Temporary Home (22 page)

The second she stepped through the door, she knew he was in the house. She heard him in the kitchen. Walking in the opposite direction, she made her way to her bedroom. Closing the door, she put down her things and sat on the chair to remove her boots.

She was tired and really wanted to sleep. But since she was going to be on days starting Monday, she needed to stay awake now and sleep at night. Dropping the second boot to the floor, she sighed and leant back.

No time to rest now, she still had to get her run in. Groaning, she pushed to her feet and went to grab some running clothes. She’d pulled on her sports bra when the door opened. Tugging her white, quarter-zip running shirt down over her chest, she turned and found him in the doorway.

He didn’t speak, merely stared at her as she stood there in a shirt, socks and underwear. She arched a brow. “Yes?”

“Running?”

She shook out her black running pants then drew them on. “Yep.” Grabbing her shoes, she sat down to tie them. She rolled her shoulders and pulled her hair up into a ponytail before going back to her closet for her jacket and gloves.

“Are you mad at me?”

She blew out a breath and stared at him. “Nope. We’ve been over this, Sam. This is just a ‘now’ kind of thing. Lance said he was sorry you didn’t want to stay for lunch, but no, I’m not mad.”

Well, that was a whopper of a lie. She was pissed off that he wouldn’t tell her he was jealous of her being out with another man. Lance had it right, he wasn’t a threat, and if Sam would ask her, she’d be more than happy to tell him just exactly what Lance was to her. But he didn’t ask and she wasn’t volunteering the information up.

“Mind some company?”

Part of her wanted to tell him to stay behind, but honestly, she liked him around. “Sure. I’ll be up in the living room stretching.” She sidled by him, careful not to touch him. That wasn’t easy.

She waited while he changed and stretched as well, then they strolled outside. She readjusted her 180s earmuffs and watched Sam do the same. Then they took off and began running. He followed her stride and it seemed that they were pretty similarly matched speed wise.

As they ran, she thought about what had happened earlier and where she truly wanted to think of this going. Could she see long-term with Sam? Yes. But she wouldn’t be in a relationship with a person who couldn’t at least tell her how he felt. She wasn’t going to do that. It wasn’t fun when you had to fight for every single bit of emotion. To her, love shouldn’t be like that.

It saddened her to think of no longer having him in her life. She may see him if he came to visit Laila but in all the years they’d been neighbours, she’d never seen Sam there. So perhaps when he left it would be for good. She gave herself a mental shake.
This is Christmas, Roxi. Think positive.

She cut her gaze to the man running with fluid energy beside her. She had to get him a gift. What? She didn’t know yet, but she’d find something for him. For some reason, giving him a good Christmas was important to her.

Some reason my ass. I want to do it because I weep for the boy who never had a good one and cry for the man who is still unwilling to believe that people won’t hurt him.

She shook her head. He may have had a good Christmas at a foster home. Or perhaps with Laila and her family. But she wanted him to remember
her
and
this
one
with fondness.

They didn’t talk at all during the run and when they made it back to the house she was even more exhausted. But this was a good exhaustion—she loved how she felt after a run. They cooled down and showered—separately—before meeting in the living room.

“I’m making some coffee, would you like some?” she asked, hoping he shared her feeling that a truce had been called between them.

“Please.”

“Tell me something about you, Sam,” she blurted out as she added the grounds to the maker.

“What do you want to know?”

“If there was one thing you could have for Christmas, what would it be?”

“Dean healthy.”

She nodded. “Okay, what else? If he was fine, Laila was fine. What would you want? Something for yourself.”

He was silent for so long she turned her head to glance at him. A confused look was on his face. “I…I don’t know.”

“Something for your truck? Your apartment? You know, something other than an endless supply of porn,” she joked, knowing some of the guys had kept a large supply of said materials while deployed.

He gave her a pointed gaze, which told her he knew what she was doing. “I really don’t have any clue, Roxi, I’m not trying to blow you off, I just never gave it any thought before.”

She grabbed some decorated sugar cookies and put them on a plate. “Well, think about it.”

“What about you?”

“What would I want?”

He nodded, taking the plate from her and walking to the living room where he placed it on the coffee table. She followed him and sat on the sofa, curling up to face him at the other end.

“Let me think.”

He ate a cookie and watched her. “Not so easy, is it?”

“No. I think another work of art like the one in the hall. If I could have anything. An oil painting of ships like that. I just love them. To see a clipper slicing through the water, they feel so real to me. Perhaps one of those. Of course, gift cards to sports stores are always good, too. That way I never worry about not having my running clothing.”

“Running clothes?” he teased.

“Hey, I said a portrait as well.” She gestured at him. “What have you come up with?”

“Besides the endless supply of porn?”

She laughed. “Right, of course. Beside that.”

His blue eyes twinkled and her heart stuttered a bit before resuming a regular pace. He was teasing with her and she loved it.
Damn, there went that love word again
.

“Gift cards for music or books.”

“Your porn thought was more exciting.” She leant forward. “Come on, Sam. What do you want?”

His eyes heated and she felt the answering moisture between her thighs. “Not porn.”

“I figured that.”

He licked his lips and she watched him think. “I want a home.”

“I thought Laila said you had a place. An apartment, right?”

“I have a house. I want a home.”

Okay, melting heart here
. She wanted to grab him and hold him close. “We all do, Sam.”

As if he realised he’d imparted such information, he lifted a shoulder in a lazy move. “You know, filled—”

“With porn.” They finished together.

She got up to get the coffee and give him a minute to get himself back together. Pouring the freshly brewed liquid, she shook her head. A home. Of course he did. How could she have not seen it?

Chapter Ten

Sam rubbed a hand over his head as he exhaled. He hadn’t expected to deliver anything like that to her. His own private wish, want, or desire. Didn’t matter what you called it, a home was what he yearned for more than anything. But it was more than that now. Whenever he thought of a home, it had this woman, Roxi, in the picture with him.

He really didn’t know how he was going to move on without her in his life. And he didn’t want his relationship with Roxi to be as Laila’s friends, not solely anyway. He rolled his lower lip between his teeth as he sat there, grateful for the moment of solitude she’d given him. He needed to recover.

Should have stuck to porn
. He knew the stories—that being what filled a Marine’s sea bag. It would have been much less personal and he wouldn’t be sitting here feeling like he’d just opened up his heart for her to peer in and see his pain and wounds from childhood.

He watched her return from the kitchen with a tray holding their drinks. She placed it between them on the coffee table and gave him a smile as she picked her mug up. He searched for any sign of sympathy and found nothing. In fact, her face was devoid of almost anything other than her typical kindness.

“When did you decide you wanted to be a Marine, Sam?”

Share with her. Don’t push her away.
The words resonated within and he debated if he actually could or not. He’d try. The best way to explain this was to tell her of the man who had set him on that path, Staff Sergeant Dean Richardson, as he’d been then.

“I met Dean when I was seven.” He reached for his drink and allowed the familiar scent to seep into him. “In Minnesota, around this time of year.”

Sam almost expected her to say to him he didn’t need to tell her if he didn’t wish to, but Roxi sat forward, legs tucked under her and an eager light in her brown eyes. She
wanted
to know more about him. Unfortunately, Tracey had been the same way, or so he’d thought.

Stop it!
This woman is nothing like Tracey
.

“He took me to a shelter so I didn’t have to spend the night out in the cold winter. He was wearing his blood stripes and I think that was the moment I wanted to be a Marine. He was so capable and to a young boy”—he shrugged—“especially to me, it was a pretty defining moment.”

“Makes sense to me.”

“What about you?”

“Me? Well, nothing quite so noble. I fell into a bad crowd my senior year in high school and when we got busted, the judge gave us the choice—jail or the military. So I joined the Marines. Never regretted it. Changed my life around and for the better. I can’t imagine I’d not be in jail somewhere if not for that judge.”

He was amazed. Never had he pegged Roxi for a troublemaker. She laughed and took a drink.

“Hey, don’t look so shocked, it happens. We know this. I was one of the lucky ones who got their life straightened out and I have the Corps to thank for it. I’m not embarrassed or ashamed. I’m quite the opposite. I’m proud. Proof the Marines can change a person for the better.”

“How’d you meet Master Guns?”

A grin crossed her face. “I met him in Italy. Laila had come to visit him and we met at the bar, hit it off becoming fast friends. So she introduced us.”

He drew back and frowned, his eyebrows drawing together. “Laila was only in Italy once. I was there then.” His heart pounded at the thought he could have met her sooner. Perhaps then he wouldn’t have met Tracey.

“Were you? Well, too bad I didn’t meet you then, Sam Hoch. I have a feeling that could have been a lot of fun.”

He had that same belief. “Roxi,” he said.

“You don’t have to say anything, Sam. I know you’re not into sharing much.”

He
did
have to say something, though. She had to know how much she’d come to mean to him. But as much as he wanted to, he just couldn’t push the words past his lips. The sadness that flashed in her gaze cut him to the core.

Some Marine I am. Can’t even tell her how I feel.

He was disgusted with himself and his inability to do so. They passed the rest of the evening talking about places they’d served. It was nearly midnight when they finished the cookies and drinks. The coffee carafe now sat empty. He carried the tray back into the kitchen, Roxi on his heels. He watched her as she loaded the dishwasher. She looked tired and so he went around checking the doors. They met at the hallway and walked to her bedroom together.

They made slow love before he held her in his arms. As her deep breaths were the only sound in the room, he brushed a kiss along her temple and whispered, “I’m sorry about today, Roxi. I was jealous.”

He slept fitfully that night and was awake when he felt her slide from the bed and walk away on silent feet. Moments later a door closed. When she stepped from the bathroom, he’d just sat up in bed and turned on the light.

“Morning,” she said.

He watched her move in her robin’s-egg-blue silk robe, skin scrubbed clean from her shower. The robe stopped at her thighs, leaving nothing to his imagination, since he knew exactly what lay below the material.

“Morning,” he replied, desire moving through him.

“You going to be at Second Chances today?” She walked to her closet and opened the door, staring in at the clothing that hung there.

“Yes. Why?”

“Just swinging by with the presents from the bank.”

“I’ll be there. Come find me and I’ll unload them for you.”

He got up and ignored the stiff cock that wanted some attention from her. After drawing on his boxers, he pulled on some sweats then approached to stand behind her. He set his hands at her waist and nuzzled her neck, her tremor making him smile. He followed it with a light lick and graze of teeth.

“Stop, Sam,” she said breathlessly. “I have to get ready for work.”

He smoothed his hands down the silk of her robe and rocked into her. “Okay.”

When she pressed back into him he almost lost it but stepped away. One final look in her direction, then progressed to the bathroom where he took his own shower. Dried and dressed, he went to the kitchen and found her eating a piece of toast, a mug of coffee beside her.

“That’s all you’re having?” he asked with a frown.

“Not that hungry this morning.”

He paused and stared at her. She still looked a bit tired. Her hair was drawn back in a braid and her suit was black. Another pants suit which she wore the hell out of. Heeled boots today instead of shoes. All in all, he wanted to strip it off her and keep her in bed for the next few months. Maybe then he’d be assuaged of this clawing need to have her, over and over. She licked her lips and another jolt went from the action to his groin.
Then again, perhaps not.

Roxi finished her breakfast and put the dishes in the sink. “Okay, I have to get going. I’ll see you later on at the centre. Have a great day, Sam.” She walked by him and brushed a light kiss to his lips before continuing.

He snagged her around the waist and drew her back. “What was that?”

“A kiss goodbye.”

Fingers on her chin, he shook his head. “That wasn’t a kiss.”

“That so, Marine?” She ran her hands up his arms and looped them about his neck. Lord, she smelt so good.

“Try again.”

She licked her lips and shifted her weight. Tipping her head from one side to the other she watched him. Just when he was about to growl at her, she grinned and did as he had wanted. Kissed him again. Properly. He was straining to control his desire when it ended. Roxi’s lips were swollen and damp from their exchange.