Finally Home (Home Series) (31 page)

BOOK: Finally Home (Home Series)
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She gave him a smile and shook her head. 

"Please tell me you're done."

He
studied her a moment.  "I can be."

"Please," she whispered.

He glanced briefly over her shoulder, seeing his mother and sister watching them, her mother as well.

"Let's go," he said, placing his hand on her back to guide her away from the room.  She stopped him, however, before they left the room and turned to wrap her arms around him.  He could feel a slight tremble in her body and slid his arms around her, leaning down to place his lips next to her ear, "what's wrong?  What did they say to you?"

"Nothing," she replied. 

He pulled back to look into her eyes and brushed his thumb over her cheek.

"Doesn't look like nothing," he said softly.

"I'll be fine, but I want to go home."

Well aware that their mothers were watching, Mike leaned down and gently kissed her, feeling her hand fist in his shirt.  When he pulled back, he was alarmed to see more tears in her eyes than before.

"Lainey...," he began but she stopped him.

"I'm fine.  Let's go," she said, stepping back from him.

This time, he tucked her hand into his arm and led her away.  They crossed through the house to the ballroom so he could let the rest of the team know he was leaving, then they silently went out and got in in his Escalade.

"Now, will you tell me what happened back there?" he asked once they were on the road.  She glanced at him briefly, then looked back out the window.  "Lainey, don't make me ask you again."

At that, a soft smile touched her lips.  "Or what, Commander?  Will you reprimand me?"

"Don't tempt me."

A soft laugh escaped her before she could stop it and she turned to look at him. 

"Your mother and Gia were telling me about how you were when you were released from the hospital."

He didn't speak for several moments.

"Coming home was difficult," he said finally.

"Your mother had a hard time seeing that you were hurting.  She wanted to touch you and hold you and -"

"I didn't want anyone touching me then.  My skin was hyper-sensitive, not because of injuries, per se, but just the memory of what was done."

"You let me touch you, to a point," she observed.

"Enough time has passed," he said simply.

"Has it?" she asked, looking back out the window.

They stayed quiet the rest of the short drive back to the loft.  When they pulled into the garage, Lainey waited for the garage door to shut behind them before opening her door, climbing out without waiting for him to help her.  He did stop her before she went to the elevator with a hand on her shoulder.  She forgot she was supposed to stay behind him whenever they approached a door.  They remained silent waiting for the elevator and on the ride up.  He stepped in first, holding his hand back to keep her inside the elevator while he did a quick sweep of the room.  She wondered if he really believed anyone could break into the fortress he'd built here, or if he was just being extra cautious. 

"I'll fix dinner," he said, surprising her, "go relax."

"I can help."

"I got it.  Half Italian, remember?  I like to cook.  My grandmother was a good cook, I paid attention."

She sighed and sat at the bar, feeling restless.  She didn't want to think about what had been done to him, how he'd come home broken to a family that he could no longer relate to.  Tears pooled in her eyes but she blinked them away.  He wouldn't want her pity.

"You probably haven't gotten to cook much over the years, though, have you?" she asked, watching him.

"Not really.  I'd cook for the guys at Zig and Melissa's whenever we were home...when she would let me."

That brought a smile to Lainey's face.  "She likes taking care of all of you.  She definitely wasn't what I was expecting."

"Never met anyone quite like her...eccentricities aside, she is very good at what she does.  She doesn't take no for an answer.  You need something, she can find it."

"She found Jenna one of those new PlayStations on Black Friday and got it for her at a discount, with just one phone cal
l from Riley, in less than 10 minutes," she said, watching him chop vegetables like a gourmet chef.  "You weren't kidding."

He paused and looked up at her.  "About what?"

"You're chopping that up like a chef on a TV show."

A dimple appeared in his cheek, making butterflies take flight in her stomach. 

"
Nonna
taught me well."

"What else do you like to do, other than cook and play the piano?  Did you play sports?"

"Soccer and lacrosse."

That surprised her, but then she remembered he went to school in Italy for a while.

"No football or baseball?"

"Played rugby
.  By the time I'd come to the states for school it was really too late for me to get into baseball."

"And you and Riley met at camp?"

"When we were fourteen," he shrugged, "we just hit it off, and stayed in touch.  Found out that our mothers knew each other so we got them to let us hang out."

"How long did you take piano lessons?"

"Twelve years...six to eighteen.  Took cotillion, too.  All the usual society stuff."

"Were you and Nick not close?"

"We were, don't get me wrong.  He's my twin, no one knew me better at one time.  We wanted different things when we went to college.  He went to Harvard.  I went to Yale.  I had Riley.  Nick had his circle of friends.  He absolutely couldn't wait to join Uncle Brad's law firm.  I knew I wanted something else."

"Why didn't you want to join the firm?"

He shrugged.  "Chandler, Casiano & Associates is a corporate law firm.  Business law is really boring.  I always had this sense that, I don't know, that there was something more for me.  That I could do something to make a difference.  Riley always knew he was going into the Navy.  The more he talked about it, the more I thought, yeah, this is what I want.  And we seriously did think we would go into the JAG Corp."

"But you signed up for SEALs training."

"SEALs teach you swimming in Basics.  They saw something in Riley and me and talked to us about signing up.  We talked it over for a few days and then decided to go for it."

"Do you ever regret it, considering all that happened to you?"

"No.  I would do it all again."

"Really?" she asked, surprised.

"We did accomplish some good things...and we went through nearly ten years of missions without losing a man, until that last one."

"But you'd all been hurt before?"

"Yeah, nature of the beast.  None bad, though.  Riley got caught in razor wire.  Colt went in to get him out and got his leg caught in it."

She laughed.  "Colt went in after Riley?"

"Don't let their jawing fool you.  Colt and Riley are close, too.  We are all close.  You can't go through the kind of stuff we did together and not form strong, lasting bonds.  Colt reminded Riley of his brothers."

"Oh, yes, he does.  Colt is a lot like Trevor.
"

He put the vegetables in a steamer, added pasta to boil and began preparing a
n alfredo sauce white wine.  His movements were so practiced, so perfect...she wondered if there was anything he did that he wasn't good at.  And she had to admit, it was a serious turn-on, watching him cook; those scarred hands moving quickly and efficiently.

"What about you?" he asked, placing a glass in front of her and filling it with wine.  "What did you do when you were younger?"

"I played softball at one time," she told him and she could see she'd surprised him.

"Really?"

She laughed, picking up her glass to take a sip.  "Don't act so surprised!  Just because I'm little doesn't mean I couldn't play sports."

He held his hands up defensively but she could see his eyes actually shining with mirth.

"I didn't say a word!"

"Yeah, but you were thinking it!" she said, eyes narrowed at him. "Anyway, yes, Kacee and I played softball.  She pitched and I was a catcher," she threw a wadded up paper towel at him when his eyes widened, "Stop that, Michael Casiano!  I grew up with Riley and his brothers, do you think I didn't know how to play sports??  I was a good catcher, too.  Had more runners caught stealing than any other catcher in my division."

"How many years did you play?"

"Through high school."

"I am impressed.  I would have thought you were more the cheerleader type."

She gave him a dry look.  "I was that, too."

He laughed then and she absolutely loved the sound. 

"A cheerleader and a catcher.  You are full of surprises, Ms. Riley."

"I went to high school in Texas, Mike.  Everyone wanted to be a cheerleader."

"Naturally...wasn't Kacee a cheerleader in college, too?"

"Yes."

"And were you?"

She sighed, bracing for his reaction.  "Yes."

"Well, now...seems like I've got the ultimate fantasy...blonde, Texas cheerleader."

"Just don't ask me to do any flips...haven't done those in six years."

"I bet you could.  Like riding a bike, isn't it?"

"Possibly.  But I'm not going to try it."

"Come on, you can do it."

"Not happening, Commander."

"Come on, please?" he asked and the look on his face was absolutely priceless to her, and she knew she was going to give in.  

"Man," she grumbled, getting off the stool and taking her shoes off.  Thankfully, his loft was plenty big enough for her to perform the stunts.  "All right, but if I hurt myself..."

"You won't," he said, coming around the bar and folding his arms over his chest to watch her.

Thinking she must be an idiot, she went to the far side of the room, got a running start and did several front hand springs, coming to a stop in front of him with a hop, adjusting her sweater, a big smile on her face.  Mike was laughing as he came to her, cupped her face in his hands and leaned down to kiss her.

"That was seriously hot," he said against her lips.

"I'm little but because of catching and tumbling, my thighs are strong...keep that in mind, Commander.  For future reference," she said, kissing him quickly, then stepping back, only to have him pull her back to him.

"Going somewhere?" he asked, towering over her.

"I need to..."

"Stay right where you are," he finished, sealing his lips over hers.
  She melted into him then, wrapping her arms around him when he deepened the kiss, clinging to him.

"
Mike," she whispered when he ended the kiss.

He kissed her one more time then released her to check on the food.
  Lainey stood still for a moment, catching her breath. She went back to the bar, pausing to put her shoes back on, then went to the sink to wash her hands. While her hands were still under the water, he came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning down to kiss her shoulder. 

"You smell nice," he said, his lips skimming up from her shoulder to her ear.

She smiled and looked up over her shoulder at him.

"You're much easier to be around when you aren't scowling at everyone all the time."

"I don't scowl all the time," he countered.

"You're scowling right now."

"Touche," he said, handing her a towel to dry her hands when she turned the water off.

The dinner he'd prepared had been beyond delicious.  Lainey was impressed with his cooking skills.  He was such a contradiction. 
Warrior.  Piano player.  Gourmet chef.  Hero.  She'd seen first hand the way Riley and the others on the team treated him; like he was a cross between their absolute best friend and Superman or something.  Now, because of what Mike had done for Sarah those months ago, Colt was even more devoted to him...and she could absolutely see it. 

They sat at the bar, eating the meal he'd prepared and just talking
about anything and everything.  Lainey found that the more she talked to him, the more she was falling for him.  Due to his career, he hadn't seen many of the TV shows she'd seen but he'd seen a lot of the movies she had, explaining that they had a lot of dead time, and well, Colt was a computer hacker.  He liked to read, was partial to Stephen King, which also surprised her.  She figured he'd like Tom Clancy.  He did, but then explained to her that he liked to read to escape and some of Clancy's work hit too close to home. 

"What about super hero movies?" she asked, leaning back in her chair.

"What about them?" he asked, refilling her wine glass.

"Do you like them?"

"Yeah, sure.  The Iron Man and Avengers movies were great."

"Really?"

"Lots of action.  Good writing.  Good effects."

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