Skin Deep (8 page)

“Don’t,” she whispered back. She touched his cheek, seeming to know his doubt and pain.

He thrust deep again. “Feel me, Erin.” His voice cracked. “I’m not Nebraska. I never will be, but when we’re like this, don’t shut me out. Keep your eyes open.” Don’t imagine Nebraska is still alive and fucking you, he finished silently.

Chapter Five

Erin rolled away from Hotch when they’d finished. What they’d done couldn’t really be called lovemaking since it had been more about marking territory than anything else. He felt a little sick about it, but he’d made sure she’d come before he let himself go.

From her breathing and the tension in her body, he could tell she wasn’t sleeping.

“Sex isn’t a weapon,” she said almost too quietly.

“I don’t want to share you with a memory,” he answered.

She rolled to face him. “That’s a little futile, don’t you think? You can’t tell me there are women you’ve slept with that you never think about again. Especially if they meant a lot to you.”

He controlled his expression. “I don’t think about them when I’m with you. I think about you.”

“Yet you suppose I’m weaker somehow? Like I’m incapable of seeing you, feeling you
inside my body
, and knowing who’s in there? That’s the most patronizing, shitty thing I’ve ever heard.”

“You were going to marry him. I’m always going to be that other guy you slept with and got pregnant by.”

“Is this guilt?” she asked, narrowing her eyes as her gaze darted over his face in the semi-darkness.

“It’s fact.”

“Your facts are fucked up, Hotch.”

He rolled to his side, not wanting to talk anymore. “Good night, Erin.”

“Are you kidding me? You start the subject and you get to close it when you’re finished? I don’t think so. Roll over and talk to me.”

“It’s late.”

She pushed his shoulder. “Really? This is your idea of spending the week getting to know each other and see where things go?”

“I get tired after sex. Now you know something about me.”

Erin made a sound of frustration. She planted her feet on his back and shoved him to the floor. “Here’s something about me. If you aren’t going to fix what you broke, get the hell out of my bed.”

“This is
my
bed,” he argued from the carpet.

“Not when the members of the house have a two thirds vote, buddy.”

Hotch snatched a pillow and the comforter off the bed and hit the living room. He tried to curl up on the couch but his larger frame made it a challenge. Giving up, he brought his laptop over, turned on the living room lamp, and kept reading the journal.

If anyone knew how to get Erin out of a funk, it had to be Nebraska. He had to have messed up with her once or twice. He wasn’t perfect.

About an hour and a half later, he decided Nebraska had been perfect. He’d finished the journal and not once had Nebraska mentioned a disagreement with her, or needing to curry favor. Hotch closed the laptop and put it aside. He dropped his head in his hands. This sucked. He could almost feel the hostility radiating down the hall toward him.

Toby fussed. Hotch wrapped the comforter around himself and walked to Toby’s room. He soothed the sleeping boy until he quit whimpering, then tucked the blanket around Toby’s waist, keeping it away from his nose and mouth for safety. Hotch watched him for a long time, finding peace in the way Toby slept on, trusting that all would be taken care of, that all the bad dreams could be wiped away with a hushing sound and a light back rub.

“If only it were that easy,” he whispered, thinking of the rift forming between him and Erin. “I’m sorry I’m not Nebraska. He’d have been a great father. You got the guy who has to figure it all out and hope he doesn’t screw up your life.”

Hotch dropped a kiss on Toby’s temple. Toby sighed, jammed a fist in his mouth and suckled noisily in his sleep. Hotch chuckled. Toby and Erin were worth the effort, her reminded himself. He’d try to talk to her tomorrow.

According to Nebraska, she responded to honest conversation. Hotch had grown up keeping his feelings inside. Maybe it was time to change. For Erin. For Toby. It was possibly the most difficult and dangerous mission he’d been on yet. God, he just hoped he made it out the other side without losing her.

* * * *

Something woke him the next morning. The vague aural memory of a chime had him searching his brain for an answer, when it chimed again. The door.

Hotch got up and stumbled to the door. He unlocked it and swung it open. Commander Hawking stormed passed him, his gaze raking over Hotch’s home as though he was intensely displeased. When his eyes settled on Hotch again, a look of rage entered his expression.

Belatedly, Hotch remembered being kicked out of bed for the couch. He hadn’t taken any clothes with him, and he still stood as naked as the day he was born. Well, fuck decorum. If the CO was going to barge into his home during off-duty, he got what he should expect.

“Dad?” Erin muttered sleepily behind him.

Oh, yeah, there was the fact that her father wouldn’t miss his nakedness while his daughter strolled into the room. Hotch held his ground, though. It wouldn’t do to show the Commander any fear. He’d use it.

“I told you to stay away from my daughter,” Hawking snarled.

“Sir, Toby’s my son. You must’ve noticed the resemblance before you asked me to stay away.”

“Dad’s never met Toby,” Erin stated calmly.

Hotch lifted his brows in surprise. “Why not?”

“He’s embarrassed by me and my son is an extension of that, isn’t that right, Dad?”

“You getting pregnant by a random man doesn’t make him my grandson,” Hawking snapped.

“He’s a Navy SEAL. Just like his old man and his grandpa.” Erin came into view and saluted her father with a smirk.

“Are you
trying
to antagonize him?” Hotch asked sharply.

“Why not? He antagonizes me all the time. Or he used to, back when he let me visit. Back before he and Mom split.”

“We split because of you.”

Erin’s face fell. “What?”

“Your mother put up with all your little indiscretions. But they were
my
men. Not hers. Not yours. You deliberately attempted to undermine my authority.”

Hotch’s head swam. He had so many questions. But suddenly the picture of blame Hawking bestowed on his daughter made it a little less foggy. For a moment, Hotch wanted to wash his hands of the whole family. But there was Toby. Toby deserved more than a dysfunctional family and an absent father.

“You two try not to tear each other apart. I’m going to go put some clothes on,” Hotch told them. “The coffee maker is already set to make, just hit the timer button and set it off early. I think we could all use the caffeine this morning.”

Hotch tried to shake the cobwebs from his brain as he walked to the master bedroom. Nebraska had only briefly mentioned the animosity between Erin and her father. Nothing specific, but from what Hotch had seen, it was brewing on a much more sophisticated timer than his coffee maker.

He pulled on his underwear and a pair of loose sweats. Checking on Toby, Hotch hit on an idea. He woke Toby, changed him, and cuddled his sleepy warm body against his chest as he made his way back to the kitchen and living room area.

Hawking and Erin stood in stony silence, steaming mugs in their hands that neither of them lifted. Hotch headed for Hawking, took the mug from the commander, and pushed Toby into his grandfather’s arms.

Hawking looked down at the boy-bundle, confusion and vague horror on his face.

“Commander Hawking, meet Toby. Your grandson,” Hotch said.

Erin folded her arms across her chest. She seemed to be holding back a string of cuss words if her expression was any indication. Hotch put his arm around her. He figured she wouldn’t shrug him off with her dad watching. She’d want them to appear as though they were a solid front, not that Hawking was right about their relationship being just a quickie behind the bar.

His bet paid off. She didn’t flinch. They stood side by side near the commander.

“For better or worse, we’re family. Don’t you think it’s about time we started behaving like one?” Hotch said.

“For better or worse?” Hawking looked up sharply.

“Yeah, Dad, Hotch proposed to me.”

Hotch eyed her warily. She’d also turned him down, but didn’t tell her dad that.

“I told you to stay away. Even with a kid, you were given an order,” Hawking snapped.

“You have no authority over my personal life when it doesn’t affect the mission.”

“You’re fucking my daughter. You don’t think that affects your standing on my team?” Hawking spat. “Or has my daughter’s insubordination worn off on you?”

Erin quietly seethed beside Hotch. Hotch stepped dropped his arm and stepped protectively in front of her. “Sir, a child has the privilege of not being subject to subordination. She has the privilege of being heard, something you pride yourself on among your team. Doesn’t she deserve at least that much respect?”

“Respect?” her dad shouted.

Toby wailed.

Hotch rescued Toby and absently snuggled him as he rubbed his son’s back. “Sir, you’re upsetting my son. Take it down a notch or leave.”

She looked at Hotch, as though seeing him for the first time. He was everything Nebraska had said he was. He was brave, strong, confident, sure. He was also what Nebraska had failed to mention in his notes: He had the capacity to love deeper than he seemed to acknowledge. That’s what had frustrated her so much the night before. In that light, it had driven her nuts. But in light of seeing him with Toby as the protective father, standing by her side and fighting her fight? Hotch amazed her.

“Are you telling your Commanding Officer to stand down?” Her father bellowed.

Erin’s pulse leaped. She hated it when her dad yelled, but yelling by her baby and yelling at Hotch, it felt like the fledgling walls of her little family would crumble at any moment. Dad had been this angry with her the day she left home.

“Respectfully, I am, sir,” Hotch answered calmly.

“He won’t listen,” Erin interrupted. “He never has where I’m concerned.”

“You slept with my team,” her father thundered.

Erin put a shaking hand on Hotch’s arm as she stepped around him to face off with her father. Hotch stayed alert, apparently ready to defend her if she needed it. Erin stood strong, but her father was a battleaxe of a commanding officer who fathered the way he led. Over the years, she’d seen the bravest men back down in the face of his fury.

It was time for a little honesty, she decided.

“You’re right, Dad. When I was eighteen, I wanted to piss you off. You never listened to me and mom. You don’t think I knew that you blamed her for not giving you a son? I knew. How could I not? You looked at Skins with the pride of a father, the way Hotch looks at Toby. But you never saw me that way.”

Hotch shot her a sidelong glance, but she kept her attention on her father. She’d explain to Hotch later how great she thought he was.

“You slept with my team,” her dad emphasized. “What kind of respect did you think that would garner, young lady?”

“I was eighteen. That may be the reason you choose to keep me at a distance, but it doesn’t explain why you waited those eighteen years to form an opinion of me and then latched onto the first negative thing I offered up.”

“You certainly offered up a lot. I heard them talk about you, Erin.” Her father’s voice rasped with emotion and his gaze flicked away.

To a man like her father his pride and his authority were everything. She knew that she’d struck a blow all those years ago. It wasn’t until now, when she had a child of her own, that she thought she finally understood.

“I’m sorry I hurt you, Dad,” Erin whispered. “Mom and I tried to hold it together when you were gone. But when you were home—Dad, you still weren’t
here
.”

“I put a roof over your heads and made sure you have everything you needed to lead a good life,” he protested gruffly.

“Except you, Dad. We didn’t have you.” She turned to Hotch. “You’re an amazing guy, Hotch. You really are, but you SEALs are married to your lives in the military. I watched my parents’ marriage fall apart because of the stress, and I experienced what it’s like to be a by-blow of an absent naval officer and a civilian. I want more for Toby.”

“The Navy has good marriages too, Erin,” Hotch pointed out. “Your experience sucked. I can see how bad it hurt you, but we aren’t your parents.”

“How blind are you? At least my parents started out in a loving marriage. You’re asking me to marry you when we don’t even have that much in common?” she asked in disbelief.

“I
do
love you,” Hotch contradicted.

Erin sighed. She rubbed her forehead. “You might. You’ve fallen in love with your son and because he’s part of me, I can understand that you’d love me for bringing him into the world. In love the way two people need to be in order to have a lasting relationship with that child, isn’t the same thing.”