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A long pause. I don’t have to ask what she’s thinking. It’s the same thing I’m thinking, the thing I’m always thinking—that it’s time to stop and end this.
“I’ve got a car, remember?” she says.
Her parents paid for it—sweet Janine and loyal Roger, who beamed at me when Evie was born. She was so small, a tiny bundle in my arms as I held her. I can’t believe this woman is the same as that baby. It doesn’t fit into my head like a song with all the notes out of tune or a tree tattoo with leaves inked blue instead of green or autumnal brown.
“So this is the part where I could ask for the address, right?” she says.
Could, as if this is all still hypothetical. I can still feel her on my fingertips, her soaked pussy, her eager breaths as she gets closer to the edge.
“But we both know I should hang up the phone.”
“Yes, you should.”
Another pause. Somehow, I think I can hear her smiling. It’s as nonsensical as thinking I can take one look at her and know she’s mine and always will be. So it’s not nonsense because I’d never think of that as a joke.
“So, what’s the address?”
I smirk and tell her, then experience a fist of guilt smashing me right across the jaw. There should be no room for smirking here, but if Evie and I are proving anything, it’s that we don’t care much about should.
I stand in the bathroom, the room that’s mostly finished, looking at myself in the mirror. My eyes look wild. My jaw is tight. My temples are pulsing.
I look like a man ready for war, except there’s more passion cloaking me than before I went to work as a Marine. There’s more hunger.
I’m starting to realize that one reason I was such a good Marine is my ability to switch off my emotions, but that skill is failing me. It worked for a few hours, sort of. I was able to push her to the background of my mind, but the second I heard her voice on the phone, it all crumbled. My resolve became a joke.
“Hello?”
When I hear her voice for real, any chance at rebuilding that icy shield melts away. I almost run out to the main lobby area or what will become the main lobby area. Now, it’s a gutted room with wires poking from the wall.
Evie changed into a tight pair of faded blue jeans and a frilly shirt. Her hair’s back in her classic braid, draped over her shoulder, giving me animalistic thoughts as I dream about grabbing it, using it to guide her to my…
The tattoo, I remind myself. That’s why she’s here, but when she walks toward me, her smile tells me she’s expecting something. She’d be hurt if I didn’t kiss her or at least give her some sign I’m happy to see her.
Or is that an excuse? Whatever it is, by the time I’ve had the thought, it’s too late. Our lips magnetize, and then my hands slide down to her hips, grabbing on and pulling her close. She gasps, the kiss pausing, and then she’s the one to kiss me.
She moans as her hands smooth over my shoulders, then down my back, her fingernails digging through my shirt.
“Sorry,” she murmurs, releasing her hold. “I probably shouldn’t be scratching the spot I’m supposed to tattoo. Is this place safe?”
“Safe?” I ask, smirking.
“I mean… the wires and everything.”
“They’re not live, and anyway, Evie, I’d protect you from anything, even electricity.”
I think about Keith and his criminal friends and what my buddy told me earlier today. I wonder if Evie would want to know, but she’d be freaked by my sudden need to dismantle any bastard who’d hurt her. Does that mean I will punish myself since I hurt her?
I step back, trailing my hand along her braid. Her smile is heaven, her cheeks glowing in the lamplight, her eyes flitting to my hand on her braid.
“What?” I ask, reading her face. She’s thinking of something.
“Nothing.”
“What is it, Evie?”
She laughs adorably. “Sometimes, you sound very aggressive. Has anybody ever told you that?”
“Only about a thousand, but I don’t want to be aggressive toward you.”
“Maybe we should make a code word, huh? So I can say it every time you get your grump on.”
“I’m all ears,” I say, laughing.
“Um… tattoo?”
“We might say that too much for it to work.”
“What about, Whoa, Brian, you’re ruining this tattoo?”
“As code words go, it’s a little long, but if you’re happy, I am.”
She grins, laying her hand atop mine.
“What were you thinking?” I ask.
“Just that, it’s nice you noticed my braid.”
“It makes you look even more beautiful,” I tell her. “Don’t get me wrong. Earlier, when your hair was all wild, you looked sexy as hell, but there’s something so dignified and beautiful about this.”
