Tony: Alvarez Security Series Page 7

  Ignoring it, he scooped her up and toss her over his shoulder, giving her ass a slap in the process. Tromping through the snow, he carefully mounted the steps, snagged her luggage with his free hand and set it inside the door before kicking it shut with his boot. Walking over to the fire, he set her down and put his hands on her shoulders.

  Bending down to her eye level, he said, “We’re talking about this stunt later. But right now, we’re getting you undressed and warm, then I’ll go whip up some breakfast.”

  Pulling her gloves off, her cold fingers fumbled with the buttons on her coat. He moved her hands away and unbuttoned it, pulled it off and gently pushed her down onto the leather seat closest to the fire. Kneeling, he pulled her boots off and rubbed her feet to try to get some warmth back into them.

  Standing, he looked down sternly and said, “Stay,” as he turned to walk into the kitchen.

  “I’m not a dog to be ordered around,” she groused.

  “Don’t push me, Sherrie. You pull another stunt like that and you’ll find your ass bared and reddened,” he barked from the other room.

  She looked askance, not remembering anyone ever threatening her with a spanking before. Not as a child and certainly not as an adult. A retort was on the tip of her tongue, but she wisely decided that she would not tempt fate. And she had to admit that the fire’s warmth was penetrating her frozen hands and toes.

  A few minutes later the smells of coffee and bacon were drifting from the kitchen. He’s going to think I can’t cook since he did supper and breakfast. Nope, doesn’t matter what he thinks. I didn’t invite him here anyway, she thought stubbornly.

  Standing up, she made her way to the kitchen, watching the scene in front of her. Tony’s back was to her, the tight t-shirt stretched across his muscles. He came out into the snow in just a t-shirt to see what I was doing.

  Feeling small, she said, “I’m sorry, Tony. I didn’t mean for you to rescue me again.”

  His head dropped as he said, “Quit with the fuckin’ rescue talk.”

  Huffing, she whirled around and stomped to the table, tossing some plates onto the surface.

  “Pouting now?” he quipped.

  Furious, she stalked over to him, poking him in the chest. “Yes, I’m pouting. I came up here to get away. To be alone. To think. To grieve. Now I’m stuck in the snowstorm of the century with a man who really doesn’t want to be here, doesn’t want to be with me like I want to be with him, and can’t let me in.” Chest heaving, she turned away, knowing the tears were coming.

  She heard his footsteps come up behind her and felt his large hands on her shoulders. “You’re wrong. I do want to be here. And I do want to let you in.”

  Not even bothering to wipe the tears sliding down, they dripped from her cheeks onto her shirt. He rounded her chair, seeing her ravaged expression. Kneeling, he cupped her face wiping the tears with the pads of his thumbs. “Oh, darlin’. We seem to be constantly at odds, don’t we?”

  She nodded, saying nothing, but held his gaze.

  Her tear-filled, luminescent blue eyes held his. Leaning forward until his lips were a breath away, he said, “I do want this. When I said I wanted you last night I meant that I wanted to be with you. I want a relationship. I want everything. I just don’t know how anymore. Will you help me? Can we help each other?”

  He wants me? Us together? Am I enough to help him? What if I agree and my heart gets broken? Can two people, who seem to be broken help each other become whole again?

  He rubbed her cheek with his rough thumb. “What’s going on in that mind of yours, Sherrie?”

  Sucking in a deep breath, she looked up into his eyes. I may never be enough to fill his emptiness and my heart may get broken in the process. But yes. I deserve this, however long it lasts. I deserve to be happy. I want to take a chance with this man.

  She nodded one more time, allowing him to slip in, placing his lips onto hers. This time calm. Gentle. A whisper of a kiss. But one that held promise.

  She leaned back, searching his face for signs of regret. But there was none. Not this time. Offering a small smile, she said, “We keep having arguments right before meal time.”

  He grinned back, happy that they were finally on the same page. “You want breakfast, babe?” Standing, he moved back to the kitchen and served the eggs, toast, and bacon onto two plates, placing them on the table.

  Hungrier than she realized, she ate heartily noticing that he ate almost three times as much as she did. He caught her eying his plate and laughed. “I’m bigger…gotta keep up my strength.”

  “For what?” she queried. “We’re just going to be stuck here until the storm is over and they can plow the roads.”

  “I may have to chop wood. Or dig us out. Or wrestle abominable snowmen.”

  She looked up, a bite of egg still on her fork halted on its way to her mouth. “Did you just make a joke? Tony Alvarez made a joke?”

  Tossing a piece of bacon at her, he quipped, “Eat your breakfast, smart-ass.”

  Grinning, she did exactly that. I have no idea what’s going on, but if it keeps that smile on his face, it needs to stay!

  *

  True to his word, he did go out and make sure that they had enough firewood. The heat was still working in the house, but he cleared the snow and ice away from the heat pump to keep it efficient. With this storm, trees could fall right on the power lines and we’d be without power for a while. A shed was built next to the house on the kitchen side, and upon investigation he discovered a generator and fuel. Grateful that the Marks kept the house stocked, he checked to see what other supplies might be around.

  He had lost track of time, and when he went inside he did not see Sherrie. The wind had stopped howling and it appeared that the snow was beginning to lessen. Trekking around to the back patio, he saw Sherrie standing there, trying to shovel the snow from the door.

  “Woman, get back in the house,” he ordered.

  “Will you quit calling me ‘woman’ and quit telling me what to do?” she argued.

  Taking the shovel from her hands, he gave her a quick kiss. “Sorry darlin’, but I just can’t deal with you out here freezing when I can do this so much easier.”

  What had taken her almost ten minutes to shovel only took him a few minutes to cover twice the area. Crossing her arms over her chest, she glared.

  “What?” he asked.

  “You’re still controlling.”

  “Yeah, well now I’m enjoying controlling you,” he said, gently pushing her back inside as he stomped off his boots. “I did find a generator that we can use if the electricity goes out.”

  At this, she turned her gaze to him, confusion in her expression. “I…I don’t know what a generator is,” she admitted.

  “It runs on gasoline and you can plug in your most important appliances or heaters while your electricity is out.”

  “Oh,” she said, turning away as she walked slowly toward the fire.

  Coming up behind her, he hesitated for a moment then pulled her in for a hug, grateful when she did not pull away. She felt…right. This felt right.

  “What’re you thinking?”

  Twisting in his arms, she leaned way back to look into his eyes. “Tony, if you hadn’t come after me, I’d be here all alone and wouldn’t know any of this survival stuff.”

  “Darlin’, you’ve got a fireplace, a roof over your head, and food. You woulda been fine.” Looking down at the doubtful expression of her face, he added, “But I woulda come for you.” Placing another gentle kiss on her lips, he said again, “I’ll always come for you.”

  She allowed him to pull her body tightly into his, the warmth from him seeping into her. His massive arms held her close as she pressed her head into his chest, his heartbeat a comfort beneath her cheek. She wanted to ask him more. What he meant. What he would do. How he felt. But not now. Now, she just wanted to feel him wrapped around her.

  By that afternoon, the snow had stopped and they stepped out onto
the front porch to take a look around. The air was cold but the sun came out, turning the view into a blinding white wonderland. Snow clung to each branch and the Cardinals sat proudly in the cedar trees, the green and white a perfect background to their brilliant red.

  “I found some birdseed in the cupboard. Do you think they’d like some?” she asked.

  “I think they’d love it.”

  Sherrie ran inside and grabbed the two bags. By the time she came out, Tony had removed the tops of the feeders that hung near the porch. After pouring some in each of the feeders, they sat in the rockers bundled under blankets as the cardinals, blue jays, and others became brave enough to eat from the feeders.

  Tony looked over, seeing her eyes riveted on the feeders, watching the birds. Her eyes were sparkling, cheeks rosy, and her lips were curved in a gentle smile. Rubbing his chest once again, he knew that she was worth it. Worth the pain, because she was worth the living.

  “You cold, darlin’?” he asked.

  Turning her head, she saw his eyes staring at her, a soft expression in them. Smiling, she nodded. “A little. But it’s so pretty, isn’t it. Like a fairyland.” She turned back to the shimmering landscape in front of them. “It seems clean and fresh. Not tainted by anything ugly yet.” Turning her head back to him, she added, “You know how snow is so perfect when it first comes down and then by the time the snow plows come through the snow gets all dirty? I always hate that.”

  He saw the little frown that marred her face and wanted to keep that frown from appearing. “Then maybe we’ll just stay out here and let the snow melt naturally and we won’t go back into the city until all the dirty snow is gone.”

  A giggle erupted as she said, “I’d like that.”

  He looked back over the diamond-like brilliance of the yard and said, “Me too.”

  They sat in companionable silence for a little while longer before he rose and stretched out his hand to her. “Come on in, babe. The sun is moving behind the trees and it’s getting colder.”

  She reached out her delicate hand and placed it in his as he pulled her gently from her rocker. His hand felt warm. Strong. Capable. Like him.

  *

  That evening she insisted on fixing dinner, digging around in their food to see what she could manage. Dicing the leftover chicken, she quickly stir fried it with some egg, vegetables, and rice that she had boiled. Luckily the Marks’ had soy sauce in their pantry. She had brought some frozen eggrolls that she loved to munch on, so with her chicken fried rice she served up a hot meal.

  Scooping a huge serving onto his plate, he grinned appreciatively at her. “Smells good, looks good and,” after taking a bite, says, “tastes good, darlin’.”

  Beaming with his praise, she sat down to eat as well. This time, their meal was not eaten in silence. The conversation flowed as two people getting to know each other. As they finished cleaning up after dinner, he grabbed two wine glasses and another bottle. Jerking his head toward the fire, he led the way over. This time he sat on the sofa and she piled up on the floor near the heat.

  “So tell me about working for Mr. Marks. How did you decide to become a paralegal?”

  Taking a sip, she watched the flames quietly until he thought she might not answer.

  “I guess the easy answer is that I was interested in law and knew I’d never be able to go to law school, so it was something attainable.”

  “Why no law school?” he asked. The question was simple, but he wanted to know more. Wanted her to open up to him. Wanted to understand this woman that had had him tied up in knots for a year.

  She sat in silence again for a moment. How much do I tell him? But then, how can I ask him to let me in if I’m not willing to do it myself? Heaving a huge sigh, she began.

  “My parents were teenage lovers who had to get married when mom got pregnant with Charisse. She was a preacher’s daughter and they really had no choice. Mom was cool, but dad…he just never got used to having his wings clipped at such a young age. I don’t remember much about him. He wasn’t bad…he just wasn’t there. He drank a lot, hung out with his friends. Hell, from what I heard when I got older he probably slept with any woman he could find, refusing to be tied down.”

  She turned her gaze back to him, saying, “But mom loved him. Crazy, isn’t it? To love a man that treats you so badly.” Shaking her head, she admitted, “I just never understood that.”

  The fire snapped and she gave a little startle before continuing. “When I was eight and Charisse was ten, dad died. An accident at work we were told, but I always wondered if he hadn’t been drinking when it happened. Mama just couldn’t live without him.” Rubbing her finger around the rim of her wine glass, she seemed lost in thought.

  “We needed her, but she wasn’t there for us. She withered away. I now understand that she was depressed, but then it just seemed like mama didn’t care. For the next two years, Charisse and I cooked, cleaned, got ourselves ready for school. One day, I got home from school and Charisse was sitting outside with the police around. She wouldn’t let me go in. Said mama was gone.

  “It took years for me to understand that mama committed suicide. She took a bunch of pills and just went to sleep. No note. No goodbye. No ‘I’m sorry girls’. Nothing.”

  Jesus, fuck, he thought, looking at her composed face. She holds her shit together all the time. Always composed. Always in charge. How the fuckin’ hell does she do it?

  “Charisse and I ended up in the system. We had one really good social worker who worked to keep us together and for a while it wasn’t hard. Two cute little girls…we were easy to place. Then Charisse began to act up. I think she was just so desperate for attention.” Giving a rude snort, she looked up, “Did you know that studies show that girls who lack a strong father figure in their lives often become promiscuous in their teen years?”

  Tony silently vowed at that moment that if he was ever graced with another daughter, he would shower her with love.

  “Anyway, the Charisse that you knew used to be a sweet little girl who just turned into a teen that found out that boys might not date her because she was a poor foster kid, but they’d pay her to blow them. And then later, she started hanging with a crowd that gave her plenty of attention. She’d stay high and started selling her body for drugs.

  “I tried. I tried so fucking hard to keep her clean and out of trouble but…well, by the time Charisse was eighteen our foster family booted her out and even though I wasn’t like her I think they just wanted me gone too.”

  Leaning back against the leather chair, with her legs stretched out before her, she felt the warmth from the fire toasting her toes. Sighing as the wine warmed her as well, she looked up at him staring at her. “You asked about law school and I’ve been giving you a rendition of my life story. Pathetic, isn’t it?”

  “Not at all. I’m sitting here, listening and admiring you more by the minute. Keep going. I want to know everything.”

  Admiring me? She sat silently for a moment, letting her thoughts flow back through time. “Eventually Charisse got into more and more trouble. She got a job at Club Edge and began stripping. Then she caught the eye of a gang leader. I tried so hard to run interference for her. I was out of high school by this time and the state will assist for college costs if you were in foster care. My last family agreed to have me stay with them on the condition that Charisse never came there again.”

  “That must have been hard,” he said.

  “They had little children, so I got it. I was never going to be able to afford a full university and law school after that, so I decided that if I could get my paralegal degree then I could start making money. I’d been working as a cocktail waitress…well you know the rest of that story. I had to finally make a choice between keeping Charisse out of trouble or having my own life. I guess she saw it as the ultimate betrayal and sold me to the gang leader. And that’s when you rescued me the first time.”

  Tony smiled at her, nodding. “Yeah, that was my lucky d
ay.”

  Lifting an eyebrow in question, she decided not to pursue that statement as they sat in silence once more, each lost in their own thoughts.

  “It’s not your fault, you know?” he spoke softly, watching the light play off of her beautiful features.

  “Intellectually, I know that. I gave her an ultimatum a year ago. If she was going to continue to have a relationship with me she had to get clean and I’d help her any way I could. If not…” she let the statement hang out there.

  “You did more for her than anyone else did and that includes your parents.”

  “Yeah, that’s for sure. But when someone is an addict, it’s so hard to know when to pull them along and when to step back.” She gave a little shrug. “I wish…oh, hell. Wishing won’t help now. But I do miss the Charisse of old. The one who would hold my hand during a thunderstorm. Or would read to me when mama wouldn’t. Or who taught me to ride a bike. That’s the sister I miss.”

  “Then that’s the sister you should remember.”

  Her eyes sought his at this statement.

  His hand cupped her cheek, willing his touch to soothe. “Remember the sister that did all the right things. The sister that fills your memories with smiles. And let go of the part that hurts your heart.”

  “What about you, Tony? Do you let go of the part that hurts your heart?” she asked softly.

  Silence was the only answer.

  Chapter 7

  Standing, Sherrie picked up her wine glass and walked to the kitchen. Rinsing the glass out, she put the cork back in the bottle and placed it in the refrigerator. It had felt so good to talk about Charisse. To let go of the guilt and allow grief to progress normally. Tony did that for me. But he can’t do it for himself.

  She saw the look on his face when she asked if he let go of the past and knew what the answer was. He had been closed off for so many years she wondered if he even knew how to start living again. Heaving a huge sigh, she left the kitchen and stood for a moment watching him stare into the flames. She could see why he was good on missions…she could not even see movement from his breathing. But she knew he was breathing. And thinking. And hurting.