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Chapter Seventeen – Tank
“Can you believe that? Who freaking calls at 6:30 in the evening to tell me I need to take the 8 PM class? Who?” She doesn’t let me answer. “That piece of shit Keagan, that’s who.”
We’d just gotten to the bedroom, and I was looking forward to eradicating all of Jess’s worries about me being deployed when her phone rang and Keagan, the other fitness instructor at Body Core, the health and fitness club, called to tell her she needed to cover for him tonight.
Jess opens the drawer next to her bedside table and rummages around. “And the piece of crap doesn’t even ask me first. He just okays it with Murrey, and that’s it.”
She slams the drawer shut. The framed photo of her grandparents wobbles on its legs, and her hand shoots out to steady it. Kissing her thumb, she places it over the face of the people who gave her more love than her own parents, distracting her briefly from her tirade.
A deep frown line forms right in the middle of her iceberg eyes. “Where the hell are my keys?”
I lean forward in the chair I’m straddling and rest my arms on the back. I know better than to interrupt her when she’s in a temper. To be fair, it doesn’t happen often, but when it does, it’s best to sit by quietly and wait for the storm to pass. Why she would think her keys are in the bedroom is beyond me since she always dumps them in the kitchen. Jess walks to the armoire and starts rifling through the top drawer. When she comes up empty, she closes it—gentler than before—and opens the second one to repeat the process.
“And if that’s not enough, he tells me I have to do the 5 AM shift tomorrow too.”
She blows a stray strand of hair out of her eyes, and I bank the disappointment of knowing we aren’t going to have as much time as we thought we would. She’s feeling bad enough as it is. I can’t make it worse for her.
“What absolute horseshit. And could I say anything?” Without waiting for a reply again, she opens the third drawer, and this time, she pulls it right out and tips the contents onto the floor. “No, because he asked Murrey before he asked me. I knew he was going to do this to me. I knew it. He was hinting all morning about wanting to go to LA to see a girl he met on Tinder. Tinder!” Her voice rises with indignation.
I glance down at the pile of cotton and lace—looking for all the world like a rainbow had puked all over the carpet—and stifle a smile. Jess places her hands on her hips and stares accusingly through narrow eyes at the underwear strewn on the floor as if they are responsible for the missing keys.
Standing in an orange and black workout outfit, her luxurious burgundy mane tamed into a high ponytail, she is beyond striking. The temper has brought a pink flush to her cheeks, and her blue eyes spark with anger. Call me a fucked-up son of a bitch, but I’m turned on as all hell.
Her next victim is her purse, which she upends onto the bed, and I know I should put an end to this before things get any more dangerous. If anything screams the severity of a situation, it’s when a woman throws out the contents of her purse. And if anything scares the piss out of me, it’s those contents.
“Jess?”
“Shit, I’m going to be late. Dammit. Damn Keagan to hell. I hope the fleas of a thousand camels infest his ballsack.” She reaches for her jacket and shrugs into it.
Before I can stop it, a chuckle escapes my lips. She says the damnedest things sometimes.
Jess stops rummaging through the stuff strewn all over the bed and glares at me. “I’m so glad I’m amusing you. Care to share the joke?”
“You’re so damn cute when you’re mad, y’know that?”
Clearly, that was the wrong thing to say. Her nostrils flare, and she searches the bed for something to throw at me. Or at least, I think that’s what she might be doing.
“Don’t,” I warn.
That, of course, only seems to piss her off more, but when I continue to watch her intently, she deflates, sweeping her hands over her hair. “You must think I’m crazy.”
“Well…” I raise my eyebrow and smirk.
She smiles, the first genuine smile I’ve seen since I told her about my deployment, and the stress lines around her eyes and mouth disappear.
I stand and walk toward her, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her tight against my body. “Talk to me, angel.”
She stares down at her feet, toeing the carpet. I lift her chin and place my mouth on hers. Her cherry lip balm mixes with a flavor that is uniquely Jess. I deepen the kiss, slowly feeling her relax before pulling away. Yeah, I wanted her to relax. And yeah, I want to do more than kiss her, but talking through what’s upsetting her is more important.
“Angel, we know Keagan is a douchebag, but you and I both know there’s more to the story here.”
She starts packing the contents of her purse back where they belong, doing just about anything to keep her eyes off me.
I sit on the bed and pull her onto my lap. “I’ve got all night, Jess.”
She leans into me, her soft curves molding precisely to my hard frame. But just when I think she’s going to start talking, she struggles against my hold.
I tighten my grip. “Chris, let me go. I need to find my keys.”
