Garrison's Creed (Titan) Page 10

  No way was she pissed at him.

  No way.

  They’d kissed. It wasn’t all him. She was there with him, every lip lock, tease, and torture. She’d been game.

  He murmured, “You’re standing there ‘cause you want me to ask what’s the matter. And I don’t feel like it. So scurry along, Nic. You have your reason not to work with me. Jared will give you a pass.”

  “I want to work with you. You’re the one who doesn’t want me.” Tap, tap, tap of the toe. She wanted him to keep guessing.

  True enough, he didn’t want to work with her. He deflated an exhausted breath. “I don’t know what you need me to say. Help me out, or go away.”

  “Challenge me.”

  “What?” He picked the hat off his head, catching a good stare at her.

  “Test me. Ask me to do something you think I can’t do.”

  “I’m not playing games.”

  “I’m not either, but if we’re going to work together, you have to believe I can keep up with you.”

  “No—”

  “I’m not playing, Cash. Try me. Challenge me. I want to earn your respect.”

  “I respect you. Promise. I’m sorry about this whole kissing in the grass thing.” He paused. “Actually, no, I’m not.”

  “It has nothing to do with—”

  “Then your timing sucks. As usual.” He knocked the cowboy hat back into place. It hung on a tilt, but he didn’t bother to fix it.

  “Cheap shot.” She put her hands on her hips, and the foot bounced, bounced, bounced.

  “Blue balls. What can I say?”

  “Classy, Cash.” She smirked, her face reading sky-high on the bitch-o-meter.

  “I’ll tell you what. You want to spar, we can do that. But here’s the deal, and it has nothing to do with working together. You win, you get whatever you want. I win, I get to finish that kiss.”

  The foot stopped bouncing. He jumped up and walked away before she could rain a storm of excuses on him.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “Best two out of three.” Nicola swore he’d let her win that one. She’d hooked an ankle above his knee and shoved a hard hand against his chest. He should’ve been able to roll out. He should’ve done anything, but nope. Pinned beneath her, Cash looked pleased, sporting a hi-how-ya-doing grin on his handsome face.

  Didn’t he want to finish their kiss? Or did he want to see what she wanted? Oh, this was frustrating and confusing. I’ve been hanging with CIA folks too long. The guessing game and lack of trust permeated every question and situation, giving her a constant headache.

  “You’re on. I’ll go two out of three.” His sly smirk said he wanted to get pinned.

  Nicola jumped up on bare feet, and he followed. She waited for him to move, then charged.

  Attack. Block.

  Counter-attack. Block again.

  She rocked back on her bare heels. “Come on, Cash. This is too by the book.”

  He put his hands on his hips. “You started out textbook. I’m taking your lead.”

  Shit. She was so concerned about displaying what she knew, that she’d left the heart out of their battle. She’d anticipated, shown off, and lost focus, all of which sucked the fight and emotion out of her natural moves. Proper footwork wouldn’t impress Cash. Heart would. She knew that. She knew him.

  Nicola breathed in, centered, and readied her launch. He was taller, stronger. Speed and quickness were on her side. She needed to get in, get close, and get out. Faking a throw, he jumped away, then stepped into her spinning back kick.

  She set up high, struck low. Cash grunted with the blow, and a smile of pride slipped across his face. Hell, no. She wasn’t here to impress him. She was here to take him down.

  Jab. Jab again. He caught her hand before it fully extended. He took a side step and countered. A leg hooked behind, and down she went. Cash was over her, hovering so close, so sexual. Broad arms trapped her. His heavy weight held her in place. He smelled like masculine effort. Salt from her sweat teased her lips. The air was charged. Hair stuck to his damp forehead. The scent of fresh perspiration tightened her stomach. His beautiful sapphire eyes shone, pinning her to the ground. The air vacuumed out of the gym, and she was done.

  She tapped the mat.

  Once.

  Twice.

  Released, Cash rolled off her and lay next to her on the blue athletic pad. She studied the ceiling. He had the win. He’d earned his kiss. Their kiss. Her body tingled, not from the body slams and mat burns, but the vivid flashback of the grassy field interlude. She shivered, despite the warm temperature and the hand-to-hand workout.

  Nicola turned her gaze from the ceiling lights and crashed headfirst into Cash’s gorgeous gaze. Her heart squeezed ripcord tight and forgot to beat. Sweat dampened his cotton shirt, and his mesh shorts stuck to the rippled muscles in his thighs. Not an ounce of fat. Nothing but lean, mean, 100% Grade A Cash.

  He would look spectacular naked. Sculpted and tan. Blonde chest hair and cut muscles. Memories raced. A fresh round of shivers skipped down her neck and chest, hardening nipples under her tight spandex shirt.

  “You’re good, Nic.”

  She mumbled a response, not even aware of its meaning, and looked past him to the row of equipment. Free weights. Treadmill. Heavy bag.

  “Feel better now?” he asked.

  Nicola propped up on her elbows, but her head hung back. She didn’t want to see him answer her question. “Better question is, do you?”

  “Meaning?”

  “You thought I hadn’t been trained.”

  “You’re CIA. Logically, I know you’ve undergone the best that the best has to offer. But it’s hard to connect the woman I knew to the woman with roundhouse kicks and evasive maneuvers, catching her breath next to me.”

  Now she looked at him. She couldn’t help it. “Do you like her? I mean, me? Who I am now?”

  He propped up on an elbow. “Yeah, Nic.” He pushed a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. “I really do.”

  She was suddenly aware of her thumping heart—the same heart that went on boycott a tense moment before—and her nerves responding to his smoldering look. She had to change the subject to something, anything else. Sitting up, she dusted off her hands. “I need to thank Mia for the clothes. I didn’t think I’d log any gym time this weekend and didn’t pack anything for a workout.”

  He chuckled. “Are you nervous around me?”

  Maybe. “Of course not. You’re so damn cocky, Cash.” She jumped up, ready to run. Cash stayed on the floor, eyeing her, knowing her far better than she liked to admit.

  “’Cause you seem to do just fine when we clash, but given a quiet moment, you smooth your clothes or pick a fight.”

  “How very observant of you.” She tried very hard not to fidget with her shirt.

  “Right there. Hear it in your voice? That’s a fighting tone.” His voice drawled, hinting at their Virginia roots. “I observe. It’s what I do.”

  “You’re a sniper. That’s what you do.”

  “Nah, sweet girl. That’s just my specialty. I observe. I conclude. I react.”

  “Good for you. Night.” She had to get away from him. It was confirmed, without a sliver of hesitation. She wanted Cash. Needed and craved him. Desperation would take her down, and he’d see her come apart. Her pulse raced, but her fingertips ached to run across his lips, just to take in their softness again.

  “Nic, wait.” She heard him slap the mat. Halfway to the gym door, she turned around. No other man on Earth could sound so distant and still mean so much to her. “I’m sorry.”

  Sorry for what? He had spoken the truth. No surprises there. Her chest ached.

  “No prob,” she lied, still needing to get away from him. A flick of a wave and she was out the door. It slammed behind her.

  ***

  The caged, florescent lights above his head were set on motion detectors, and one by one, they blacked out. Click. Click. Click. Surrounded by darkness, C
ash sat with his thoughts. It made for a lonely moment and summed up the last decade. Granted, he hadn’t physically been alone, but he sure as shit felt that way.

  And I have no interest in being alone now.

  He jumped up. Two flights of stairs later, he was at a guest room door. He knew Mia would give Nicola this one with its fancy private bathroom. Jared would get the other with the same layout. The rest of the grunts could share the hallway bathrooms.

  The sound of footsteps padding on the carpet caught his attention. He looked over his shoulder to see tiny Mia with her big pregnant belly smiling as if she knew what clamored around in his head. She was a therapist, after all, so maybe she understood this maze of emotion.

  She nodded toward Nicola’s door. “Are you going to knock?”

  That was the question, all right. He hadn’t mapped out what he’d say. Or if he’d knock. A compulsion had brought him to her door, but it hadn’t clued him in on the next steps. “Not sure.”

  “I think you should.”

  “You don’t know—”

  “I know enough, being that I’m a military therapist. Jared has no problem bouncing concerns off me.”

  Cash laughed. Mia Winters might be the only woman in the world who would square off against Jared. It happened a lot, even more now with her crazy hormones, though he’d never say that to her face. Watching Mia take on Jared was better than watching a Saturday night barroom brawl. And Mia won almost every time. She was the odds-on favorite.

  “Oh, I moved your stuff to the room next door. Adjoining doors, by the way.” Mia winked.

  He choked when he tried to swallow and didn’t know what to say. There was no way he’d sleep tonight. He’d been sweating another night under the same roof as Nicola. Now one flimsy door separated him from her bed. No way. No how. He wasn’t going to survive the night knowing she slept mere feet away.

  What would she wear to bed?

  Time to find out.

  Knock. Knock.

  No answer.

  Cash wasn’t going to let her ignore him, especially not when her clothing options, or maybe lack of, were on his mind. He knocked again. No answer. Cash turned the knob and walked in.

  Nicola emerged from her bathroom in a cloud of steam with a tiny towel wrapped around her chest that barely reached her thighs. Her cheeks were fresh and rosy, and her blonde hair dark and shower-wet. He choked, again, and whatever he wanted to say dissolved into the steamy air. She looked like a heaven-sent angel.

  “Cash!”

  “Sorry.” He put his hands up in surrender, but didn’t retreat, freezing in place, mesmerized by long legs and a scrunched-up, pissed-off face. The scent of lavender filled the room.

  He lowered his hands. “Can we chat?”

  “I’m in a towel.”

  “Don’t I know it, darlin’.” She clung tighter to the towel, as if Cash could will it off of her.

  “I need to get dressed. Get out of here.” She tried to shoo him away without releasing her grip on the towel.

  “Or I could get undressed. Even things out.” Whoops, probably not the right thing to say. He tilted his head, praying for her grin, knowing damn well he’d shed his gym threads quicker than she could say, “go ahead.”

  She smiled and gave a tame laugh that said he wasn’t a dead man. Thank God. “What do you want?”

  “You. Nicola Garrison.”

  Her hesitant smile faded, but her warm eyes spoke with a fire and sparkle. She didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Didn’t give him anything to work with other than the brightness in her glare.

  “Stop with the last name.”

  “No.”

  “I don’t want to be just another notch in your belt. I’m not one of your many conquests.” She smirked, and he made a mental note to give Rocco another round of hell for telling tales. Maybe this honesty bullshit would be the only way to figure things out.

  “No, you aren’t a conquest. You were my first love, and I’d thought you’d be my last. Anything after you was just killing time.”

  She turned away from him, fidgeting with a pair of earrings on the dresser. Her body looked strong, and the towel wasn’t hiding much. She cleared her throat. “Killing time until what?”

  “I had no idea.” He scrubbed a hand over his five o’clock shadow. “But now I know.” Silence. She didn’t say a word, and his heart combusted, falling to the hard floor in a fiery explosion.

  Her head dropped back, and she stared toward the crown molding. He took one step, then another. He had to save this moment. Had to save them.

  Cash placed his hands on her warm, freshly dried shoulders. She smelled delicate and felt silky, satiny, and so much better than he remembered. He slid his hands, shifting her hair over the spectacular slope of her neck and thumbed the nape, rubbing her muscles until a soft sigh drifted into the humid air and hung between them.

  Shivers erupted under his touch, and goose bumps rose. Chasing their path, he caressed her neck until she released another sigh.

  There was no hiding his arousal. He thought about it too late as she leaned back into him. Hell. He’d tell her—he’d show her—the truth. He was consumed by her.

  “I don’t want to be just another girl.”

  “You weren’t, and I promise, you aren’t.”

  “I’m confused. Concerned.”

  “Why?”

  “You hate what I do, and what I do is who I am,” she whispered over her shoulder.

  “That’s your hold-up?” He trailed a finger down her arm.

  “It was hard enough to walk away from you before, Cash. I can’t get mixed up with you again. It’s a recipe for heartache.”

  “I loved you once. You think I can’t again?”

  She sucked in a breath. His thoughts raced, dying to say something more, but having no idea what more there was to confess.

  Nicola’s towel dropped like it was lead lined, taking with it any coherent thought left in his brain. Seeing her gorgeous back trail down to her perfect ass, all he could do was feel the smoothness and strength of her body. He fanned his fingers down toward her waist. Hands on her hips, he spun her to face him. Studying every inch of her body, one thought detonated in his mind. Never just another girl.

  He traced her jaw, tilting her head up. Trusting eyes met his. She fingered the hem of his shirt, and he shrugged it off.

  “I need a shower. I should’ve…” He should’ve done a thousand things.

  “I’ll get in with you.”

  “You just—”

  “I don’t care—”

  He hushed her with a kiss as promising as he could make it. His hands knotted into her hair, and her mouth welcomed his. Cash tasted her sweet lips. A step forward and he crushed his body against hers, needing nothing but her.

  She sighed into the kiss. “Shower?”

  Taking her hands in his, he walked them into the bathroom. The fog on the mirror had started to fade, but the humidity and heat enveloped them. She turned the water on and stood naked by the cascading water, his image of perfection.

  Cash was suddenly aware of himself, of his history. His unworthiness. She deserved better than him. Rocco and Roman were right.

  “Cash?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You okay?”

  “I’m feeling guilty.”

  “That’s my line.” She smiled, warm and caring as an embrace.

  “It’s just…” He gestured toward the bathroom counter, like that was supposed to mean something.

  “Let’s take a shower. Kiss me like the years weren’t missing.” She stepped to him, pushed her bare breasts against his chest, and he almost moaned. He considered bartering for a ten second shower, then a long dive under the covers, but her lips met his, she hooked an arm around him, and they kissed into the shower. No bartering or negotiating needed.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Heat surrounded her. It wasn’t the hot water pouring down that made her feel wash-cycle dizzy. The granite-tiled wall of water jets
and the rain showerhead added to the mind-reeling moment. Cash was naked, gloriously large, broad, and overwhelming. His rolling pecs and biceps rippled as he moved. His muscles barely hid under the layer of golden, water-flecked skin. He locked her with a gaze that made her legs tremble. The knowing and depth in his eyes told the story of their past and made her heart bleed and her hands heavy.

  In this impossible moment, she existed in the midst of deliberate, tender kisses. The minty taste of his kiss flooded her mouth and melted away her hesitation in the way only a promise and a hope could. As Cash explored her throat, his stubble tickled the underside of her chin. This was more than she remembered. Deeper. A grown man on a mission. She teetered on the devastating edge of a Cash coma. She’d dissolve and slip down the drain, a puddle of the liquid fire burning through her veins.

  “Sweet girl,” wet lips whispered against her neck. Vibrations buzzed inside her, and her body responded with a desperate wetness that only Cash knew how to command.

  Nicola swayed forward, her hand finding balance on the rigid plane of his abdomen. Cash cupped her jaw, thumbs skimming over her cheeks.

  “You still with me, Nic?”

  Absolutely. She nodded, a lust-drunk smile slipping onto her face. “Still here.”

  “Good.”

  “Wait.” Pulling back, reaching for reality, she grabbed the shampoo bottle. “We’re in here for a reason.”

  “Nah. I’m here ’cause you’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen, and then you smiled.”

  Oh, the things he said to her. Heat flared in her cheeks, and she focused on action, rubbing a dollop of shampoo into a lather. She reached for his hair. Caring for him felt as natural as running kiss-first into the shower.

  Her fingers massaged in the soap. Lathered hair feathered under the water. Zips of sensation spiraled from her fingertips. Cash’s eyes closed. Sudsy, soapy water ran down his chiseled cheekbones and straight nose. All hints of the bruises were gone. His face was unmarred and unhurried.

  “I missed you, Cash.”

  The corners of his mouth turned up, not quite into a grin, just an acknowledgement of this perfect moment.