ZEKE (11 page)

I pull my hungry mouth from hers, brush my cheek against hers, and then land a couple of soft, light kisses on her fleshy lips. I press my forehead against hers and close my eyes for a brief moment, needing to restore my control. I lift my head and look at her. Man, she’s beautiful. “Thanks for being here tonight,” I say, take a step back, and pick up the mug from the counter. “Come on.” I head for the door, not making the mistake of looking again at her. “I’ll show you to your room.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

I toss and turn in the bed for what feels like two hours. After showing me to my room, from the doorway, a cold and safe distance away, Zeke bid me a good night. He never came back. He left me here to ponder what just happened.

In the kitchen, we were so close and connected, and then the next minute, he’s pulling back from me. I don’t understand him. And who is Addy? What does she mean to him? She’s not a relative. He said as much at the hospital when her nurse asked, but he’s her health care proxy. That’s huge. You don’t appoint just anyone to make health care decisions for you. She trusts Zeke with her life and, as evident tonight, he’s certainly there for her.

I reach over and pick up my cell, 1:30 a.m. I set it back on the nightstand and press the pad of my hand against my head. I wonder how Rayna’s doing. I texted Emmie, but she never got back with me. I can’t just lay here and stare up at the ceiling for another two hours. I decide to go check on Addy, so I get out of bed and head down the hall to her room. I stop when I hear a strange noise coming from the room before hers. Being sure to take slow, quiet steps, I walk up to the door and creep around the frame to peek inside.

Addy is sitting on the bed, running a hand through Zeke’s hair. “The walls are strong,” she whispers as he makes a muffled sound, almost like a child’s cry. Eyes squeezed shut, his body shakes as he clenches the sheets. I take a step closer, wanting to go to him. Addy looks up and raises a hand stopping me. “It’s okay,” she says, bending down closer to Zeke. “It’s just a dream. You’re safe now. You’re home. You have come back again to where you belong; not an enchanted place but the walls are strong.” She kisses him on the forehead. “Sleep, Zeke. Everything is okay.”

I stand immobilized by the scene before me. Like a caring mother, Addy feathers Zeke’s hair and whispers to him until he finally relaxes, his breathing even outs, and it appears as though he’s fallen back into a deep sleep. Addy places a finger to her lips and then reaches for her walker. She slowly gets off the bed and moves toward me. I step back out of the room to let her through the door. She stops and turns to reach for the knob, but I grab it and pull the door partially closed.

“Come,” she quietly says and starts down the hall. I follow her into a room full of books and she sits on the sofa. She pats the cushion for me to join her.

We sit for a few silent minutes. The room is remarkable. I look around at the impressive book collection.

“Since my eyesight’s gone bad, sometimes, he reads them to me,” she says.

Rounding the books, I land at the elderly woman’s bright blue eyes. “How do you know him?”

She lets go of her walker and rests back on the sofa. “A little over ten years ago, I was standing in my kitchen doing the dishes. I looked out the window and there on the sidewalk in front of my house stood a boy. He couldn’t have been any older than thirteen or fourteen at the time. I remember thinking that he looked lost. I watched him for a few seconds, but when he didn’t leave, I decided to go outside to shoo him away.” She folds her hands together in her lap. “I opened the door and stepped out onto the porch. He looked at me,” she says, staring straight ahead, “and that’s when I saw it. Pain, so much pain, and it felt like it reached right out for me. So,” she clears her throat, “I asked him if he was there for the job. I mean, I wasn’t looking for anyone to do any yard work, but I figured the kid needed something. He was looking for something. But when I again offered him the job, he just stared at me for a long time. I was about to go back into the house when he finally found his voice and answered that he’d take the job. For the first year, he showed up every Saturday. He rarely spoke to me, but he did a good job. Then I brought him to this room and asked him to help me move some books around, and that’s when he opened up a little. Zeke loves to read. He’d spend hours in here. Sometimes, he’d fall asleep on this very sofa,” she touches the armrest, “and one day, I heard him crying out.”

“A nightmare,” I say, trying to understand their relationship. I know he lost his parents and his grams. Does Addy fill that void? Could that be it?

“Yes. Every time he’s been here and has fallen asleep, he’s been awakened by it. I don’t think he ever gets a good night’s sleep. I fear the same dreadful dream revisits him every night.”

“What were you saying to him? Ya know, the thing about the walls are strong?”

“Oh,” she places her small, wrinkled hand over mine, “
I have come back again to where I belong; not an enchanted place, but the walls are strong
. It’s a quote by a poet, Dorothy H. Rath. I read it one day and thought it meant to come back from a dream. Sometimes, they feel so real. So I say it to remind Zeke that he’s safe and back where he belongs.”

“What’s the nightmare about, do you know?”

“No, my dear,” she pats my hand, “he won’t talk about it.”

“That’s horrible.” I blink away a developing tear. Zeke struggles every night with the same nightmare. To think something is capable of frightening the strong and resilient Zeke Declan. Oh, my God! Rule number three, no sleepovers—could this be the reason why he won’t sleep with anyone?

What happened to him? What made him afraid of love? I have so many questions, ones I fear he’ll never answer. If I’m going to break him, if I’m ever going to get through to him, I’m going to need to find out what keeps Zeke Declan awake at night.

“I’m going to go to bed.” Addy leans forward and grips her walker.

“Do you mind if I stay in here for a bit longer?”

Addy leans back against the cushion, releasing the walker. “You like to read?”

“Yes. Actually, I’m an English teacher. I love books.”

“There,” she points to a bookshelf, “second shelf from the top.”

I get up, walk over, and point. “Here?”

“Yes, the third book from the left,” she says.

I slide my fingers along the bindings, pull out the book, and look at it. “Famous quotes from the Twentieth Century.”

“That’s Zeke’s favorite.” She smiles. “It amazes him how from one quote he can really get the sense of what a person was like. Whenever he finds one that inspires him, he’ll read every book he can get his hands on about them. His favorite quote is by Oscar Wilde, ‘
I don’t want to be at the mercy of my emotions. I want to use them, to enjoy them, and to dominate them.’”

“Really?” I look down at her in awe.

“Yes. I think that he likes to read all those quotes because he can see life through others’ eyes and relate to them. I know he’s had a hard life, but we’ve never talked about it. He’s never been ready to face what he fears.” She grabs the walker and pulls herself up from the sofa. “Who knows, maybe someday he will be.” She winks. “Well, I’m off to bed.”

“Oh, here.” I put the book back on the shelf. “Let me walk with you.” I come up beside her.

“I’m not as fragile as I look.” She smiles at me.

“I know.” I smile back at her, and we head toward her room. I wait for her to get into bed, say good night, and flick off the lights as I walk out the door.

When I get to Zeke’s room, I stop. The light from the hallway shines a beam across his face and naked shoulder. At rest, he looks younger. I don’t think he’s much older than I am, maybe, twenty-six or so. Not feeling my feet move, I float over to the bed. My hand reaches for the sheet and I draw it back. I slip into the bed and lay on my side beside his body, listening to the sound of his soft breaths. For a long silent moment, I remain motionless as the heat generates between us. My fingers lightly touch his hair, the curve of his shoulder, and the outline of his bicep. Barely making contact, I slide them along his forearm. He grabs my hand. I freeze as he holds me tight for a second. Then he lets go and I curl my hand against my chest as he rolls over and faces me.

“Picasso,” he huskily whispers, “what are you doing?”

“I’m going to sleep,” I say, looking into his glossy heavy-lidded eyes.

“This,” his weighted gaze rolls down my warm body, “is not a good idea.”

“Don’t worry.” I smile, feathering the back of my hand against his cheek. “I’m not going to try to take advantage of you, not with Addy right in the next room.”

He laughs, and my fingers find his soft lips. I touch his gorgeous smile. “You are beautiful,” I say, looking up at him.

“Ah,” he half-smirks with closed eyes, “your brain's medial orbital frontal cortex likes what it sees?”

“Yes. And the rest of my brain is telling me that what I’m seeing is actually worthy of its beauty. When I’m around you, I feel so alive,” I say, free from his watchful eyes. I brush my knuckles along the soft whiskers on his chin. “I feel content,” I palm his face, “and I feel safe.”

His eyes snap open. “You shouldn’t feel safe.”

“Why?”

“Because what you think you see when you look at me, that so-called beautiful, destroys anything it touches.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I told you before,” he grabs my hand and pulls it away from his face, “don’t go fallin’ for me, Lurlene. I’m not
that
guy, and I never will be.”

“I don’t want you to be
that
guy.”

“No?” He raises an eyebrow.

“No.” I rest my head on the pillow. “I want you to be you, Zeke Declan. I’ve gotten to know him a little over the past few weeks, and I like him. He’s funny, he’s strong, he’s dedicated, and he’s also scared.”

“Scared?”

“Yes. You’re afraid of me,” I say, and the epiphany strikes me hard. He’s afraid to get too close to me; that could be the only reason why he’s been holding back. The attraction’s there, sparks fly when we touch, kiss ... hell, just being in the same room is like the Fourth of July. He has to feel it too. I know he does.

He leans toward me, wraps his hand around my neck, and pulls me close to his face. “I’m not afraid of you.”

I glance at his tempting mouth and pull my brave out. “Then why haven’t you fucked me yet?”

He gazes down into my eyes and my insides light up. “Is that what you want?”

“No,” I say, bravery weaning, “but it still makes me wonder why you haven’t tried.”

He kisses me, not long and slow, just a soft, short press of the lips, and then he laughs. “What am I going to do with you?” He nuzzles my nose.

“Hmm ... I’m lying in bed, inches away from you, and you don’t know what to do with me?”

“Like you said, Addy is in the next room, and believe me, this is the safest you’ll ever be this close to me.” He lowers my head back to the pillow. “Now, roll over and go to sleep.”

“If I do,” I grin up at him, “will you hold me?”

“If that is what you want, yes. But I gotta warn ya, when I press against you, you’re going to feel how my body reacts to your ‘beautiful,’ and you’ll find no need to question whether or not I want to fuck you.”

“So you want to fuck me?” I grin again up at him.

“Roll over,” he sternly says, and I laugh but obey. He wraps his arm around me and pulls my body against his.

“Ow,” I wiggle my ass, feeling his erection. “Impressive,” I tease.

His arm tightens around me. “Go to sleep, Lurlene,” he growls into my ear.

Rule number three, broken.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

My body hits the linoleum. My back recoils from the sharp splinters of pain and fear that spikes through me. I try to sit up, place my palms on the cool floor, and push my heels. My socks skid on the surface. I can’t get a grip on the slippery floor. Face beet red and scary as ever, the monster bends down over me. I scramble to get away. My heart beats hard in my naked chest. His large hand stretches out and grabs my shoulder.