Between Breaths (The Seattle Sound Series Book 2) Page 8

  “You’re not staying here with that cat.”

  “I have to. I promised Rosie I’d look after her.”

  I folded my arms over my chest. “That’s a promise you’ll have to break for your own safety. Cats carry bacteria in their claws. A scratch can be dangerous.”

  “I’ve heard the song,” Briar said, laughing. “‘Cat Scratch Fever,’ right?” She stood and washed her hands before carefully wrapping the food and putting the plate back in the fridge.

  “You irritate me, woman.”

  “Lia will be proud I haven’t lost my touch. You want something to eat? I know you’re hungry.”

  “Here? With the spawn of Satan on the prowl?”

  “Princess isn’t that bad.”

  I raised my eyebrow and Briar wilted.

  “Okay, she is. I think she’s freaking out that her mom’s gone and I left her alone all day . . . That’s a lot for any dependent to handle.”

  “You realize you’re rationalizing a cat’s behavior?”

  “We can order some takeout or I can try to cook something,” Briar said, looking with nervous anticipation around the kitchen.

  I chuckled. “Seeing as how I can’t make mac and cheese—I’m talking the microwave kind—I’m not about to complain about your lack of culinary skills.”

  Briar smiled. “Oh, another domestically challenged person. You have no idea how happy that makes me. Lia’s a kitchen whiz.”

  “Those people are such show-offs.”

  “I dial a mean Chinese. That okay with you? Or maybe Thai? Hmm, then again we had Korean for lunch—pizza?”

  “I love pizza. Anything on it is great. Well, not squid. Or broccoli. Got any beer?”

  Briar called in an order. She walked back to the shredded couch with a cold can, which she handed me.

  “Asher told me to get this kind. I like to drink lager with my pizza. Reminds me of my dad.”

  I settled back onto the surprisingly comfortable cushion and popped open the can.

  “Cheers.” I took a long swallow. Jet lag settled over me.

  “When did you get into town?”

  “Yesterday. Why?”

  “You’re going to crash hard,” Briar said with a frown. “Your body’s still all messed up from crossing so many time zones.”

  I pulled her down and into my side. “Not till after I eat Seattle’s best pizza, though.”

  The beer probably wasn’t a good idea, but the talk with my mum lay heavy on my mind. Sucking the cold brew down, I managed three slices of the pie, fascinated by the weird toppings.

  “What’s on it again?”

  “Mortadella, nettle pesto, and pistachios.”

  “Only thing I’ve heard of on that list is pistachios.”

  “They’re good,” Briar said as she munched her second piece.

  “Is this the kind of pizza your dad ate?”

  She inhaled to laugh but choked instead. She set the pizza down, struggled to catch her breath. After a sip of beer, she said, “No way. He loved meat.”

  “Good man, your dad.” I yawned hard enough to bring tears to my eyes.

  “Yes, he was. A very good man.”

  “You miss him heaps. Still.”

  She nodded, her eyes darkening with an old pain. That I understood all too well. I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t help cupping her far cheek and settling her head onto my chest. I rubbed the ends of her silky, chocolate-colored hair between my fingers just like I’d wanted to all day.

  “Your hair reminds me of a mink. I always liked those animals. Like the color on your head more though.”

  “Flatterer.”

  “Not so much. Just tell it as I see it.”

  “My dad used to say that.”

  She nestled in a little closer, and I could just make out the rapid blinking of her lashes. Damn, she was going to cry. I was very uncomfortable with tears.

  “My dad liked to play really esoteric composers,” I blurted. “Weird, almost nonmusical music. I hated it, would cover my ears. He told me I didn’t have an ear for minor progressions.”

  “Is that true?”

  “I was seven at the time. But I matured and learned the importance of tension in a piece. Just not as much as my dad preferred. Music should speak to the listener, not bash her over the head.”

  Her chuckle was watery, but I’d take it.

  I closed my eyes. When she slid her arms around my waist, contentment and sleep washed over me.

  Chapter 12

  Briar

  I didn’t have the heart to wake him. I cleaned up our dinner, putting the leftovers into the fridge, then brushed my teeth while I debated what to do with Hayden. He couldn’t sleep on the couch. Besides it being too short, half the stuffing was now missing, making it way too uncomfortable for an extended lie-down.

  Princess was curled in a corner in the small dining nook. She blinked open an eye when I tiptoed back to the bedroom, hoping she’d let Hayden sleep for a while longer. I put on my shorts and cami set. While not overly revealing, the outfit was soft, and the hot pink was a good color for me.

  But when I came out of the bathroom, face washed and hair tied up for sleep, I gave in to the inevitable: he’d stay the night.

  I’d only fantasized about it three thousand times today. Thank goodness I’d made time earlier this week for a haircut, waxing, and mani/pedi. I’d stewed in self-pity in Rathdrum, letting every part of me fall into disrepair. The timing for my beauty salon overhaul couldn’t have been better.

  Not that I expected Hayden to—screw it, I did want him to make love to me. Lying wouldn’t change the yearning building in my core and spiraling out toward my breasts.

  I padded back down the hall, keeping my distance from Princess. She rumbled from her corner but didn’t try to shred my leg. Progress.

  I slid my hip next to Hayden on the couch, and ran my finger down his nose and over his firm top lip. His warm breath slid across my hand, and I moaned. He was sinfully good-looking. His lashes rested on his cheeks, as sun-kissed as his hair. I leaned in, noticing a few faint freckles on each cheek. I bit my lip and turned away, barely resisting the urge to fan my overheated cheeks.

  Who knew freckles were so sexy?

  “Hayden?” I said, keeping my voice soft, soothing.

  “Mmm.”

  “Hayden, come on. Time for bed.”

  His lashes fluttered, his pupils dark and large, nearly overpowering the lighter brown of his irises as his eyes opened. “Shit. I fell asleep.”

  I smiled, amused as he ran a hand over his face. “You’ve been out for a while.”

  “You should’ve woken me. I need to get back.” His fingers were in his hair, tousling the waves.

  “Well, I put on my pajamas now, so you’ll just stay here. With me. If that’s okay.”

  “Is there a bed?”

  “Yes, I have a bed.”

  “Great.”

  He wasn’t completely awake so I offered him my hand, helping him up off the sagging couch. He stumbled around the coffee table and bounced off the wall as I led him down the hall to the only bedroom. I bit my tongue to keep from laughing.

  “Bathroom’s in there,” I said, pulling him forward. “I put out a toothbrush for you. I found a new one in one of Rosie’s drawers.”

  He nodded, blinking, then yawned. His jaw popped and his Adam’s apple was more visible as he stretched.

  “Brush your teeth.”

  “Right-o.”

  I clambered into the bed and turned on my e-reader. I listened with half an ear to Hayden’s pre-bed ritual, and I wondered what it’d be like to brush our teeth together sometime. That thought led to another: us, getting ready to go out. Ken used a completely separate bathroom—the master one, natch. But with Hayden, I imagined him watching me brush my hair and maybe coat my lashes with mascara, enjoying the sight as we prepared for a night out together.

  Thinking like that was crazy. I barely knew the man. Shame built in my chest because I w
as being ridiculous.

  There was a difference between opening myself up to other people, helping them through their time of need, and leaping into a doomed relationship.

  Besides, he might have a girlfriend. Crap.

  After another couple of minutes of silence, I slid out of bed and knocked on the bathroom door.

  “Hayden?”

  “Unh?”

  “You okay.”

  “Sure.”

  “Ready to come out and get in bed?”

  “Mmm hmm.”

  “I’m opening the door.”

  “Yep.”

  I opened the door to find him leaning against the counter. He’d brushed his teeth, splashed water on his face if his wet lashes were any indicator. I smiled, surprised he was still so out of it.

  “Need to do anything else?” I asked.

  He glanced around the room, his eyes unfocused.

  “Never mind.”

  I led him to the edge of the bed and sat him there while he watched me with owlish eyes. I unzipped his boots and pulled them off, setting them next to the door.

  “Jeans on or off?”

  “What?”

  “How do you sleep?”

  “In my boxers.”

  “So jeans off.”

  “Right-o.”

  I undid the snap and zipper. I bit my lip as I slid the pants off his lean hips and down his long, toned legs. A rolling line of music disappeared into the waistband of his boxer-briefs. I studied the black ink, my breathing escalating. Holy hell. That was sexy.

  “Do you have a girlfriend?”

  I folded his jeans into quarters and set them on the chair. I tugged off his socks and then yanked at the back of his T-shirt. He lifted his arms. He was tan everywhere. That sun-kissed look most of us Northwesterners never get because we lack sunlight and vitamin D.

  He flopped back onto the bed, rolling onto his side, arm pushing under the pillow. Crap, he was going to be right up against me.

  “Hayden, about that girlfriend.”

  “No girlfriend. No interest. No time.”

  Well. I’d asked, and he’d told me.

  Chapter 13

  Hayden

  I woke in the dark hour before dawn. My arm tingled from lack of circulation. A warm body was draped across my chest, hair tickling my nose.

  Son of a bitch. I’d slept with some woman, and I couldn’t remember any of it. That was low, even for me. I inhaled, trying to stave off frustration. A familiar scent filled my nose. I smoothed my hand down the woman’s back, surprised to feel soft cotton over her sleep-warmed skin. A sigh of relief flooded my lungs. Briar.

  Though I didn’t remember much from last night after drinking a second beer, some glimpses of memories came back to me. She helped me to bed. That was it. Good. I’d hate to have no recollection of my first time with Briar.

  She felt perfect, her breasts against my chest. I ignored the pinpricks shooting up my arm. I rubbed my free hand back up her spine. She sighed as she snuggled in closer.

  My hand was at the base of her neck, the skin there so soft and delicate under my fingers. I cupped the back of her head, loving the way she fit against me.

  Loud purring echoed through the room.

  I glanced around, confused by the invisible Harley revving. But no, the noise came from the cat. Princess or Angel or some stupid name that embarrassed the hell out of the animal and gave the cat a complex. The name alone explained half its aggressive pissy-ness.

  The cat jumped lightly onto the foot of the bed, and I tensed. Her blue-gray fur ruffled as she walked with all the sedate grace of a runway model up the side of the bed. Her whiskers twitched as she licked her thin kitty lips. I pulled Briar tighter into my embrace before I freed my arm closest to the beast.

  We glared at each other, Briar between us. Somehow the purring got louder. Crikey, it was as many decibels as a jetliner.

  Eyes still fixed on me, the cat lifted one soft, slightly fluffy paw and touched Briar’s shoulder. I waited. The cat cocked its head and pushed with its paw again.

  She added a soft mmrrrooww. Briar mumbled something, throwing her leg over my hip, snuggling closer.

  I bit back a moan. Helluva way to wake up. Soft woman draped over my sex-starved equipment while the rest of my body was tensed against an imminent hellion attack.

  The cat leaned its head down, eyes never leaving mine, and licked Briar’s shoulder, the rough rasp of her tongue loud in the quiet room.

  “What?” Briar cried out, her whole body bowing.

  I scrambled out from under her before my dick took a beating.

  “I’m feeding the cat.”

  “It’s dark.”

  I smirked. Not a morning person then. I pressed her head back into the pillow, smoothing the hairs back from her warm cheek. “Sleep, Sweet Briar. I got this.”

  She settled back into the bed and her eyes slid shut, body relaxing into the mattress.

  The cat exploded into a ball of angry hissing and batting paws. I lunged forward as Briar cried out, body curling into a protective posture as the cat pounced, back arched, spitting her anger.

  I managed to get my hands under her fluffy belly. I could feel each of her ribs. Poor kitty. She was hungry. Really hungry. Briar said the cat wouldn’t eat for the neighbor who was supposed to be feeding her. Even now, she struggled to get to Briar, the kind woman who fed her, talked to her, and probably reminded her of her owner. I ran from the bedroom.

  Damn. All of us, even this blasted cat, were just looking for a connection. Someone to love.

  The cat continued to hiss and meow until I started humming. I cuddled the cat against my chest as she shuddered, turning those big, guileless sapphire eyes up to me.

  Sweet hell, I was falling for a cat. A cat that didn’t even belong to the woman I wanted to sleep with. I was in so far over my head.

  “Salmon coming up for Her Majesty.”

  The cat curled around my arm like a python, and purred loud enough to break apart the walls.

  I gave Princess twice as much of the salmon as Briar tossed in her bowl the night before, adding some of the dry food I found in the pantry. Of course, smart kitty that she was, Princess munched on the salmon, her tail twitching with pleasure.

  “Got it, love. You like a big brekkie. Does set the tone for the day, eh? Now to make coffee for the other princess still in bed.”

  Only there wasn’t a coffeepot, at least not the kind I was used to. After looking through all the cupboards, I found a mesh contraption. A coffee filter? I heard footsteps padding toward me and turned to face the hall.

  Hot damn. Briar’s belly button, a shadow secret I wanted to take my time learning, peeked between the pink material of her cotton shorts and tank top. When my eyes drifted over the flare of her hips, my mouth went dry. Her legs were long and toned. She clearly enjoyed exercise and taking care of herself.

  Briar’s toenails sparkled in the dim light and a narrow silver chain circled her left ankle. I forced my gaze back up to her sleep-flushed face, willing my body back under control. Not that she wasn’t aware of my interest. It was embarrassingly obvious.

  “I was going to make you coffee. There’s no pot.”

  Briar’s smile could warm the southernmost tip of Tasmania. “This is Seattle. We take coffee seriously.”

  She walked right up to me, so close I could feel her hair slide across my chest. She’d let it down. It was pulled up, a few pieces straggling around her face, when she’d helped me into bed last night. I liked her hair both ways. She plucked the filter thing from my unresisting finger.

  “I’m from Melbourne. So do we.”

  She tipped her head back and met my eyes. Hers were dark, almost navy. Her soft lips parted. An unconscious opening, I hoped, seeking my mouth, my tongue. Because I wanted to give her both. I slid my hand over her hip, settling at the curve of her waist, my fingers farther up her back as my thumb rubbed across her ribs.

  Her eyes widened, her lips parted fully
. “I’d like you to kiss me,” she whispered.

  Her voice, husky from sleep and need, was the best music ever. I brought my other hand up to cup her cheek, fingers in her silky hair, palm against her jaw. I tilted her head just how I wanted it and brought my head down. Keeping my eyes locked on hers, I waited.

  “If I kiss you, I’m going to want to do so again.” I drew her closer until her breasts touched my chest. Right where she belonged.

  “I think I’m going to want you to do more than kiss me.”

  “This will take us past the friend agreement we made yesterday,” I said as I pressed my lips to the very edge of her mouth, pulled back. We stared at each other for a long breath. She slid her arms around my neck.

  “What do you want, Briar?”

  “You,” she whispered.

  “I need to know. Exactly.”

  She pulled back a little, a small furrow building between her brows. Pain built in her eyes, muddying the vivid blue. Then she blinked, coming back to me. Taking a deep breath, she said, “I want to be with you, Hayden. I want you to make love to me, but I also want to spend time with you. I enjoy your company.”

  I pulled her flush against me, my hand splayed on her lower back, my fingers on the upper swell of her bum.

  “I want that, too.” I pressed my lips to hers, firm and sure of our mutual pleasure.

  She melted into me further, quicksilver seeking its home. I shifted her jaw to give me deeper access, parting her lips with my tongue. Sweeping inside her mouth, I moaned, loving the warmth and hint of mint from her toothpaste. Her nipples pebbled against my chest, and I cupped the side of her breast. Her tongue slid over mine, touching, tasting, learning.

  She cuddled closer, her belly cushioning my raging erection.

  She grabbed fistfuls of my hair and strained into me. I flicked my thumb over her nipple and she moaned, arching her back into my body.

  She pulled her tongue from mine and smoothed it over my bottom lip. Her teeth found that spot at the corner of my mouth and nipped. I dropped both hands to her hips and pulled her up, pressing her warm core to my hard dick.

  This kiss was a rip curl thundering toward the beach. I never wanted to stop.