Heart in Wire: A by a Thread Companion Novel (37 page)

Marly backed up from his large strides and he chased her into the dining room, which held a long, rustic-looking wooden table. He lifted her onto the table and kissed her. Then he pushed her gently down on the table, running his fingers and palms over every curve of her body. He’d missed her while he was in DC for the past week. His flight landed an hour and half ago. Her text was waiting for him when he turned his phone on and he’d broken every speed limit trying to get to her house as soon as he could. She’d sent him a picture of her on her bed, looking like she was starting the fun without him.

“Did someone miss me?” Her voice was breathy and seductive; he wanted to fuck her mouth too.

He growled in response and entered her furiously.
Bliss.

He’d carried her to the bedroom after they had sex on the table. He threw her on the bed and she turned over on her stomach, starting to move to the other side of the bed, feigning escape. Patrick grabbed her legs and pulled her close to him. He positioned his body over her, putting all his pressure on his forearms. She had dimples on her lower back, right above the ass that he loved. He kissed both of them and then kissed his way up her spine.

He took his time with her and after they finished, they lay side by side, sated and caressing each other. Marly sat up and ran her fingertips lightly over his new tattoo, the one that Richard had done while he was in DC. It was still healing; he got it the day after he flew up there.

“Who did this to you?” She bent down and licked the skin just under the tattoo, sending chills across his body.

“I get all my tattoos from the same guy in DC, Richard,” he answered, running his hands through her hair. “You keep doing that and—”

“No, I mean who made you get this tattoo?” she interrupted him and looked up from the tattoo. Then she bent over him again and began licking around the circumference of it.

He leaned his head back and sighed. She could do this all day and he wouldn’t mind.

Marly moved up his body and hovered over him, her face just inches from his.

“Why?” he asked her cautiously.

“What do you mean why?” Marly met his question with her own.

“You haven’t asked about any of my other tattoos, why do you care about this one?”

She sat up, breasts bare and very distracting for Patrick. “Because this one is new and deals with something I’m very interested in.” She put her hand over his heart.

He relented. “A girl broke my fucking heart, but to me it doesn’t feel broken, just wrapped in fucking wire, because no matter what I do...what direction I go…it fucking hurts.” He hoped they could still fuck after that admission, but he figured he should lay it all out there. Patrick stared into her eyes. “The only time it doesn’t hurt is when I’m inside of you,” he whispered.

Marly rubbed her fingers lightly over the new tattoo, then the nails in his chest. “Shit,” she breathed. “You going to tell me the story?” Her fingers were back at the heart inked into the skin on his ribcage on his right side. The heart was punctured and wrapped in barbed wire.

“I’ll tell you later. If you’re still around?” his voice raised in a question.

“I’m around.” She nodded and then kissed his mouth. She owned his mouth and he forgot everything other than that moment.

He lost himself in her kisses. She pulled away from him and waited for his answer.

“Maybe we’ll talk about it when you have clothes on...your boobs are very distracting.”

Chapter Thirty

SIMPLE

“So you’re still friends with the FBI Beauty?”

Patrick inhaled deeply at the question and then let out a huge sigh, thinking of a response. It was hot and they were lying in the bed with the fan on high, trying to cool off his top floor apartment. Marly knew who he was and that he lived with El and Billy for a while. Hell, she’d even googled him and showed him the YouTube video of him mowing the lawn to “I am Not a Whore,” by LMFAO. She admitted to watching it a dozen times and sending it to her best friend.

“Yes, we’re friends,” he finally admitted. “As much as anyone
can
be friends with her.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Marly turned over on her side and propped her head up on her hand. She ran her fingertips down his chest.

“It means she’s difficult. She’s difficult to be around, to be friends with.”

Marly looked at him with understanding in her eyes. “She’s the wire, huh?”

Silence.

He nodded slowly, thinking of how to phrase what he wanted to tell her. “She’s the wire and
you
are the bolt cutters I needed.”

She ran her finger around the heart tattooed on his rib cage. “So, you going to tell me the whole story?”

“I really don’t want to.” He ran his hands over his face; her fingers caressing his skin were doing crazy things to him. “I’d rather concentrate on your hands on me.”

“Babe, it won’t change anything for me.” She kissed his shoulders and leaned into his ear. “As a matter of fact, it’d be nice to know that you’ve messed something up before. You’re so perfect.”

He laughed. Patrick had been guarded around her, but she was slowly opening him up again. “I’m far from perfect.”
I murdered my friend
.

“So…”

“It’s simple. I loved her and she didn’t love me back.”

“I can’t believe you agreed to do this shit,” Billy said, pulling on his suit jacket Sunday morning.

Patrick came out of his old room in the only suit he owned. It was steel grey and Marly helped him pick out a pink shirt and tie to go with it. Liam was three months old now and would be christened today in George’s church.
Fucking George.
The only good thing about George was that he helped make Liam. Patrick didn’t know how he’d fallen in love with a baby that wasn’t his, but this baby was a cool dude. He didn’t cry too much, and he had this baby smell that Patrick had never smelled before—it was strangely intoxicating. When Liam had grabbed his finger yesterday and smiled at him, he’d melted.

“Dude, are you wearing a fucking pink shirt?” Billy laughed.

Patrick shrugged. “It’s a christening. I thought it was appropriate.”

“Appropriate?” Billy shook his head and stepped into his dress shoes. “My man, you know you continue to fuck yourself, right?”

“If I could fuck myself, I wouldn’t need to use condoms and would have no need for the willing ladies.”

“Those ladies aren’t too bright, huh?” Billy laughed. “All kidding aside…I’m sort of worried about all this.”

Patrick sat down at the kitchen table and looked at his phone, not liking where Billy was going with this line of conversation.

“I can’t believe you agreed to be the godfather.”

Patrick shrugged. “What was I going to say?”

“No,” Billy answered.

“I don’t think that’s something you say no to,” Patrick responded honestly.

“You understand she’s just pulling you back in, right? Now there’s no way you can get away from her.”

Patrick looked at Billy and nodded. “I know.”

“Then what are you doing?”

“I don’t know.” Patrick shook his head. He knew Billy was right, but he couldn’t help it. It was impossible for Patrick to stay away from her—whatever she needed, he’d do it. It was that toxic, dreadful push and pull between them that he loved and hated at the same time. He’d take steps away from her and she’d find a way to pull him back into her vortex.

“You need to back away from the complete family unit,” Billy said.

“I’m trying. I’m in Atlanta. I keep trying to get through it, get over it.” He
was
trying. Patrick tried to unwrap the twisted wires that had embedded itself in his heart, but sometimes he was certain that he wouldn’t live through it. The tissue had grown in around it. He felt if he tried to unwrap his heart now, the damage would be worse.

“You know I love El, but she’s a selfish asshole for doing this to you.”

He nodded. He was right, of course. Patrick had gotten used to Billy being right about most things; it was annoying. El was his person, the person that he couldn’t get rid of, the person who he couldn’t be with but couldn’t be without. He was trying, though, and it was getting easier every day.

Marly made it easier.

Billy and Patrick sat at a two person table at The Fish Market; they’d declined the reception at George’s mother’s house after the christening. Their jackets were slung over their chairs and they’d undone their ties. Patrick had rolled up the sleeves on his shirt; September in DC was just as brutal as Atlanta. They both were drinking massive beers, quiet in their own thoughts.

The entire affair was awkward for Patrick. Millie was there. He’d smiled, she’d looked at him with pity. He was now the godfather of a child he’d never see. He didn’t even know what that meant…to be a godfather.

“So are you going to get another roommate?” Patrick asked.

“Negative.” Billy grinned. “You guys are hard fucking work.”

“I don’t blame you,” Patrick responded.

“So Millie looked hot as hell. She colored her hair darker. I like it—makes her eyes look like copper.”

Patrick looked at Billy in question.

He shrugged. “What? I was sitting next to her while you got to sit with the family.”

“She did look good,” Patrick agreed. “I hope she’s doing well.”

“She’ll be fine.” Billy took a drink. “You know, I’m going to be gone for a couple of months. Maybe I should get a roommate to look after the house.”

“Couldn’t hurt.”

The server came with their meals. Patrick nodded a thanks and then dug in. They were quiet for a few seconds shoveling in the seafood.

“I mean, did you see the way she looked at me?” Patrick asked, his mouth full.

“Dude, we all look at you that way,” Billy joked, knowing Patrick was talking about Millie. “You made it painfully obvious what was going on, you know. I’m surprised she didn’t cut your dick off while you were sleeping.”

“Well, that’s a reason to thank her.”

They laughed.

“Billy, you know if you need any—”

“I’m cool,” Billy interrupted.

They went back to eating. “You know, I’d like to do a guys trip. What do you think?”

“Where?”

“Wherever you want.”

Billy shoveled a fork full of fish into his mouth. “Can we go to the Grand Canyon?”

Patrick began laughing and then stopped when he realized Billy was serious. “Sure, man, a dudes’ trip to the Grand Canyon.”

“I mean, I’ve never been.” Billy ate another bite of his fish. “I think seeing something that…amazing in person…I just think it’d be hard not to believe in something, right?”

Patrick shook his head at his best friend, the one with all the jokes that don’t let you know how fucking deep he is until he says some shit like that. “I’ve never been, so we’ll see.”

“I’ll plan it.”

“All right, man,” Patrick agreed and looked at his phone. It was almost time to go. He was walking forward, away from the pulling force of El into the vortex of a relationship with a co-worker that would never work.

Like he could read Patrick’s mind, Billy piped up. “How’s Naked Nelly?”

Laughing, Patrick nodded. “She’s great. We’re great.”

“Easy?”

“Yeah, really fucking easy.”

“Everything is easy compared to El,” Billy said nonchalantly, then took the last gulp of beer and threw bills down on the table.

“I’m not sure you’ve ever said anything more true,” Patrick agreed as they walked to Billy’s car.

Chapter Thirty-One

DREAMING OF BOOBS

Patrick drove to Marly’s house from the airport, hurrying because they were going to finish watching the last season of
Breaking Bad
. She hadn’t given him a hard time about going to Liam’s christening. He appreciated that about her—she never pushed and seemed to understand that he needed some time before he spilled his guts.

He pulled in behind her BMW sedan. It was candy apple red and matched Marly’s personality. She met him at the door wearing black spandex and a tight t-shirt.

He nuzzled her neck. “Why is it that you look just as sexy in workout clothes as you do in a dress and heels?”