His Firecracker: Sassy Girls Series Page 4

  Finally, Drake pulls into a parking space. Before he even turns off the engine, I mumble a ‘thank you’ for the meal, and I’m out of the truck. I’d love to say that I calmly walk toward the entrance, but it is definitely closer to a speed-walk… maybe a run. I’m not just trying to get away from him, I’m fleeing like a stalked animal. It brings up some very vivid and dark memories. I hate myself a little for associating this situation with my past.

  My ex is an abusive bastard and a ruthless killer. Drake is a scarred war hero and a doting uncle. At the start, he was short with me, but that quickly changed, and he’s been nothing but nice—if a little persistent (read: very persistent) in his pursuit of a date. Not in the creepy way that Dr. Givens pressures me. Drake is flirty and doesn’t get mad when I tell him ‘no.’ In fact, Drake had my back when Dr. Givens got a little too pushy. Honestly, there are zero parallels between my past and the situation with Drake, and yet, here I am feeling hunted.

  I make it to the elevator and groan when I see it’s on the twelfth floor. I push the button and silently beg for it to hurry. One thing you should never forget about running away: don’t run to the same place your chaser is going.

  I can feel his eyes on me as he crosses the lobby, so I’m not entirely taken off guard when his large palm rests on the small of my back. A shiver works up my spine when I feel him lean over, his warm breath skating over my neck as he whispers roughly in my ear. “You’re welcome, firecracker. Want to tell me what you’re running from?”

  I turn and meet his gaze head-on. “I’m not running.”

  The lie tastes like ash in my mouth. I’ve been running from one thing or another for the past six years. Just because I’ve been here for three years doesn’t mean I’ve stopped running. I’ve still got a go-bag packed and ready. I have a car that I never drive parked in a pay-by-the-week storage facility in an ask-no-questions part of town that is fully gassed up with a trunk packed of everything I’d need to disappear.

  Drake has no idea how accurate and necessary that question is. Today I’m not running from Frankie and his men though. Today I am most certainly running from the possibility of Drake and whatever these feelings are that he’s awakened in me.

  The doors to the elevator slide open, and we enter, Drake pushes the button to the maternity ward. We are halfway there when his phone rings.

  “Hutch? Is Blake…”

  My heart clenches in my chest at the anxiousness in his voice. Blake is his twin sister… the mother of the precious little twins that he’s been taking such sweet care of while she lays in intensive care fighting for her life. I say a quick prayer that she’s okay. I know what it’s like to be motherless and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

  “She is?” Drake’s tone is less anxious… that has to be a good thing. I hate that I am eavesdropping, but I hate even more that I can’t hear the other end of the conversation. “Oh, thank God.”

  Drake is quiet for a while his brother-in-law fills him in on his sister’s status.

  “When can we come see her?” His eyes look at me, and for a second, I have an irrational wish that he’s asking when ‘we,’ meaning me and him, can visit. “The twins are perfect and can’t wait to meet their mommy.”

  The ‘we’ is him and the babies, of course. I’m an idiot. I just ran from him like a mouse would run from a lion and here I am wishing he was going to take me to meet his family? What the heck is wrong with me?

  No really, someone tell me.

  Bueller?

  Drake ends his call and turns to me with what I will forever dub the best-smile-that-was-ever-smiled. “Blake is awake. She’s going to be fine.”

  I return the smile, because who could ever be immune to something so infectious? “That’s wonderful! I’m so happy for your family.”

  “When can we take the twins to see her?”

  I chew my bottom lip because technically the babies aren’t allowed in ICU—children, in general, are frowned upon unless there is a special circumstance. “I’ll have to call down and talk to her doctor and see what he thinks… taking the babies from maternity is against hospital policy.”

  Drake’s face turns thunderous. “Fuck policy. Blake is lucky to be alive, and she deserves to see those babies!”

  I put my hands up defensively. Another throwback to when I was with Frankie. Something on my face makes Drake draw up short, and his entire demeanor changes. He’s no longer upset, he looks confused. Rightfully so. Most people wouldn’t put their hands up as if they are expecting a slap when someone raises their voice in frustration. I’m a unique, shell-of-a-woman case.

  “I would never hurt you, Joselynn. Never,” Drake says adamantly.

  He lifts his hand as if he’s going to stroke my cheek, and I flinch away shaking my head. Everything about this day has my nerves shot. Thankfully, the elevator doors open and I’m able to escape again. At least in the nursery, there will be the distraction of the babies. I’ll call down to the ICU and get permission for the twins to visit and that will mean I’ll be free of Drake.

  Why does that make me want to cry a little?

  4

  Drake

  The weight that has been suffocating me since Hutch’s frantic screams to call nine-one-one lifts the moment I see my sister sitting up in bed, awake and smiling. And when she’s holding both of her girls, the look on her face is almost magical. The pallor from nearly dying seems to disappear in the light of her holding my little nieces.

  “So, sis, what’re their names?” I ask.

  Another broad smile spreads across her face, delight at having kept a secret from me. I can generally get her to crack, but she managed to hold out on this one.

  “Caiden Marie and Haiden Leigh.”

  I groan. “Did you really have to do that to them? Just because it’s been done with every set of twins in our family for generations, doesn’t mean you had to do it too. You could have broken the curse.”

  I’ll never admit that I’m actually pleased that my sister honored the tradition. It’s my job as her brother to tease and provoke. It’s a privilege that I’ll never take for granted again.

  “When you have twins, you can go ahead and break the curse. I wasn’t about to have mom come back and haunt me for the rest of my days. You know she would,” Blake teases.

  Joselynn, who has been mostly silent, snorts out a little laugh, then blushes beet red when she realizes she’s caught our attention. I can’t help the hungry look I give her—the pink tint on her cheeks is endearing. She clears her throat and shuts down any amusement she was showing.

  “It looks like you’re all set here. I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything, just call down to the nurse’s station, and someone will be right in.”

  I don’t even let the door swing shut before I’m after her. If she’s going to spend her time running, I’m going to spend mine chasing. Eventually, Joselynn will understand that I’m not going anywhere.

  * * *

  “Where are you running off to this time, cupcake?” I call her cupcake, knowing how much she hates it. Okay, so maybe I don’t just like provoking my sister. I like pushing anyone who needs the nudge, and no one needs it more than Joselynn.

  Instead of stopping or responding, her shoulders tense, and she picks up her pace. I can see her destination now, a set of “Staff Only” doors. I know Joselynn thinks she’ll be in the clear as soon as she passes the threshold, but she would be wrong. She can’t shake me that easily.

  Joselynn scans her badge and slips through the barely open doors. When the doors open wide enough, I slip through behind her. I come up short when I see her just a few feet away leaning against the wall with her head hanging low. I clear my throat, so she knows I followed her, the last thing I want is for her to get that same look of fear she had in the elevator. I don’t know who hurt her in the past, but if I ever come against them, they better pray because they will find no mercy in me.

  “You can’t be here,” she complains when she looks up to see
me standing here.

  I simply shrug my shoulders in response. Never one for following the rules, I’m not worried about whatever irrelevant consequences there may be for being here. Joselynn is the only thing that matters right now, and she’s upset. I know part of it is my fault, and I’m determined to fix it.

  “You have to leave,” she warns as I saunter closer.

  For every step I take toward her, she takes one in retreat. Her eyes are wide, and there is a hint of the fear I saw in the elevator—anger flares deep and hot in my veins at whoever caused her to react this way. I’d lay down my life at her feet before I ever let her be afraid like this again. When her back hits the wall, her eyes close in resignation—I’ve literally backed her into a corner.

  I don’t stop moving until our bodies are a mere hairsbreadth apart. Joselynn’s breaths come in ragged inhales that sound almost painful. Her heart is pounding so hard that I can see her pulse thrumming in her neck. Even though I desperately want to, I don’t reach out to touch her. I don’t want her to associate my touch with whatever caused her to have this kind of fear-related reaction.

  After a minute or two passes, her eyes flutter open—big blue pools swim with confusion. I still make no effort to touch her, nor do I speak. Joselynn stares directly at me as if she’s trying to puzzle out the situation. Another minute passes, and she shudders out a breath and visibly relaxes.

  “What is it that you want from me?” she asks timidly.

  I can’t take it anymore. I need this woman in a way that I’ve never needed one before. I’m not talking about in my bed—though that’s definitely part of the plan—I want her in every way. I want to hold her close. Wipe away her tears. Erase the fear from her eyes. I want her every smile and laugh. I want her heart and soul. I want it all. And in exchange, I’ll give her everything that I am.

  I know I don’t deserve her. How could a scarred man like me ever deserve such perfection? The answer is simple—I can’t—I don’t. But I don’t care. We’re beyond that now. I’m too fucking selfish to walk away from her.

  I lift my hands slowly, giving her a chance to protest. She stands statue-still until my palms come in contact with the soft skin of her cheeks. Ever so slowly, I lean forward and brush a whisper-soft kiss to her lips. I keep my eyes on hers, carefully gauging her reaction as I gently brush my lips over hers again.

  With every passing second, Joselynn relaxes into me until she’s pressed against my body and she’s cautiously returning the kiss. Her eyes flutter closed on a sigh as she fully surrenders to the moment. Her lips part and her tongue tentatively swipes against my bottom lip. I bite back a groan because I don’t want to scare her off with my eagerness. Her tongue lightly licks at me again, and this time I open to her, and I get my first taste of her cotton candy sweetness.

  I fully expect her to pull away, but instead, she deepens the kiss. My cock presses painfully against my zipper, and it takes every ounce of my self-control to not pull her against me and grind my hard length against her softness. I only allow myself to get lost in her sweetness for a moment before I pull away. Her hands are fisted on my shirt, holding me to her, and when I move to step away, she grips even tighter as if being separated is the last thing she wants.

  I thread my fingers through her hair and study her upturned face. Her lashes are lowered, so long and full that they rest against her flushed cheeks. Her lips are red, and kiss swollen. She’s fucking beautiful. My cock throbs as I think of all the ways I could put this same look on her face. When she opens her eyes, there’s a look of awe mixed with apprehension and desire. I’ve caught her off guard, and she doesn’t know how to react.

  “I want you, beautiful,” I answer her previous question. “In any way you’re willing to let me have you.”

  I lean in again lightly grazing her jaw with my nose, breathing her in. I feel her tremble and love the pure honesty in her reactions. She gasps when I reach her ear, speaking low, putting every ounce of my desire for her in each word.

  “Joselynn, you’re unlike anyone I’ve met. Please, give this thing a chance. Take a chance on us.”

  I’m practically begging, but at this point, I don’t care. I would get down on my knees if I thought it would sway her answer. Joselynn doesn’t respond right away. I can see the indecision, and I want to pour my heart out further, but I sense that she would shut down if I pressed any harder. I see the exact moment she decides to turn me down. She goes from soft and pliant in my arms to stiff and closed off. Her hands drop away, and she turns her face away until I’m no longer touching her.

  “I can’t,” she murmurs with obvious regret. “I’m sorry.”

  The way she looks right now, so dejected, makes me believe that she genuinely regrets denying me, but her resolve is firm, and I can see that no matter what I say she won’t be changing her mind today. I take a step away, giving her space even though I loathe every inch between her body and mine. If I’m reading her body language correctly, I’d say she’s not any happier with the distance.

  “It’s okay, beautiful.” It’s as close to a lie as I’ll ever come to telling her.

  Joselynn nervously grips her hands in front of her body, fidgeting like she does anytime she’s uncomfortable. I might’ve only known her for a couple of days, but I’ve watched her every second, so I know backing off is the right choice. It’s a calculated retreat. I’m not giving up on her, but I will give her time.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers to the ground.

  I feel like a piece of shit for pushing her so far out of her comfort zone. I can see her wilting like a plucked flower. Considering the level of stubborn feistiness she’s thrown my way from the start; I’m wrecked at the seeing my firecracker like this.

  Unable to bear it, I put a single finger under her chin and raise her face until she’s once again looking up at me. “Never, ever apologize for telling me what you need,” I say with as much reverence as I can. “I will always give you what you need. Your happiness became my top priority the first moment I saw you.”

  Joselynn’s eyes swim with tears. I have a moment of panic thinking that I’ve completely screwed up, but the corner of her lips tilts up slightly, and some of the weight seems to lift off her shoulders.

  “Thank you, Drake.”

  I smile down at her without an ounce of self-consciousness over my scars. “Anything for you, firecracker. Anything.”

  I tuck a stray strand of her hair behind her ear, then walk toward the exit. I turn to catch one more look at her before the doors shut and mentally fist pump when I see her fingers touching her kiss swollen lips. There is an almost dreamy expression on her face. I consider that a massive win.

  She might’ve turned me down this time, but she’s not indifferent to me which gives me something to work with.

  5

  Joselynn

  “Come on, Jos,” Lindsay prods. “You know you’re going to tell me so save yourself the hangover in the morning and spit it out.”

  I eyeball the largish glass of wine I’m holding and consider listening to her advice. I mean that is sort of what she’s here for… After what happened with Drake, I totally needed a massive dose of girl talk. The only problem is I forgot to remember why I didn’t want to tell Lindsay in the first place, and now that she is here, I’m regretting my impetuous phone call for emergency girl talk.

  I take another gulp of the sweet, fruity liquid courage. One glass won’t hurt, and lord knows I need the fortification of alcohol for this conversation.

  “So, we’re going to repeat the taco fiasco?”

  “That was one time, and we both agreed to never speak of it again.” I muster as much sass as I can manage.

  Lindsay laughs and takes a drink from her own glass. “It’s my job as your best friend to constantly remind you of all the humiliating things you do. Like that time you tripped over a ‘purse strap.’” The jerk uses air quotes, seriously why is she my friend? “And not only did you take yourself down, but also the waiter carrying a
full tray causing Burrito-apocalypse.”

  “Hey! There was a purse on the floor!”

  Every time this story comes up, I defend the fact that there was a purse on the floor. It’s questionable whether the purse was on the floor when I tripped or if it fell when I went down, but I’ll never admit that out loud. I mean, it’s not my first or even my most recent incident, just the most infamous one.

  I take another sip of wine while I wait for her to stop cackling. Which she doesn’t do… I know what’ll shut her up. “I kissed Drake,” I say in my most matter-of-fact deadpan voice.

  Instantly she stops laughing, and her jaw drops open. I would totally laugh at her venus flytrap impersonation if I wasn’t so nervous about her reaction to the news. I take another drink, grimacing when I realize the glass is empty. I desperately want more, but I decide to take Lindsay’s advice and set the empty glass down.

  “You can close your mouth any time now.”

  She blinks blankly at me for another minute before regaining her composure. Her look of shock slowly ebbs into one of satisfaction. I brace myself for whatever she’s about to say.

  “You…” she starts, pauses and shakes her head then begins again. “You kissed tall, dark, and dangerous?”

  I bury my face in my hands to hide my embarrassment.

  “Oh my God, you aren’t fucking with me.” Excitement replaces disbelief in her voice.

  I groan miserably because I know she’s going to hound me for details and push me to accept the date that Drake keeps asking me for. She’s been trying to set me up for years, and I’ve just given her the most perfect ammunition ever. I’ve turned down every date I’ve been asked out on in the last six years.