Wedding Bell Blues (10 page)

I rolled onto my side and punched impatiently at the pillow.
Unfortunately it was little comfort. I was caught in that revolving
door of emotion and memory - and the knowledge that nightmares would
plague me if I let my guard down. So I couldn't sleep, no matter how
tired I was.

It had been bad enough when the nightmares centered around
Maryanne's wedding. There'd been the dreams where my mother had chased
me through the streets, yelling that all I had to do to make her the
happiest woman in the world was settle down with "some nice boy" and
give her grandchildren. The worst had been the one where I'd tried on
the maid of honor dress from Hell, only to find I could never take it
off. The very thought, no matter how ridiculous it might be, that I'd
be forced to wear the harlequin dress every day for the rest of my life
was enough to scare me senseless.

But those nightmares paled next to the ones I knew waited for
me
now. I could feel them pressing at my self-control, laughing because I
wouldn't be able to stay awake forever. Sooner or later, my eyes would
close, my body would relax and my mind would go blank. That was all the
opening they needed. Once that door opened even a crack, they'd be
through it, plunging me back into the fear of what happened at Manny's,
the uncertainty of what else might happen before the killers were
caught.

Maybe they really had been the devil and his sidekick. It
might
explain why they'd torched my house. The devil had to love fire, right?

What happened at Manny's and the fire went to some place
beyond
normal nightmares. I couldn't help wondering if I'd have to spend the
rest of my life looking over my shoulder, scared someone might jump out
from around a corner or from a dark shadow to finish the job they'd
left undone at the liquor store.

And I couldn't understand why they'd come after me, why they'd
burned my house. I couldn't identify them. The man who hit me - at
least I think it was a man. For all I know it could have been a young
woman - had never removed his mask. There had been nothing else about
him that I'd noticed. Fear and disbelief had frozen me in place and my
mind had locked down on itself. So why come after me?

And would they do it again?

Damn it, I hated this.

Another glance at the clock. Only five minutes had passed
since the
last time I looked. Lying here, staring at the clock wasn't going to
solve anything.

Frustration with myself and with the situation
momentarily pushed down the fear. I tossed back the sheet and sat up,
swinging my legs over the side of the bed. Light flooded the bedroom a
moment later when I clicked on the bedside lamp. Sitting there, I
looked around, longing for the familiarity of my own room and knowing
that was gone, stolen by whoever had set fire to my house.

Still, there were things here that reminded me of better
times, things that had that "home" feel to them.

That
surprised me and I'd thought myself long past being surprised after all
that had happened this weekend. Little things, like the photo of Colton
and me and the swordfish he'd caught on that deep sea fishing trip we'd
taken with my parents. The mock Maltese falcon I'd given him for his
twenty fifth birthdays because the
Maltese
Falcon
was his favorite movie. Other things, little things, that I knew he
hadn't had time to put out just because I was going to be staying there
were scattered around the room, adding to that sense of familiarity.

To tell the truth, it surprised me he still had them. If
anyone had
asked, I would have said he'd have thrown out anything I'd given him
years ago. Just as I'd thrown out so many of the things he'd left at
the house after I kicked him out. Of course, there were a few things
I'd kept. But not because he'd given them to me. No, not at all. I had
kept them because I liked them.

At least that was what I'd told myself whenever I'd actually
let myself think about it.

I reached out and picked up the photo from where it rested on
the
bedside table. We'd been happy then. No matter how much we'd argued, we
always seemed to find our way back to one another back then. Maybe it
had been because we'd been friends first and then lovers. But that had
changed when I'd found him and that little tramp Heather doing the
nasty on the kitchen table.

Still, I couldn't deny the heat I'd felt that morning when he
kissed
me. More than that, I couldn't deny how he'd done his best to take care
of me since the fire. He'd never complained, never questioned what I
asked him to do. He'd just done it.

He'd taken me to my parents' after leaving my place that
afternoon.
Of course, he'd taken the coward's way out when we got there, staying
in the car so he wouldn't have to face my mother. Not that it had done
any good. While I showered and changed into a pair of jeans I kept
there and a clean shirt, my father had gone outside where he was still
grilling Colton when I finally came out, my mother all but glued to my
side. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know what was going on.
Daddy wanted to make sure Colton was taking care of me so that nothing
else happened. Mom, well, she was being Mom. Her little brain was
busily calculating what she needed to do to get us together again.

She always had liked him.

More than that, she'd never made any secret of it, often
comparing
him to some guy I'd bring home after Colton and I had split. She had to
be rubbing her hands together gleefully now, hoping beyond hope I'd
come to my senses and beg Colton to take me back.

As if.

Worse, if she only knew what he'd done after we left, Mom
would be
convinced there was hope for another wedding. I shook my head,
remembering how Colton had taken me shopping for clothes and the other
necessities of daily life before taking me to dinner. Then I climbed to
my feet. In four steps I was across the small bedroom and standing
before the window. Below me, a few cars drove through downtown Fort
Worth. The skyline was slightly obscured by a line of low clouds. It
looked so calm, so peaceful.

Why couldn't I feel the same way?

Fear once more began pushing at the edges of my control. It
started
in my belly and began spreading from there. My teeth chattered and my
hands shook. Reaction. That's all it was. I'd held it in check all day
and now, tired as I was, it was finally surfacing. But that was my mind
talking and the rest of me didn't believe it. If they'd found out where
I lived by calling the police impound, they could find out where I was
staying. Then they could come for me here.

Stop it! You're safe. You've got to believe it.

Sure, and I bet Manny was
convinced no one would ever try to rob his store, much less shoot him.

That did it. I couldn't stay there, not by myself. No matter
how
much I prided myself on being a big girl, able to take care of myself
no matter what, this was so far out of my league I didn't know what to
do. But I did know one thing. I didn't want to be alone and my only
hope for company at - another look at the clock - one thirty in the
morning was Colton. He was just beyond the bedroom door. All I had to
do was walk out of the bedroom and he'd be there.

Just as he always had been.

I'm not sure how it happened. One minute I was in the bedroom,
staring out the window and doing my best to convince myself what a
terrible idea it was to even think about going into the other room. The
next minute I was moving across the bedroom. Then my hand was on the
doorknob, turning it, pushing open the door.

A single low watt
light burned in the kitchen to my right. It cast just enough
illumination for me to make out the sofa against the far wall. It was a
huge sofa, one designed to let you sleep on it in comfort. A sofa
similar to the one we'd bought together so long ago simply so Colton
and I could stretch out on it together to watch a football game or a
movie.

A slight smile touched my lips as I stood in the doorway,
looking at
Colton sprawled on the sofa, sound asleep. Like this morning in my
kitchen, he was bare chested. An afghan covered him from the waist down
and one foot peeked out from under it. I took a step forward and then
stopped as surprise rocked me. I knew that afghan. I'd made it for him
our first Christmas together.

How many other things from our life together had he kept?

And why?

"Colton?" I knelt next to the sofa, one hand gently touching
his left shoulder.

He started nervously, his left hand flashing out to grab my
wrist
even as his right hand snaked under his pillow and came out with his
gun. I swallowed hard, one fear abandoned for another. Then, as
recognition dawned, he shoved the gun back where he'd found it and
levered himself into a sitting position.

"Jess, what is it? Are you okay?" He reached out and gently
brushed a lock of hair from my brow.

"Honestly? No." I tried to smile but it didn't fool him. He
knew me too well.

"Tell me," he said as he swung his legs off of the sofa and
motioned for me to sit next to him.

"It's stupid. Just reaction." I blinked furiously against the
tears burning in my eyes.

"Jess, it's normal. You've had a hell of a couple of days.
It's okay to be scared."

"Who says I'm scared?" Pride reared its ugly head, forcing
back the tears, at least for the moment.

"Jess, it's me, remember?" His fingers were gentle, almost
featherlike, as they brushed away one stray tear as it trickled down my
cheek. "Do you want to stay with me?"

Suddenly tongue-tied, I simply nodded. Colton carefully
maneuvered
so he once more stretched out along the length of the sofa. Then,
holding the afghan away from him, he waited as I stretched out beside
him. As he covered us, I realized for the first time that I wore only a
tee shirt, not much more than the boxer shorts he wore. But it didn't
matter. Nothing was going to happen. That was all behind us.

Still, as Colton's arms circled my waist, I couldn't deny that
flash
of excitement that ran through me. With it came the memory of his kiss
that morning and how I'd felt. I might not trust the son of a bitch,
but I still lusted after him. What normal, healthy girl who happened to
like the guys wouldn't?

I lifted my head, my lips brushing the line of his jaw. I
breathed
in the smell of him and closed my eyes, remembering the good times. I
needed those memories to chase the nightmares away.

The touch of his left hand at my waist, holding me close, the
beating of his heart through my tee shirt was enough to convince me
that he hadn't forgotten what it had been like any more than I had.
Then, when I opened my eyes and saw him looking down at me, my heart
skipped a beat.

"Jess," he whispered, his lips brushing mine, his hand
slipping under my tee shirt and gently stroking my back.

My breath caught, my heart beat a little faster. My hands
fisted on
his shoulders, as I snuggled in as close as I could. In the back of my
mind, a little voice told me to think about what I was doing, to
remember what had happened the last time. Ruthlessly, I slammed the
door on that voice, telling it I wasn't going to listen...at least not
for a while.

Colton shifted, rolling until he was on top. Surprised, I
fought for
a moment. Then his mouth fastened on mine, and all coherent thought was
lost. His mouth ravaged mine. His hands cupped my breasts, his fingers
teasing, stroking. Every nerve seemed to come to life, demanding more,
craving more. I arched up, pulling him against me as I sank my teeth
onto the skin of his shoulder, his neck.

"God, you're driving me crazy," he said roughly before pulling
the
tee shirt over my head and bending to fasten his mouth on my right
breast.

I couldn't answer. I couldn't think. All I could do was feel
and
demand more. My fingers grabbed his head, twisted in that thick hair as
they held him close. I threw my head back and all but purred in
satisfaction. God, hormones can be a wonderful thing.

I wrapped my legs around him and shifted, rolled until he was
once
more under me. His soft "oomph" brought a smile to my lips. Time for me
to do the work. See if I could get his pulse racing as he'd made mine.

I leaned forward, nibbling at his ear, then his jaw. I nipped
at his
lower lip, and then closed my mouth over his, my tongue teasing,
demanding. He groaned and pulled me close. Satisfaction sang through me
to feel his heart beating a tribal rhythm in his chest. Then, telling
him to lie still, I kissed a trail down his chest, across his flat abs,
relishing how he almost sobbed in frustration as I changed course and
started moving back up his chest.

His hands closed about my waist and we shifted again. Before I
could
protest, the fingers of his right hand danced lightly down my stomach.
My breath caught, desire cried for release as his fingers dipped lower
and lower. I shifted slightly so I could reach for him, hold him,
caress him as he caressed me.

"Oh, God."

I'm not sure which of us spoke, but I think I whimpered as
Colton's
mouth followed his fingers. He looked up, grinning, before plunging his
head between my thighs, his mouth doing all the things I remembered
from before. And he certainly hadn't forgotten anything. Thank God.

"Don't fight it, Jessie," he said, replacing his mouth with
his fingers.

Fight it? I couldn't control it. My breath caught, my body
spasmed and,
for one moment, the universe ceased to exist. Nothing existed beyond
the explosion of sensations that sent every nerve on a roller coaster
ride that didn't seem to want to end, that I didn't want to end.

Before the world settled, and I really wasn't sure I wanted
it to,
I felt him shift again. A cat-like smile touched my lips to realize he
was as excited as I was. No doubt about it. Then he was filling me, our
bodies moving in that age old dance as they matched rhythm for rhythm,
as naturally as if we'd never been apart.