Authors: Kris Michaels
Keelee allowed Adam to pull her down onto the bed for one reason and one reason only. Her feet were on the verge of frostbite. He refused to let her turn her back to him but kept her wrapped in his arms and legs. His massive body enveloped her in heat. She tipped her head back to peer up at him.
“Hi.” He gazed down at her. His lips lifted a little when he spoke.
His hand moved from her back to the nape of her neck. She felt like she had been pulled into a trance. Nothing in the world but Adam existed or mattered. The corner of her mouth tugged up. “Hi.”
“You’ve almost stopped shaking. You must be exhausted. Had a tough day today, haven’t you?” His thumb ran up and down her cheekbone, caressing her softly.
“Y-yeah.” Sniffling and shivering, she nodded.
“Do you want some good news?” His eye searched her face.
“P-Please.” Keelee pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and waited. The fire crackled in the fireplace and his thumb continued its soft assault on her senses. Time hovered and the world shrank down to just the two of them.
“I remember everything.”
Keelee closed her eyes again. He remembered. Her life sucked on so many levels today. What could it possibly matter that he now recalled how she had offered herself to him and that he had been repulsed. It really shouldn’t, but it did. God, it mattered.
She dropped her head to his chest and shivered. He pulled her tight against him. His massive form radiated warmth. She didn’t know how long they lay with him holding her. The fact remained, there was no way he’d be holding her if it weren’t to bring her body temperature back up.
She decided to savor the small things she’d never enjoy again. His scent wrapped around her as certainly as his strong arms cradled her. The feel of his breath on her skin, the rhythmic caresses on her back and arm planted themselves into her memory. Warmed, her body no longer shaking, she should roll away from him, but she couldn’t move. Move? Hell, she couldn’t do anything. She couldn’t cry. She couldn’t talk. She just… couldn’t.
Incredibly, the events of the day faded away and she lingered somewhere on the cusp of a sweet, warm sleep. His deep voice rumbled against the ear she pressed to his chest.
“I’m so sorry. I accused you of some horrible things. I acted like an ass, and I was wrong. I hurt you and then I left without explaining.” His lips brushed her hair as he spoke.
Keelee didn’t want to face him or the past. How could she defend against what he accused her of? “I… didn’t mean to. What you said? I wouldn’t do that. Ever.” Her whispered response released the pain from the past, putting it center stage.
She felt his breath on her hair. “I know that. Wait, I’m doing this all wrong. Let me tell you the only thing that I remember that matters.” He lifted her face toward him and lowered his lips to hers, hovering just above them. His warm breath fanned her skin as he spoke. “I remembered that I love you, Keelee Marshall.”
Keelee felt him tremble as he brushed a gentle kiss across her lips.
Breathless. His words and his kiss left her breathless. “You do not.”
Adam smiled against her lips. “Oh, yes, I do. I fell in love with you here, and then I screwed it all up, baby. What happened after—is noise. We aren’t going to listen to the noise.” Her body melted into his. She couldn’t have stopped it to save her own life.
“No noise.” A small, happy gasp escaped from her as his arms tightened the circle around her.
He kissed her hair. “That’s right, baby. Shh… I got you. Everything will all be alright. We’ll figure it out. I promise.” He stroked her hair and his warmth enveloped her as he held her. His fingertips smoothed a soothing circle on her cheek as he whispered, “Sleep now, beautiful. We’ll talk when you wake up.”
Her mind acknowledged what he said, but the words wouldn’t form. A warm haze had enveloped her and pulled her under.
*
Adam held her as she drifted to sleep. She was physically and mentally spent. When her soft breathing relaxed and she drew in long, measured breaths, he carefully moved away from her. He tucked the sleeping bag around her and placed two more logs on the fire. Quietly, he began working in the kitchen. In two hours when he woke her up to administer a concussion check, he wanted to be able to give her something warm to eat and drink. A battery-operated lantern illuminated the corner where he worked.
He pulled the Sat-phone from his pack and powered it up. Keelee’s soft snores made him so damn happy. He walked into one of the bedrooms and closed the door so he wouldn’t wake his woman.
His
woman.
The phone rang once before Betty’s panicked voice reached him.
“Betty. I got her.”
“Oh, thank you, Jesus! Is she alright?” The woman’s voice trembled, but relief filled the airwaves.
“She took a tumble. A root cellar at the old homestead crumbled under her feet. She’s banged up, but I’ve got her back at the line shack now. We’ll be okay. I’m not going to bring her down until I know for sure her concussion is better and the blizzard lets up some.”
“Concussion? Do I need to send you some help?”
Adam chuckled. “No, I think I can manage. Doctor, remember?”
“Oh honey, I didn’t mean to suggest you couldn’t handle it. I’m just so… well, now I’m relieved.” The woman laughed and added, “No, you wouldn’t need any help, would you? Okay, I’m going to kneel down now and say a prayer of thanksgiving. Thank you, Adam, for finding her.”
“My pleasure. I’ll call you before we start down, but don’t expect us for two, or maybe three, days.”
“Okay. I’ll call Clint and let him know you have her. He was going to set out as soon as the blizzard let up.”
Adam hadn’t known what type of man Clint was, but it struck him as odd that the man wouldn’t be out searching for his woman regardless of the weather. He kicked himself for pushing Keelee toward someone else. “We’ll be down when she feels better. Are you okay down there? You have everything you need?”
“Oh, sure. Take care of that girl.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Adam paced the fire-warmed common area of the line shack and lifted a mug of coffee to his lips. Snowflakes built a ledge of snow against the glass on the kitchen window. Huge tufts of snow skittered by, silently pushed by a relentless wind. The built-up snow damn near mirrored a Christmas postcard. He stared sightlessly out into the dark. The thought of dredging up the past made his gut clench, but if he didn’t… He sighed and glanced down at his watch. Time to wake her up.
He filled a mug with soup and placed it on the fireplace hearth along with a couple of tablets from his kit. Adam pushed the couch around so the back abutted the top of the bed, making a makeshift headboard. Carefully he got onto the mattress and lifted her into his arms as he leaned against the back of the couch.
He felt her stir, but she slipped back into sleep. He rubbed her arm and kissed the top of her head. “Come on, beautiful, wake up for me.”
Her head turned into his chest and when she twisted her body to follow a low groan emanated from her. “Keelee, wake up.”
Her head tilted towards his voice and a pout formed on her lips. “Tired.”
“I know. But you need to wake up enough to answer some questions for me. After you do that, I’ll let you go back to sleep.”
“Mmm…’kay.” Her body relaxed and her breathing regulated. Adam rubbed her arm again. “No, young lady. Come on. Answer some questions for me.”
“What?” Her grumbled reply with one eye barely cracked open earned her a smile.
“What’s your name?”
“Cleopatra.” He chuckled and kissed the top of her head. She hummed and snuggled closer to him.
“Seriously.”
“I’m serious. My name’s Cleopatra Elizabeth Marshall. Don’t ask—it’s a family name. Mom’s side. Keelee’s my nickname.” His shirt muffled her words. He scooted her up higher against his shoulder and asked, “Where do you live?”
“Bumfuck, Egypt—also known as South Dakota.”
“Huh. Following an Egyptian theme tonight, are we? How old are you?”
“No, I’m in denial. I’m old enough to know better, too young to resist.”
“Funny, but that isn’t an answer.”
“Twenty-eight. When do I get to ask you questions?” She pushed up with a small groan and leaned back to see him better. Her fingertip played with the top button of his shirt. It popped open and she immediately started petting the hair on his chest. His cock twitched.
Down, boy, a lot of shit has to be fixed before you can come out and play.
“Fire away.”
“Why would you think I’d do such a horrible thing?” The soft question filled the room with a resounding thud.
“It’s a long story, and I want to tell you, but before I do, I need you to have some broth and take a couple pills for me.”
She shook her head and he immediately put a finger on her lips. “No, you don’t get to refuse to take them this time. The last time that happened you wound up with pneumonia, and we ended up in one hell of a mess.”
He took his finger off her lips and she smiled. “I was going to ask if I could have some of the coffee I smell instead of broth.”
He chuckled. “Sure, but you need to drink the broth too.”
Her bottom lip pushed out. He was pretty sure the pout was an unconscious mannerism, but damned if it wasn’t cute.
He lifted her into a sitting position and reached for the mug and medication, giving her both. He waited until she took the pills, raising an eyebrow. He gave her a wink when she opened her mouth to prove she had swallowed them.
After pouring them both a cup of coffee, he settled back down beside her. Pulling a deep breath in, he began. “About three years before I met you, I was involved with a woman named Bianca Turner. We met at a bar in the D.C. area. She was fun, pretty, and smart. I liked her well enough and we occasionally dated. One night we went out and I got shitfaced. This, in retrospect, was the first of many warning signs that I didn’t see. I hardly ever drink more than two drinks, but the second drink that night knocked me on my ass. Hard. I recall bits and pieces of the night, but not enough to say I knew what the hell I was doing. I woke up in her bed. The signs were there that we had fooled around. Except there were no condoms. I’ve never had unprotected sex. Ever. That was warning flag number two.”
Adam took a drink of his coffee and stared into the fire. His hand wrapped itself in a long lock of Keelee’s hair and he stroked the silk of her tresses with his thumb. “I believed her when she said she was on the pill and clean. No, I take that back. I hoped she was telling the truth and was on the pill. I got tested for sexually transmitted diseases that day. I’ve seen too much to trust my health to anyone. A couple months later, she calls out of the blue. She’s pregnant and she claimed the baby was mine.”
Keelee’s hand lifted to his neck. She cupped it and held her thumb at his pulse, stroking the pounding beat. He closed his eyes and focused on her caress. “She said if I didn’t marry her she would… said she couldn’t handle raising a child by herself.”
His foot started bouncing—obviously a nervous habit he’d recently developed, but he forced himself to keep going. “I couldn’t let her do what she said she was going to do. You see, I was a throwaway baby. The woman who gave birth to me left me outside Memorial Hospital in Miami.”
Keelee pulled his head down to her. She kissed him softly and pulled a hair’s breadth away. “Adam, you don’t have to explain. I don’t need to hear this.”
He dropped his forehead to hers and sighed. “Babe, if anyone deserves to hear this, it’s you.” He leaned in and kissed her. He needed to put all of it out there for her.
“I wasn’t adopted. I lived in the system until I was eighteen. I never had a stable environment. In the eighteen years the State of Florida was responsible for me I lived in twenty-seven different homes. Some of them were okay. Most were benign. A few of them left scars, mentally and physically. On my eighteenth birthday, my foster parent at the time set a garbage bag with all of my belongings out on the front step and told me to leave. He wasn’t getting money for me so he couldn’t afford to feed me.”
He gazed into his coffee cup as if the liquid could give him answers. “I existed on the streets for about two weeks. I was as tall then as I am now. Nobody messed with me as long as I stayed away from them. But I got arrested. One night after about a week of dumpster diving to eat, I ordered a huge meal at a diner. I tried to sneak out without paying for it. I was scared and when the owner of the restaurant attempted to stop me, I threw a punch. Several of the customers tackled me to the ground and held me for the cops. I was young, alone, broke, and just a little stupid. After three days in the holding cells, I went to court. The judge told me I could go into the Marines or I could go to jail. I shipped out to Paris Island four days later.”
“Is that where you met Jacob?” Keelee’s soft question brought him back to the present.
“No. I served my four years. Got out and used my GI bill to put myself through college and earn a degree in Biology. I was accepted to the University of Florida’s College of Medicine. After two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in school loans, a thousand sleepless nights and an unbelievable amount of testing later—presto, a doctor. I was accepted to a residency program in D.C. for emergency medicine and worked there for four years. That’s where I met Gabriel.”