One Lucky Hero (25 page)

A
S THEY WALKED
back through the lobby to the hotel elevator an hour and a half later, Violet was as jittery as a virgin on prom night. She knew what was going to happen, and even though they had been there before, part of her was afraid she had built everything up in her mind. Perhaps sex with Dean wouldn't be as good as she remembered, or maybe she would be the disappointing one.

Dean pressed the third-floor button, and the elevator doors closed. Violet glanced his way shyly as he tugged on her hand, and just as the doors opened again, he swung her up into his arms.

“Not this again!” Violet laughed.

Dean ignored her as he stepped out and passed by an elderly couple who smiled at them.

“Good evening,” Dean said.

“Good evening,” they responded.

When they were out of earshot, Violet hissed, “You know, you're being a bit too obvious about what you plan on doing to me.”

“What do you mean? I was just going to carry you to your room and tuck you in—”

“You better be joking! I wore my sexy underwear just for you, and it is
not
comfortable,” she said.

“I saw.” Dean grinned as he dropped her to her feet and slid his key into the card reader. “And the first thing that came to mind was pulling it off with my teeth.”

Violet didn't wait for him to try to pick her up again. Pushing the door open, she grabbed him by his suit jacket and jerked him into the room after her.

The door shut behind them with a loud click, and darkness shrouded them as they fused together. Hands roamed unsteadily as they struggled with buttons, buckles. Shoes dropped in their wake as they sought the bed blindly.

Violet unzipped the side of her dress and peeled it off, stepping out in only the lace underwear. The skim of his rough hands against her waist was like exquisite sandpaper, stimulating her nerves even as his thumbs hooked into her panties.

And then she sensed his movement as he knelt in front of her, his mouth worshiping her stomach, hips, and thighs. She sighed as he dragged her panties down, exposing her to his seeking mouth and tongue. It was so different from the first time he'd loved her, maybe because the lights had been on and it had been driven by raw need and passion.

This was different. This was slow and sweet. His fingers gently spread her as his mouth found her clit, pressing against the little button and thoroughly teasing it.

Dean moved her until she felt the bed behind her and wordlessly lay back, her feet still touching the floor. The rustle of clothes and their heavy breathing were the only sounds as Violet reached for him, finally finding the warm muscle of his shoulder as he came over her.

They seemed to be making music with just their bodies, and it was the most beautiful thing Violet had ever experienced. The rasp of his stubble on her skin. The catch of her moan as his hand found her once more and the cries that followed as she came, soaring and lifting off the bed. The distinct crinkle of the condom wrapper and finally Dean's deep groan as he pushed inside her aching body.

And as she moved along with Dean, her arms and legs wrapping around him, Violet realized she never wanted the music to end.

D
EAN THRUST IN
long sure strokes, wrapped in the warmth of Violet's body. He was holding back. He wanted this to be good, so good she would finally understand what he'd been trying to convey without words.

That this was love and he never wanted to let her go.

Violet's lips found his neck and shoulder, sucking, and his balls tightened, his dick jerking inside her as he drew closer to the finish.

Shifting up, he dragged his length across the hidden point inside her and felt her muscles quiver around his cock. Repeating the motion again, he concentrated on every tell, ignoring his body's screaming need for release as he sought to finish her off one more time.

Finally, she let go, pressing up and grinding against him before he followed her down with a shout, his body shaking as he came hard.

When their breathing finally started to slow, Dean got up wordlessly and disposed of the condom, his mind full of things he wanted to say to her. But as he climbed under the covers, words failed him. Pulling her against him, he tucked the blankets around them and stroked the skin of her shoulder.

“Dean?”

“Hmmm?”

“Do we need to talk about what this is?” she asked.

Kissing her forehead, he was surprised that the thought of dissecting their relationship wasn't as terrifying at it would have been just three weeks ago.

Because you love her, idiot.

“Would it make you feel better if we did?” he asked.

“I don't really know. If the conversation doesn't go the way I'm hoping it will, it might make me feel worse.”

Dean pulled her up until she was sprawled across his chest and searched for her lips in the dark, giving her a long, deep kiss.

When he broke it, he whispered, “As long as what you want is to be with me, then I think we're good.”

He felt Violet's smile as she turned and kissed the palm cupping her cheek.

“Yeah, we're good.”

O
N
M
ONDAY MORNING
, Violet listened to the sound of Dean's even breathing as she played with the hair on his chest. They'd driven home yesterday with Casey, who had fallen asleep in the backseat for the last four hours of the trip while the two of them had held hands in the front. Something had definitely changed between them, although they hadn't talked about it specifically. It was subtle; suddenly, Violet knew it was okay to wrap her arms around Dean at lunch yesterday. She hadn't asked, hadn't worried that he would think she was pushing him. Just like when he'd put his hand on her knee as they drove.

Kissing her way across his chest, she felt him wake under the press of her mouth.

“Good morning.”

She smiled up at him before continuing her kisses. “Morning. Your alarm went off.”

“It did?” He reached over for his phone and groaned. “I haven't done that since I was a teenager.”

“Must have been exhausted from the long drive.”

“Or something else.”

Violet's cheeks burned as she remembered doing that
something else
to him, running her lips up and down his length until he'd lost control. It wasn't even something he'd asked for; she'd wanted to do it. She'd never done it without the guy prodding her into it, but last night, just the feel of Dean in her mouth and at her mercy had been hot and heady, and she'd loved every minute of it.

And when he'd returned the favor, well, she'd enjoyed that, too.

“We probably don't have time for
something else
now, do we?” she asked.

“No, I have a meeting at ten at the base.”

A sudden knock at the front door startled them, especially when Dilbert stood up at the end of the bed and released a loud woof.

Violet sat up with a groan. “Who would come knocking at eight in the morning?”

“One of Casey's friends? Maybe they heard he got out and wanted to say hi?” Dean asked.

“What teenaged boy do you know who likes getting up before noon?” Violet grabbed her pajamas off the floor and slipped them on, trepidation settling in the pit of her stomach. No one good ever came knocking early in the morning, and suddenly, she was picturing a police officer notifying her that Daisy was hurt, or maybe CPS was back . . .

By the time she reached the front door, her hand was shaking. As she pulled it open, she found a guy with a bicycle helmet on smiling at her.

“Violet Douglas?”

“Yes, can I help you?”

“Here you go.” The guy held out an envelope to her, and she took it.

“What is this?”

“You've been served. Have a good day.”

Served? Like court papers served?

In a panic, Violet ripped into the envelope and pulled out the folded papers. Her knees threatened to collapse under her weight as her eyes scanned the court document.

She didn't even hear Dean come up beside her. “What is it?”

Her chest was so tight she could hardly breathe, let alone speak. For the first time in years she had been happy, had pushed everything to the back of her mind as she'd gotten caught up in Dean.

Just like the first time they'd met.

Now, here they were again: Violet's world crumbling around her because she'd ignored a problem, and Dean standing next to her, witnessing it.

“My . . . my father. He wants his parental rights reinstated.”

“I didn't know he was back.”

Violet's gaze shot up. “I didn't know I had to tell you.”

“You don't have to tell me. I'm just a little surprised you didn't, especially if you were worried about this. Did you have his rights terminated?”

“When I petitioned to be their guardian, I had to prove him unfit. Between the three of us, and his criminal record, the judge ruled in my favor, but . . . ”

“But what, Violet?”

Her father was taking her to court. He was trying to take Casey from her.

Her breathing shallow and fast, she started to sway.

Dean scooped her up and closed the door with his foot. He carried her to the couch and sat down with her in his lap, stroking her hair and murmuring. Violet buried her face in his neck, soaking up the comfort he offered.

“It's going to be okay. You'll see. You have done a fantastic job with Casey—”

Violet jerked back with a laugh. “You mean letting him get arrested?”

“Every kid has issues, even those with two parents.”

“But we're not talking about them. Who knows what he'll tell them about—” Violet snapped her mouth shut.

“About what?”

Violet had only ever told Tracy the truth about the night her father had attacked Casey, as she was afraid of the memories. Of the fear and the rage that had coursed through her body, of wondering if she'd had one more bullet, if he hadn't stopped hurting Casey . . . would she have killed her own father?

He opened up to you. If he loves you, he'll understand.

“I know you've read Casey's file, so you know what my mother did and that I found her.” Just talking about it conjured up the image, and she winced. “And that I raised Daisy and Casey while my dad got high all the time.” Dean nodded encouragingly, and Violet took a deep breath. “But we lied when we told the courts that he just took off. I . . . I threatened him.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked.

Violet closed her eyes, afraid to look at him. “I pointed a loaded gun at my father and told him to leave and never come back.”

Dean sucked in his breath, but moments passed without a word from him. Finally, she opened her eyes, but she couldn't tell what he was thinking by the unreadable expression on his face.

“Why would you do that?”

The question didn't sound accusatory, but it still rubbed Violet raw. “Because he had Casey pinned down on the bed, terrifying him. He was high and looking for money for another fix, and he started choking Casey. I ran and got my gun, and I . . . I put a hole in the wall above him to make him get off, but he just sat there, telling me I wouldn't do it. So I told him I would. And I meant it.” Violet wiped her hands down her face, tracing the trails of tears down her cheeks. “I would have shot my dad to save my brother. And if I had it to do over, I would do it again.

“But now he's back, and he wants to pretend like none of it ever happened. Wants a fresh start and to get to know us, and I just . . . I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to deal with this. Either way, I lose. If I fight him and he tells them I threatened him, I'll lose Casey, and if I just give in, I lose him anyway. I don't know what to do.”

“If you've seen your dad, maybe you can talk to him? Come to some kind of agreement where he can have supervised visits with Casey. Maybe he'll drop the suit if you give him a chance.”

A wash of irritation flooded Violet. After everything Casey had been through, how could Dean be so cavalier about Casey's well-being? “My brother has already been at the mercy of two monsters. If I voluntarily let him back into our lives and he hurts him again, then it's all on me. It will be like making a deal with the devil.”

“Okay, I understand everything you're saying, but if your dad really has changed, shouldn't you at least try?”

“No, because addicts get sober all the time, but most of them relapse. What if I let him into our lives and one day I find out he slips up and puts Casey in danger? I can't do that, not voluntarily.”

“But just because a lot of addicts fall back into the habit doesn't mean your dad will. Don't you think that people deserve second chances?”

“This wouldn't be a second chance; this would be his millionth chance.” Violet pulled out of Dean's arms, but he held tight. “Why are you on his side? You don't know him or everything he did to us.” Struggling to get off him, she snapped, “I don't know why I even told you.”

Dean's dark eyes bored into hers. “I thought you told me because you trusted me. And maybe you wanted my help.”

Violet yanked away, needing the distance from him. How could she have been so wrong to think he would understand? “No, for the last time, I don't need your help. I don't need you to take care of me or paint my house or rescue me anymore.” Violet didn't want to be shouting all of these things, but it was like she couldn't stop. Every time her life started to take a turn for the better, another obstacle would pop up. She'd been happy, finally. Let herself believe that she could have a normal, joyful existence with love and a family, but she'd been right all along.

Happy endings really were just a fantasy.

“Please, just go. I need . . . I need some time to think.”

“About us or your dad?”

“I don't know.”

“Got it.” Laughing bitterly, he started to walk toward her bedroom, then stopped. “You know, I thought that this whole pushing people away thing was over. After this weekend, and everything I've done—”

“Do you want a fucking medal? Is that it? Do you want me to be simpering and forever grateful to you? I just had a three-ton weight dropped right back on my shoulders, and you're whining at me about your hurt feelings?”

Dean shook his head, and the pain in his eyes was so intense that she almost took a step toward him, but she couldn't take care of him. Handling another heart just wasn't in the cards for her.

“No, I was saying that I thought for a second that there was something real here, something worth staying for.”

Swallowing hard, she drove the nail into the coffin. “Well, I guess you were wrong.”

“I guess so. Dilbert.” The dog slunk out of the bedroom to Dean's side, and Violet turned away as he slammed out of the house, wrapping her arms around her body.

It was the right thing to do, better for everyone. She had been crazy to think that this would all work out.

She heard a squeak from above and looked up just as Casey came down the stairs, stopping at the edge of the living room. “What is wrong with you?”

That was the question, wasn't it? If only she had a good answer. “It's none of your business—”

“You are my sister, and you are messing up the best thing that has ever happened to you. Even I'm smart enough to know that.”

Casey went back upstairs, and Violet sank into the couch. He was right. She had lashed out defensively and stupidly jumped down Dean's throat because she was terrified.

Why the hell was she ever worried about Dean hurting her? It turned out she could sabotage her happiness all on her own.

D
EAN HAD A
hard time sitting still for his meeting with General Reynolds, especially when all he wanted to do was go for a run or take a few turns in a sparring ring. Anything to fight through the cyclone of emotions circling inside him.

“Hello, Sergeant Sparks.” General Reynolds smiled beneath his salt and pepper mustache. “How are you doing?”

Dean stood and saluted him. Instead of telling him the truth, he lied. “Doing well, sir.”

“That's good.” As the general sat down, so did Dean. “I wanted to have this meeting because I know you've been requesting to get back into the field for some time and we have a spot open with a team leaving at the end of the month.”

Dean sat stunned as the general kept talking, unable to get his mind to shut up. Still reeling from the blowup with Violet, he had no idea where they stood. And now, here was the opportunity to get back out there after all this time, and it was the last thing he wanted.

Rita's questions raced through his head. In five years, he wanted to see Alpha Dog expanding and helping more kids and dogs. He wanted to create a better system for the kids who left the program, better placements for the ones who didn't have families.

Forget about Alpha Dog. What about you?

As clear as day, he pictured living in a nice house with a big backyard and coming home from work to Violet in the kitchen. Violet laughing at something Casey said while balancing a red-headed little girl on her hip.

His kid.

He hadn't meant to push so hard about her dad. Why had he tried to fix it? He should have just sat back and been her sounding board, but he'd had to play devil's advocate. He knew enough from dealing with his mother and sisters not to do it, and yet, seeing Violet so miserable had made him want to solve all her problems. All he had been doing since meeting her was trying to fix everything wrong in her life, while she kept repeating she didn't want or need his help.

But he hadn't listened, had just continued to push. Now he might have lost her.

Realizing that he hadn't been listening to anything else the general had said, he caught only the last bit.

“I hate to lose you because you have done a great job running the Alpha Dog pilot program, but if you're still interested—”

“Actually, sir, with all due respect, I'm not.” It was blunter than he'd intended, but there it was. Even if his future with Violet was gone, he knew what he wanted, finally.

The general's bushy eyebrows rose up. “You're not?”

“No, sir. I'm not.” Feeling as if he should elaborate, Dean continued, “Once I realized that the only reason I wanted to go on tour again was to prove that I wasn't done, I actually started thinking about my life now. And I'm happy, sir. I enjoy working with the kids and the dogs. I like making a difference to them. I like having a purpose and knowing that they are getting the best from me.”

Leaning back in his chair, the general grinned broadly. “Well, I'm actually glad to hear it. It would have been a bitch replacing you.” The general stood and held out his hand. “Keep up the good work.”

Dean took his hand. “Thank you, sir.”

As Dean left the general's office and the base, he was tempted to call Violet. Although she had definitely been out of line and flown off the handle, he shouldn't have slammed out of there like that.