Remember the Night: a Heroes of the Night military romance novel (15 page)

Not waiting for an invitation any longer, he stepped through the threshold and scooped her into his arms. Surprisingly, she didn't protest. He kicked the door shut behind them and kissed her tenderly on the forehead. "Because then we wouldn't be men."

The precious package in his arms made a noise resembling a cross between a chuckle and a sob. Her arms tightened around his neck, and she snuggled in closer. Thankfully, being around a sister for many years, he remembered her yelling at him that sometimes girls just needed to cry and get it out of their system. They didn't need a man to "fix" everything, just hold them and listen. She might have been his little sister, but when it came to understanding women, he deferred to her judgement.

He sat in the overstuffed chair and pulled Evelyn closer, alternating between tender kisses on her hair and forehead and whispering nonsensical reassurances. He waited as she worked through the emotions of the day, perhaps even more. Finally, her warm breath exhaled across his chest.

She lifted her head. "I must look a mess."

Cupping her cheek before running his fingers along her hairline and through the ponytail, he kissed her gently on the lips and whispered, "You're beautiful."

A small smile. "Liar."

With gentle fingers, he touched the bruise and scratches on her cheek. "I never lie. What happened?"

Evelyn sat up straighter, still on his lap but creating some distance. "It was nothing."

"Who's the liar now?"

Her mouth opened and then closed. Good thing she didn't try the "I never lie" line on him. "I was mugged on my way to the train station earlier tonight."

His arms tightened, pulling her close again. "That's definitely something, young lady. Did they catch the bastard?"

She turned slightly in his embrace, blue eyes firing with emotion. "I almost caught him."

"You did?"

She smiled. "After he knocked me down and grabbed my purse, I found my footing and took off after him."

He didn't know whether to high-five her or shake her. "Are you insane? What if he had a gun or a knife?"

Her head cocked to the side. "If he'd had a gun or a knife, he would've used it when he first approached me rather than knocking me down and snatching my purse."

The woman had a point. "You're still crazy for chasing him. Everything in that purse could've been replaced, including the purse itself."

"You're right, but I was annoyed he'd been able to surprise me, and…" She snuggled in close again. "I really love that purse."

He chuckled. "Forget war. You might be the death of me yet."

"I'm sorry you had to come all the way down here and find me like this."

"Find you like what?" Good to know her inability to admit weakness hadn't changed.

"Can we not talk about this? You're here. I'm feeling better at the moment. Can't we just…be?"

Sounded like a request for more time and space. What the lady wanted, the lady could have for now. "Sure, we can do that. Can we move to the couch, though? I'd love to stretch out after the car ride and still be able to hold you in my arms."

Her kiss warmed him from the inside out. Not with the burning fire of their passion but something much more…contentment. Angling his head, he softened his lips to let her take the lead. Instead, she broke the connection.

Must've interpreted that signal wrong.

"I'd prefer to sleep in my bed."

Her words stoked the fires of contentment into something hotter and brighter. Hell yeah, they could sleep in her bed. He worked hard to keep his voice calm and even. "Your call."

"Only sleep."

He needed a gallon or twelve of cold water about now. He slid his hand to the back of her neck and pulled her mouth closer. "Still your call."
I want her to know how much she means to me. How much I want to be there for her.
With deliberate tenderness, he pressed his lips to hers, focusing on the slight trembling of her response. Shivers of sensation slid throughout his body—so warm, so good. He wanted to stay in this moment forever.

Breathless, he released his hold on her luscious mouth. Her house, her rules. If all she wanted to do was sleep, so be it. But, if she gave him even the slightest opening… "Let me grab my bag out of the car, and we'll settle into bed, okay?" This level of understanding put him in line for sainthood, right?

"Okay."

Heading out the door, he contemplated the torture of being in Evelyn's bed, holding her so close, and not making the most of the situation.

Oh, the things we do for love.

The chair next to the window wasn't as comfortable as the bed or Cody's arms, but he shouldn't have to suffer from her insomnia. For a while, she simply watched him, the barrel of his chest rising and falling in rhythmic sleep.

She struggled to remember the last time she'd slept so peacefully.
India…in Cody's arms.
How could her biggest misstep in life also be the most perfect? It defied logic.

Not wanting to dwell on Cody, she turned to stare out the window. His presence in her life complicated the situation somewhat, but the true source of her problems rested squarely on her shoulders. For the first time in her life, she had no idea how to fix things, set everything straight, and return to the level of perfection to which she'd become accustomed.

Perfection—the goal, the desire, the nemesis. Grabbing her phone from the nightstand, she pulled up the search engine and typed in the word. She read the words over and over again.
"The condition, state, or quality of being free or as free as possible from all flaws or defects."

Only a desire to not wake Cody kept her from laughing out loud at the insanity of it all. Free from flaws and defects? Honestly, what kind of standard had she been holding herself to all these years? No one was perfect. She sighed. Her mother, the great Marie Alexander, came pretty damn close to perfect—at least as appearances went. If her mother played the same great shell game she'd been playing by pretending to be perfect and holding it all together, her elder had been far more successful.

Perfection was unattainable. Pretending to be perfect, no longer possible. What in the hell was she going to do now?

A warm hand on her shoulder brought her marginally out of her misery. "Hey, you okay? What's wrong?"

"Nothing."
Everything.

He slid his hand from her shoulder to cup her cheek, and damn it all if she didn't lean into the comforting gesture. "Doesn't look like nothing to me."

Who was she kidding? The illusion was gone. The control of herself and situations shattered. Why pretend anymore? She turned her face slightly and placed a kiss on the palm of his hand. "Just coming to grips with my imperfections."

Cody knelt beside her, his white teeth gleaming in the faint light from the window. "Wait, you're not perfect?"

"Very funny. I tell you my problem, and you make fun of me. Well done, Soldier. Kick a girl while she's down." Lighthearted banter with him always made her feel better.

Cody stood and extended his hand to her. "Come with me. I want to show you something."

She shook her head, slightly exasperated. "Whatever base you want to show me, I'm not interested in. I appreciate the offer, but I'm not feeling particularly sexy at the moment." She could only imagine how frightening her bruised and scraped face must be. Definitely not sexy.

He grinned again and reached to take her hand. "Sweetheart, I'm through stealing bases with you. The next time we step up to play, I'm hitting a homerun."

Was that the sound of her laughter? How did he do that so effortlessly? She couldn't remember the last time Nathan had made her laugh. Had they ever had fun together? "Fine, you win. Show me."

They walked hand in hand to the living room. Cody switched on a lamp, and she squinted her eyes shut against the blinding light. Once she could finally open them again and the spots disappeared, Cody was sitting next to her on the couch with a leather bound portfolio of sorts, smiling and waiting. "Any reason why the sudden change from dark to light had no effect on you?"

"Military training, boot camp in particular. Any idea how many times the drill sergeant would come to our room in the dead of the night, turn on all the lights, and start screaming orders?"

She chuckled. "I'm guessing a time or two."

"More times than you'd even want to guess. You adapted, quickly, or paid the price."

Sliding her hand over his thigh to rest on his knee, she squeezed gently. "Thanks for not making me do push-ups for needing a minute to adjust."

"Next time," he winked.

Pointing to the portfolio, she asked. "Is that what you wanted to show me?"

He moved his hand until two fingers rested under her chin. Lifting gently, their gazes locked. "I want you to see the perfection I see in you."

A moment later, he'd removed the clasp and opened the treasure. Flipping to the back, he pulled out a piece of paper smaller than the other items and handed it to her. As she scanned the drawing, tingling spread throughout her chest as she gasped. It couldn't be. She cocked her head to the side and blinked rapidly to ensure the image really was what she thought it was. A sketch of her…her naked body…asleep on the bed. Finally, she found her vocal cords, though they only managed a whisper. "You drew this in India?"

"Yes, once you finally succumbed to sleep." He grinned. "Took a while to wear you out."

He pointed to her face. "Do you see how peaceful you are? No stern lines, no worry—just breathtaking beauty. I must've stared at your face a thousand times in the last year and a half."

The intensity of this moment, of his gaze, almost overwhelmed her. She raised one eyebrow. "You only stared at my face?"

The sheepish grin on his face answered her question even before he did. "Well, no. But, I did give it equal time. I never went anywhere without it. You and I, we've been through a lot together."

The thudding of her heart increased as air caught in her lungs, trying to escape as heat spread across her chest. "You haven't shown this to anyone else, have you?"
Dear God, she would be so embarrassed.

His eyes widened. "What? No! Of course not. This was for my eyes only. Do you have any idea what this sketch means to me?"

She shook her head. Not a clue.

Carefully, he removed the picture and set it on the coffee table in front of them. Grabbing her hands in his, he lifted them to kiss each one. "It represents bringing to life something I thought was dead. Until I met you, the desire to create something out of nothing had disappeared from my life. War and betrayal tended to suck the creativity right out of a person."

"Betrayal?"

He lowered his head. "A woman. Someone who I thought cared as much about me as I did her. When I left for war, she came to see me and say good-bye, but she never wrote and was never available when I was home on leave."

She cupped his cheeks and brought his face level with hers. "Just because a woman doesn't write, doesn't mean she isn't thinking about you every day and night."

"This wasn't the same as you and me. I…well, I knew what I was getting when I pursued you."

Her shoulders stiffened slightly. "Which was?"

The chocolate of his eyes darkened to match the pensive expression on his face. "A married woman."

Each word sliced into her soul, magnifying her pain at the emotional cost of her indiscretion. "I'm so sorry. I…"

"Hey, hey…I didn't say that to make you feel guilty. You and your husband were over, for all intents and purposes. I get that. I'm a big boy. You wore your ring. I pursued you anyway. We're both to blame. Natasha didn't have other obligations to keep her away."

His forgiveness and excuses for her didn't absolve the guilt. "Still, I hurt you. Did the two of you date?"

"No, not really. It started as a crush…my side entirely. When I turned in my notice, though, she started paying more attention to me. We went out a couple of times, and then she begged me to let her come to the house to tell me good-bye. She loved my work. I figured she couldn't date me since I'd worked for her, but once I quit, all bets were off."

Evelyn narrowed her eyes. Details he provided sounded like a story she'd heard time and time again from her clients—clients who had been taken advantage of by their employers. She needed more details. Now wasn't the time to ask, but soon. Reaching over, she picked up the sketch and studied it again. Now that the initial shock had worn off, she could take time to fully appreciate and focus on his talent rather than being the unknowing subject. "This really is beautiful, not because I'm in it. It's…more your interpretation that helps me see myself in a different light."

Cody's spine straightened, and the light in his eyes danced. "Would you do me the honor of being my subject again? This time, I would have the proper tools and time to truly do you justice."

The earlier heat of embarrassment returned, several degrees hotter. Being drawn in the nude while asleep was one thing. Wide awake and fully aware, another thing entirely. "I don't know…"

"Please? I promise to make you comfortable and put you at ease."

She raised her eyebrows again. "Lots of experience getting women to undress for you?"

The boyish grin emerged. She didn't stand a chance. Thank goodness Cody wasn't an attorney, because one of those smiles, and she'd agree to any settlement offer he extended.

"There were a couple of models in an art class I enrolled in, but no one-on-one sessions, I promise."

"Pretty confident of your ability to deliver what you just promised, aren't you? If you've never done this before—well, with someone awake anyway, how do you know you can put me at ease?"

He moved closer, his soft, sensuous lips only a breath away. "Because, my dear, I know you."