CHAPTER ELEVEN – Firestorm
Nobody can go back and start a new beginning,
but anyone can start today and make a new ending.
~~ M. Robinson
Dani tried to ignore the powerful pull of the idea of them; the luxury of fading into her partner's arms for another night. She was so tired - of fighting, of swimming upstream and battling something as strong as the pull of the ocean's tides. The only tool she had was anger. It was the shield she held up against him.
"I'll be down here on the couch," she remarked dryly. "Yell if you need something."
He looked dully at her; "I thought we…" he stalled and looked awkwardly from the long curling stairs, which led to the bliss of his waiting bed and back to the angry woman tapping her foot in his foyer. No matter how badly he wanted this day to be over, he didn't want it to end with her down here and him up there.
"Oh, so now it's 'WE'," she argued. "When my father put you on the pavement back there - were 'WE' then Crews?" she browbeat him. "You're lucky he didn't shoot you," she glowered.
"How'd you know it was him?" Crews weakly argued not the point but the avenue for her knowledge. It let her know she'd already won. He didn't have the strength to fight her anymore.
"Snake said it was – and I quote," she made quotation marks in the air, "an old white haired dude. Now who else is that gonna be really, unless you're gonna make it a habit of getting thrashed by senior citizens, Crews?"
He sighed and admitted his failing, "He pistol whipped me. Hurt like hell," he added as quiet afterthought. "Still does," he rubbed his temple.
"Why didn't he shoot you?" she asked.
"You sound like you wish he did," Charlie replied letting pain seep into his voice.
"I…" she started, then stopped. He looked at her expectantly not at all sure what she'd say. "I don't wish that." Her admission was soft and gentle, "you're bleeding again." She reached for him and he brushed her off.
"Dammit, Charlie," she swore softly at him and tried again. "You want me to care about you and then when I do – you won't let me. Give me a break here," she stared up at him and her face was open. It reflected concern tinged with annoyance.
He eased onto a barstool in his kitchen and begrudgingly letting her look at his head. Her flexible little fingers manipulated his jaw but it was not rough, her touch was light and gentle. She probed the edges of his wound, her touch feather light and fingers nimble. "You need stitches," she pronounced. He grimaced and she quickly qualified, "you should get stitches but I think I can fix this so it will stop bleeding." This earned her an appreciative smile.
He sat at his kitchen island with every bandage, ointment and first aid accoutrement he owned. Ever since Ted put a pencil through his hand in one of California's many earthquakes, they had a prodigious amount of first aid supplies stocked in the house.
"What are you gonna do open and AIDS clinic?" Dani joked as she worked on his head under the strong light from the kitchen.
"Ted," he rolled his eyes, "Oww…" he winced.
"Don't be a baby," she chastised. She stepped between his legs to better access the area she was working on. "You really should get stitches," she commented. He shook his head. "Stop moving," she hissed getting rougher with him.
His sharp intake of air let her know she'd hurt him a fraction of a second before his eyes slammed shut and his hands gripped her hips tightly. They both froze and room temperature shot up meteorically.
"Breathe," she whispered without a hint of joking in her voice.
He opened one eye expecting to see her wry grin, but what he saw was concern. He felt her hands move over his shoulders urging him to relax. He opened the other eye and gazed up at her as she realized the compromising nature of their position. He braced himself for her rapid departure, but instead her hand strayed to his face, her thumb brushing his lower lip and she sank to kiss it tenderly.
He concentrated only on the sensation of Dani Reese kissing him; his pain fell away, forgotten. Slowly her tongue traced his upper lip and his lips parted as she swept into his mouth tasting of chocolate and coffee. The first time they'd kissed he didn't have time to appreciate the sweetness of her. This time he reveled in it. He gripped her more tightly and in moments he could feel her rock against his groin realizing he'd her drawn her tightly against him.
She withdrew as their collective need had gotten the better of them both and asked him in a hushed tone, "better?"
"Please tell me you didn't do that just because you hurt me," he said breathlessly.
"We've got a real problem here, Crews." She forewarned. "We are no good for each other and it's a well known fact that I can't resist things that are bad for me," she admitted honestly.
"Stay here?" he asked cautiously.
"Okay," she acquiesced, "but no touching." He crossed his heart with her finger and then kissed it. He moved to rise, but she wasn't done with him yet. She wove her nimble fingers into the short hair at the back of his neck.
"You won't go out there again without me Crews," she demanded. "You swear to me that you won't go after him without me," she wrung a vow from him. He nodded. "Say the words," she commanded and he was helpless to disobey. He never wanted this woman more than an arms length away from him for the rest of his life.
"I won't go anywhere without you," he vowed looking in her dark eyes, "I promise."
"Good," she decided. "Let's go to bed," she drew him with her as she walked toward the stairs, "to sleep," she qualified, knowing he was wearing a Cheshire cat grin.
They settled into his huge bed, on opposite sides, separated by a wide expanse of white and lay very still for several moments but sleep would not come. He cleared his throat and shyly asked for her hand.
She rolled to face him, "why?"
"Sometimes I forget where I am," he admitted, "If I wake up and don't remember…I don't want to hurt you," was his embarrassed reply.
She understood immediately and didn't question. She scooted closer and reached her hand out to him. He lay on his back with her hand on his chest clasped in his. She could feel the strong rhythmic beat of his heart through rumble through him.
They fell fast asleep like that linked but barely touching, but when she woke they were wrapped in the other's embrace. Her first impulse was to push him away and tell him he was a damned liar. She even grumbled, "no touching - my ass," until she realized he hadn't moved - she had.
In her sleep she'd gravitated to his side and he'd simply slung an arm over her and gathered her to his chest. He still held her hand under his tenderly cradling her in the hollow of his chest protectively, while her legs were intertwined with his and her arm traversed his waist with her hand low on his back near his butt. Sweet Jesus she thought, she couldn't seem to stay out of this man's arms.
She shifted to rise but he held her tightly grumbling in his sleep. His pale face was inches from hers. She withdrew her arm and placed her hand there, again thumbing his battered bottom lip again before lightly kissing him. "Dani," he sighed in his sleep contentedly. They had a big problem; she was pretty sure he loved her as he'd said and she was pretty sure the feeling was mutual.
