What About Love (Club Decadence Book 6) (40 page)

As he observed, she wrinkled her nose against the loose tendrils of hair that fell across her face, having worked free sometime prior from the high ponytail at the back of her head. The rest of it hung long and lustrous across her neck and over her chest.

As he continued his perusal from there, he noticed her nipples standing out in hard relief against the thin cotton t-shirt she wore. She was chilled, the air in the room blowing down from a vent directly above her such that she’d curled on her side, her arms pressed close to her body and her hands tucked between her blue jean covered thighs.

He wanted nothing more than to scoop her up in his arms, carry her to bed and tuck her in, crawling in after to cuddle up with her and keep her warm. He should cover her, he thought, and shifted to sit up. As he did, a sharp pain shot through his shoulder.

“Fuck,” he hissed as he twisted his head, angling it down to the bulky white bandage covering his shoulder, chest and most of his arm.

“A mere flesh wound my ass,” a sleep husky voice purred. He looked around to find Angie perched on the edge of the chair watching him. “Do you need something for pain?”

He shook his head. “No, it was the sudden movement. It’s easing off.” His voice was dry and raspy. Without asking, she got up and poured him some water from a pink pitcher. “How did I get here? And where exactly is here?”

“You’re at County Hospital in San Antonio. You don’t remember?”

He shook his head, stilling abruptly as the movement jarred his wound. “Last thing I recall was you patching me up.”

“You’d lost a lot of blood.” The frown was back. “You had no business finishing the mission with a bullet in your shoulder, you know?”

“We got the kids out?”

“Yes, you were the only one wounded.” She shrugged with a grimace, and corrected that statement. “On our side that is.”

“That proves I had every business going in.” He closed his eyes, feeling suddenly tired. “And when we got out, what happened?”

“We arrived stateside at 2 a.m. and they took you immediately into surgery to remove the bullet. It’s almost noon, now.”

“I lost a lot of time.”

“That’s from the blood loss. They’ve transfused quite a bit back. Rest,” she urged softly, taking the cup from his hand. “You’ll feel better when you wake up again.”

His eyes popped back open, meeting hers. “Will you stay with me, darlin’?” He waited for her reply, but it didn’t come. “Angie?” he prodded weakly, reaching for her with his uninjured arm.

He felt her hand in his and a moment later the coolness of her other one upon his cheek. It moved upward over his forehead, lying flat for a moment as if checking for fever, as his mother had when he was a kid. It felt nice and he surrendered to the pull of sleep.

While he was drifting off, he felt her lips, light and soft, brush against his own as she whispered, “I love you, T.” Warmed by that reassurance, he relaxed into the drug-induced oblivion that beckoned him. His heart lurched the next moment when he thought he heard her add, “But I can’t stay, baby. It hurts too much.” He struggled to open his eyes, but was too far gone to respond as the blackness consumed him once again.

*****

As if swimming up from the dark, murkiness of a deep sea dive, he opened his eyes. This time he knew where he was instantly, recognizing the same hospital room. Searching for Angie in the bedside chair where he’d last seen her, he found his mother in her place.

Her face drawn with concern, she moved toward him and wrapped her fingers around his forearm. “Tonio,” she murmured. “How are you feeling,
bello
?”

“Where’s Angie?”

A pained look crossed her face as her eyes darted away.

“Ma?”

“She left a while ago, after you woke the first time.”

“I remember, vaguely.” His hand came up to rub his forehead, his good one, although with all the tubes attached to him, it wasn’t easy. A strange sense of foreboding swept through him as he tried to recall their brief interaction before he drifted off again. It came back to him as swift and painful as the bullet that had seared his shoulder. Shifting back to his mother, dread filled him as he saw tears ready to overflow.

“Where is she?”

“She’s packing for L.A., I imagine. She told me she has a flight out later today.”

“Hell,” he muttered, a stab of pain not remotely related to his shoulder, assailing his heart.

“What happened? Did you fight? You were so happy and at ease with each other last Sunday, and when we had lunch.”

“Yes, lunch. I heard all about lunch.” His eyes narrowed on her.

“I know I shouldn’t have.”

“No, Ma. That was private and not yours to tell, but I get it. She’s a skilled detective.”

“What does that have to do with it?”

“She’s a trained interrogator and can be quite persuasive.”

“Is that what this is about?” She gaped at him a moment, then began to sob. “Oh, Antonio. This is my fault. She didn’t want me to tell. Tried to stop me in fact.”

“Ma—”

“She practically begged me, but I didn’t. You know how I get. I’m so sorry,
mio caro
, but I’m grieving too, even with all this time passed.” She wiped at her tears with the back of her hand, then leaned forward, meeting his gaze intently. “You’re right, Tonio, your Angie, she is quite skilled, but in listening and being a supportive shoulder. If you want to be angry at someone,
figlio
, be angry with me. Not that precious girl. And if you let her walk out of your life, for something that is my fault, I’ll never forgive myself.”

He lay there for a several long moments, listening to the internal struggle that had been going on inside his head since he met Angie. As he lay in a bed similar to the one she had lain in not so long ago while he kept vigil, he imagined life without her. Back then, he didn’t know her as he did now. He hadn’t woken beside her with her soft warm body snuggled against his, hadn’t heard her laughter, watched her smile, or felt her gentle touch. And he hadn’t felt the power of her submission, tasted the sweetness of her kisses, or sank into the heat of her body. To give that up out over an irrational fear that history could possibly repeat itself was crazy, and as she had accused him of being, cowardly.

He pushed back the covers and sat up at the side of the bed.

“What are you doing? Lie back down.”

“I’m going to stop her, Ma.”

“You just had a bullet dug out of your shoulder, Antonio.” His mother’s usually mellow voice was becoming shrill with alarm.

“I’m fine. But if I let her walk out of my life, I’ll be the one who never forgives myself.”

“You can’t possibly drive. You’re on morphine.” As she pointed this out, he ripped the IV out of his arm. She gasped. “
Santa Maria, Madre de Dio
.”

“Stop praying and drive me, Ma. Or call me a cab, because I’m going to get her back.”

Chapter Thirty

At the loud knock on her door, Angie glanced up at the clock. The cab was twenty minutes early. Pressing down on her old hard shell suitcase that her mother had given her in college, she latched it and dragged it along to the living room dreading the overage charge she’d be facing. Setting it next to the other one and her rolling carryon bag by the door, she took another look around. Megan would see that the rest of her things were sent on when she settled.

She blinked back tears, sparing another glance around the front room of the place she’d called home for the past five years, as she pulled open the door.

“I’ll need help with my bags.”

“I don’t think so,” a gruff voice replied.

Her head came up sharply and she peered in shock at the man on the other side of her screen. Behind him, she saw Sophia’s silver Mercedes pull away from the curb.

“T? What on earth are you doing here? Shouldn’t you still be in bed, in the hospital?”

He was through the door, his big frame crowding her so that her choice was either step back and let him in or get crushed. After slamming the security door shut with a booted heel, he advanced on her.

“Were you leaving without saying goodbye?”

“I—”

“That’s a cowardly thing to do, don’t you think?” he challenged softly.

As he threw her own accusation back at her, she stiffened. Her mouth snapped shut, although only for a moment. Then she got ticked. “I’m not running away. That’s your style. I’m transferring to a better job.”

“Bullshit.” Another of her challenges was flung back in her face, as he took a step closer, into her space. She backed up as much.

“Although I’ve done a perfect impression of one these past few months, I’m not an idiot, T.” As she replied, she tried to stay calm. Backing up again, she kept pace with each forward move he made as he essentially stalked her across her living room. “Tell me something repeatedly and it eventually gets through.”

“What about love, Angie? Is this how you show it?”

She jerked. Once more, the exact words she’d hurled at him, hurt as they were returned.

“You said you loved me, little bit. Way back when you were bleeding out beneath my hands on the courthouse steps.”

She gasped, stumbling as she skirted around the sofa table while retreating. “That was real? I thought I dreamed it.”

“Yeah, it was real.” Taking another step, he came up against her. “As real as when you whispered it in my ear a few hours ago.” Her eyes shot to his. Having reached the back of the couch, she had no retreat left. He pushed his advantage. “So I’ll ask again, is this how you act when you love someone? You give up? With only three measly attempts? That’s weak Hixson.”

Ready to put significant distance between them, she attempted to move around the couch, one they’d made love on, often, but he caught her arm, his fingers warm and strong against her bare skin. Despite all that had gone on between them, her body quickened, burning at his touch.

“Every time I tried to show it you pushed me away!”

Enough was enough. She wrenched her arm free and moved around the end of her kickass sofa. With it between them, she wheeled back to face him. Fight or flight had kicked in when she saw him on the other side of her door. Flight was clearly ineffective, now it was time to dig in and fight.

“I can’t take it, T. From one minute to the next I don’t know what you’ll do. First you want me, the next minute you don’t. You take off for three months without so much as a word and when you come back you get pissy that I’m with someone else. You’re like a kid who gets the toy they’ve been begging for at Christmas, but after you play with it for a few minutes you’re done with it.” She leaned in, poking a finger in his chest every so often to emphasize her words. “Your moods change so fast I’m getting freakin’ whiplash. So, if protecting myself against that kind of pain makes me a coward, so be it.”

“Mom came by the hospital.”

Startled by this random statement, she stilled. “I know. I saw her.”

“We talked. She told me that it was her, not you who insisted on rehashing the past. I’m sorry, baby.”

Seeing the earnest regret in his face her resolved softened. Then shook her head. “Thank you for that, but it’s too late. I told you a long time ago, T. I don’t want to merely play, I want the whole enchilada. And I want a man that wants that too. Marriage, kids, a house, a life together. I can’t have that with you, no matter how badly I want it.”

“I want it too.”

She felt hope blossom in her chest, but it died out as quickly having been burned too many times before. “Why the sudden change of heart?”

“I don’t want to lose you, Angie.”

Lowering her gaze, she hesitated as a tumble of conflicted emotions whirled through her head. “What’s to stop you from changing your mind again when things get too close for comfort?” Not waiting for an answer, she tried to put more distance between them before she broke down into a blubbering weak willed mess at his feet. She hadn’t taken two steps when he pulled her back hard. She slammed against his chest.

“Your shoulder!”

“Its fine, thanks to you, Angie. You saved my life. Cap said the shooter had me dead to rights. Your shot made his non-fatal.”

Frozen for an instant, she was helpless to cease the wave of hurt and anger that swept through her. Looking up at him, she gestured between them. “So is that what this is about? Gratitude? I save you and all of a sudden you want me out of some misplaced need to repay a debt. No thanks. Reparations aren’t necessary. I’m very happy you’re alive, T. That’s enough for me. You can mark this one paid in full.” She twisted free and somehow made it past him, walking toward the front door as the cab outside honked its horn. “I’ve got to go. I’ll miss my flight.”

“Dammit.” He caught her by the waistband of her jeans and hauled her back. “That’s not it, not at all.”

Staring up into his troubled eyes, his image blurred as tears beaded on her lashes. She wiped them away impatiently. “Then what is this, T? What are you doing other than confusing the hell out of me?”

He drew her against him, bending his head close and murmuring with raw emotion. “I’m a complete shit, Angie. I know that. But I’ve never felt like this with any woman. Not even—”

“Emily?”

“Yeah.” His dark, solemn eyes sought hers. “She broke me. Dead in the grave with the boy I thought was my son, her betrayal cut deep.”

“I know and I can’t imagine how painful that was, but that doesn’t discount the fact that I’m not her, T. You’ve painted women with her brush for so long, I don’t think you can tell the difference.”

“I know the difference. I’ve felt the difference, Angie. I see that now.”

“What’s to prevent you from dumping me a fourth time?”

“Trust. And my vow to never do that to you, or to us, again.”

“I don’t know. I’d be crazy to give you the chance to crush me again.” She dropped her eyes, unable to hold his unwavering gaze. That wouldn’t do for him. His hands came up on either side of her head, angling it back so she had no choice except to look at him.

“I know I really fucked this up. I swear, I want what you want. I did all those years ago. I was never a wandering man, but I was lost back then and the Army gave me an out when things were simply too painful to stay. Home is Texas, with family, friends, the farm, my horses, and you, Angie. You feel like home to me and made me realize how much I was missing by shutting my heart away. I’m ready to fight to have that again, with you.”