,” he says roughly.

His
eyes follow his fingers as he traces my face from my temple to my cheek to my
chin.  His touch continues down my neck, brushes across my collarbone, glides to
my shoulder, and then travels along my side to my waist to rest at my hip. 
When he looks back at me, his eyes burn.

I wish
for that too, just as much.  But I hold my tongue; I don’t want to make him
feel any worse.  Instead, I reach for his hand at my hip and wrap my fingers
around his.  “I love you,” I reassure him.  I don’t want to discuss jealousy or
limitations anymore.  James watches me as I sit up and slide to the head of my
bed.  I reach for him and he folds himself around me.  I drift off into a
fitful sleep as my mind decides to make up for one thing we can no longer
have.  It plays another memory.

“Hold
on a sec,” James whispers into my ear before he pushes himself off me.  He quickly
springs to the door and locks it.

“What?”
I laugh.  “You don’t want Chad to walk in on us?”  Chad is James’ roommate.

“Hell
no,” he grins, returning to me.  He puts his hands on either side of my
shoulders and leans in close.  “I don’t get enough time alone with you,” he
says before kissing me deeply.

“He has
a key,” I remind him as his mouth leaves mine.  I prop myself up so he has an
easier time removing my shirt.

He
pulls it off over my head.  “No, he doesn’t.”  His eyes light up and he glances
at the desk that separates their beds.

I turn
my head to see Chad’s student ID connected to a Ferris lanyard along with a few
keys.  I turn back to James.  “Well, then,” I smile as I wrap my arms around
his neck to pull him closer.  He kisses me again, pressing me against the bed,
as I run my hands along his sides and then reach around to trail them down his
bare back.  His lips leave mine only to reappear at the base of throat, heading
south.  I close my eyes and my pulse races as he leaves a trail of kisses down
the center of my body, traveling to my waist, and then burning a path to my
hip.  They leave my skin for mere seconds before they are on my mouth again.  I
grab his shoulders as he lowers his body to mine and wraps his arms beneath me. 
Shifting his weight, he falls to the side, pulling me with him.  His back hits
the wall beside the bed.

“Ow!”
he says against my lips.

I
giggle.  “Are you all right?”

He pauses
to smile and then buries his mouth under my ear.  He moves and traps it with
his teeth sending a chill down to my toes.

“I take
it that’s a yes,” I whisper.

He
shifts forward so we’re not propped against the wall anymore, and I drape my
leg over his hip.  As I pull myself closer his free hand roams over my naked
back and then trails along my side.  My mouth is on his again.  I feel his hand
hesitate at my hip and then reach around my waist.  He grabs my side, tickling
me.

“Ahhh!”
I jump and push against his chest.  “Stop!  No tickling!”

James
laughs as I try to wiggle out of his hold.  He grabs my wrist with his free
hand, and pins it against the bed.  My leg is still looped around his.  “I like
to hear you laugh,” he grins.

With a
smirk, I wrench my hand out of his and go for his side.  He rolls and I follow
him, sprawling across his chest to get to my target.  Laughing, he reaches up
and grasps my chin, forcing me to look at him.  I give up on the tickling as he
takes my mouth so thoroughly my head spins.  I feel his fingers leave my face
and trace lightly down my back, reaching the waistline of my jeans.  He works
his way just inside, and the combination of his kiss and his touch winds me.  I
need to catch my breath.  I smile and open my eyes to look into his – and see
Dane’s face staring back at me.

My body
jolts and I snap awake, my heart pounding.  I turn and reach for James,
realizing the cool feeling of his body is no longer there.  He has left me for
the night.  I roll over on my side, curl my knees to my chest, and wait for my
heartbeat to slow.  I try to erase the image of Dane mixed with James by
clenching my eyes shut.

Holy
hell.  What was
that
?

I dump
the unwanted milk from my cereal bowl into the sink and yawn as it flows down
the drain.  I’m exhausted.  For the first time since James has come back to me,
I did not sleep well.  Our conversation and my insane dream kept resurfacing in
my mind, making me feel more and more miserable.  The jealousy that James feels
has obviously planted itself in my subconscious.  I wish he didn’t feel so
limited.  I wish he could read my mind and know, without a doubt, how much he means
to me.  How much he is and will always be enough for me.  How can I make him
see that?  Will I ever be able to?

I think
about James the entire drive to work.  When I pull into the golf course I have
to force myself to think about maneuvering my dad’s truck into a parking
space.  It’s a Silverado and the thing is huge.  I don’t like driving it, but
it was my only option if I wanted a new tire put on my car today.    I sigh as
I turn off the engine.  My training day with Dane will be sure to set James off
again tonight.  I shudder as the dream I had returns to me.  Seeing Dane today
is the last thing I want to do.  I rest my chin on the steering wheel and stare
out the window as I contemplate faking an illness.

As I
enter the pro shop, Kris greets me cheerfully.  “Good morning, Emma.  Go ahead
and punch in then I’ll get you two started.”  She nods to Dane, who is standing
next to the counter wearing the requisite Bay Woods polo and khaki cargo
shorts.  He flashes me his all-too-familiar-grin.  It irritates me, and I say
nothing.

We’re
assigned to one of the beverage carts.  Dane follows me as I head out of the
pro shop to where the carts are parked.  I open the coolers to make sure they
were emptied from last night.  “We’ll need ice,” I inform Dane.  “This cart
takes about four bags; the other about three, just so you know.”

“Good
morning to you, too,” Dane says.

I
sigh.  “Good morning.”

As we
fill the cart with ice and bottles, I have to admit I need Dane’s help.  It
seems like I’m getting more and more tired.  His ability to do all the heavy
lifting is appreciated.  After we get the cart filled and the inventory list
tallied, I slide behind the wheel to head out on to the course.

“Oh
no,” Dane objects and snatches the key from my hand.  “I’ll be driving.”

“What? 
Why?”

“You’re
distracted and moody,” he observes.

I give
him a tired sigh.  “I didn’t sleep well.”

He
enters the cart, sliding behind the wheel and pushing me aside with his hip. 
“Obviously.”  He puts the key in the ignition.  “Dreaming about me?” he raises
an eyebrow.

What?! 
I try to keep a shocked expression off my face by looking away and muttering, “You
wish.”

“Oookay,”
he says as he puts the cart in reverse.  “Humor is not acceptable on the
beverage cart.  Got it, boss.”

We head
out and I direct Dane around the entire course, pointing out the places I
typically stop when it is crowded.  There aren’t many people golfing this early
on a Wednesday morning, and we only manage to unload a bottle of water and a
bottle of cranberry juice to some seniors.  After our second tour around the
course, I direct Dane to a shady spot where he parks the cart.  Until the
traffic picks up, we won’t have much to do.  I doodle on the inventory list as
we sit in silence.  Five minutes go by.  Then ten.

“Okay,”
he says and turns to face me.  “What’s up?”

“What’s
up with what?”

“What’s
bothering you?”

I stare
at him.

“It’s
me, isn’t it?” he asks pointedly.

“Partly,”
slips out of my mouth before I can stop it.  I wasn’t expecting him to ask me
that!  I feel my face start to redden and quickly look away.

“At
least you’re honest,” he says, somewhat surprised.  “What exactly about me is
bothering you?”

What
can I say?  It’s not really you; it’s my dead boyfriend’s jealousy of you?

“Spit
it out, Emma.”

I
really don’t want to have this conversation.  I look at him, frustrated.  “What
do you want me to say?”

“Tell
me what’s bothering you.”

I shake
my head no.  “I barely know you,” I snap.

He
extends his hand to me, expecting a handshake.  “I thought we did this already,
but, hi, my name is Dane.  Yours?”

I refuse
to play along.  I stare at his hand like it’s infected.

He looks
at me like I’ve hit him.  His eyes harden.  He drops his hand and turns away.

My
chest starts to constrict.  I know I’m acting rude as a defense.  If James is
watching, I don’t want him to see me having a good time.  The guilt of being
here with Dane presses down on me because I know it hurts James, even though
Dane has done nothing wrong.  And now, on top of my miserable feelings about
hurting James and dreaming about Dane, I can add my miserable feelings about
being rude.  How do I make things right?

Dane
sits with his arms crossed, looking over the golf course.  “Hey,” I say
quietly, embarrassed.

No
response.

“Um,
I’m trying to apologize.”

Still nothing.

“Well,
I’m sorry,” I whisper.

Dane’s
mouth remains set, his face impassive, as if I’m not even there.

I don’t
know if it’s the realization that I’ve truly pissed Dane off, my inability to
assure James of my love for him, or my lack of sleep, but whatever the reason a
sob rises in my chest and escapes me before I can do anything to catch it.  I
cover my face as tears pour down my cheeks and soak my hands.