Stephanie
I spent the night in bed with Carlos. He tossed and turned most of the night, dreaming about getting tortured by his captor. Getting him to relax wasn't too much of a challenge. I pressed my body tightly against his, preventing him from causing more injuries to his broken ribs when he thrashed in bed. Carlos settled once I stroked his handsome face. My touch brought him out of whatever hell he relived in his dreams.
His face was swollen from the beating he had received, but I could tell he was a handsome man. I gently traced his lips with my fingers. Carlos didn't move when I leaned to kiss him. His lips felt too dry. I climbed out of bed to get some lip balm.
Why does Carlos affect me so much? He wasn't the first soldier I nursed back to health. However, he was the first to sleep in my bed. I had the others stay in the guest bedroom alone. And what was with the secrecy? Do the soldiers want their families to worry? I shook my head. They had their reasons which didn't concern me. However, it was for the best because I stayed off the grid and Joe's radar.
My mind drifted back to the man sleeping in my bed. At first, his calling me "Babe" irritated me, but it was better than my ex-husband's term of endearment. Cupcake. Who the fuck calls someone that disgusting name? It reminded me of the first time we had sex - on the dirty floor of the Tasty Pastry. I had to admit it wasn't one of my better decisions. Everyone knows my worst decision was saying "I do" when I married Joe. I should have accepted the ride to escape when Daddy offered. People don't call hindsight twenty-twenty for no reason.
Could someone explain why I married Joseph Morelli? Don't answer, because I already know. I wanted to make Mom happy. Joe and I should have seen the writing on the walls. Our dance of dating and breaking up was a clear sign we weren't supposed to be together. In a moment of weakness, I let Mom and Joe talk me into thinking marriage was the right decision. I have never regretted that decision more. My precious baby, JJ, was not part of that regret. He didn't get to grow up because of his father. Despite losing our son, having a child joined Joe and me in an unbreakable way. I shook my head. Living in the past wouldn't help the man sleeping in my bed.
The physical attraction between Carlos and me was evident. I caught him staring at my chest and ass as I moved around the room. Looking into his dark eyes made me exceptionally horny. I wanted to do unspeakable things with the man. Neither Carlos nor I needed that complication at the moment.
It took a few minutes to find the medicated lip balm in the box Caleb had dropped off the previous day. Not hearing noises of distress from my bedroom, I spared a few minutes to finish unpacking the sundries. The need to change the bandages and check for infection had me grabbing the supplies required. I leaned the crutches against the wall outside the door.
"I'm sorry for waking you," I said when I returned. Carlos groaned in pain as he rolled onto his side to look at me.
"You left," he whispered. "Why?"
"Oh. Um… I got some lip balm for your dry lips." I showed him the tube in my hand. Carlos let me open and apply it. I leaned over to kiss him gently. I know it was wrong to cross that line, but I couldn't stop myself if I tried. "That's better," I whispered against his lips. "I'll apply more in an hour."
My stomach grumbled, demanding nourishment. Carlos grabbed my arm as I attempted to climb off the bed. "Where are you going?" I turned to look into his eyes.
His touch and steely gaze sent electricity throughout my body. It settled in my core, making me needy for more. I was close to self-combustion. Carlos patiently waited for the answer to his question. "To cook breakfast. You need a high-protein diet. I'm afraid it might make you constipated," I huskily replied. His lip twitched in amusement. Carlos knew how his touch affected me. I wondered if he felt it too.
"Do you have fresh fruit?" Carlos asked, releasing his grip on my arm. His fingers gently caressed my abdomen when he released the grip on my arm. I nodded as I tried to unstick my tongue from the roof of my mouth. Good lord, the man was setting my hormones on fire.
"I can slice fruit for you, too," I replied. Carlos attempted to get out of bed. He needed my help to move to the other room. I grabbed the crutches Caleb had thoughtfully supplied the previous day. "You can lean on me or use these. The crutches might aggravate your ribs."
"I'm too heavy for you," Carlos said, making me snort. I helped him walk to the bedroom last night.
"Hello? I dragged you into the house from the beach. Silly man," I mumbled.
Carlos chuckled. "I forgot about that." He let me help until he was standing. I quickly adjusted the crutches to fit his height. "Thanks, Babe." I smiled and walked beside him. Sweat poured from his forehead as he attempted to walk to the kitchen, his hair damp from the exertion.
"You can sit on the couch. I'm sure it would be more comfortable," I suggested. Carlos shook his head and insisted on sitting in the kitchen while I cooked.
The kitchen chairs were solid wood. I didn't have cushions on the seats to cushion your ass. Carlos groaned as he sat on the hard surface. He declined to use a throw pillow from the living room. I couldn't blame him. Smelling ass on the pillow wasn't my idea of fun. A shudder ripped through me as the unwanted image of Mooch and Anthony Morelli sitting on the pillows and farting.
I quickly pushed the image from my mind. "I hope you don't mind scrambled eggs," I said as I pulled the ingredients from the refrigerator.
"It's food. I'll eat," Carlos said. I grinned and got to work while listening to Carlos talk about his friends. He had me laughing at Lester's pranks.
"I'd have a lot of fun making him pay for those," I said, laughing. I mixed the eggs in a bowl before dumping them into the pan. The flat grill sat across the back burners, providing the ideal surface to cook pancakes. Carlos told me another story. I had to pause for a few seconds to catch my breath. Lester and Bobby's antics were hilarious. "I can't wait to meet them," I said without thinking. I froze.
"Babe, they'd love you," Carlos replied.
"I doubt it," I scoffed.
By the time breakfast was ready, I had cooked a dozen eggs, a dozen turkey sausages and a stack of whole wheat pancakes. I puréed strawberries to use as syrup. In the centre of the table, I placed a bowl filled with orange slices, apple cubes, pears, peaches, strawberries and blueberries.
Carlos watched as I loaded my plate and tucked in to eat. My stomach released a satisfied grumble when I took a few bites. "What? I'm hungry," I said when Carlos raised an eyebrow.
He ate slowly without complaining about the excruciating pain I knew he had to be feeling. The food must have been cold by the time he finished eating. I wasn't surprised we ate everything I cooked. "Thanks," Carlos said when he placed the fork on his empty plate. "Everything was delicious."
I blushed at his compliment. It wasn't something I got used to receiving. "I'm sure it was cold by the time you finished eating," I said, dismissing his kind words. Carlos was different from Joe. My ex-husband criticized me. I had even served him Angie's lasagna. He said I ruined his mother's meal. All I did was cook the lasagna at the temperature and time suggested by Angie. It felt like I could do nothing right in his eyes.
"Babe, where did you go?" Carlos asked. He placed his palm on my cheek. I leaned into his touch. It had been too long since I felt the comfort of a man.
"Hmmm?"
His calloused fingers tugged on my bottom lip, gently pulling it from between my teeth. "Babe, are you still with me?" Carlos brushed the moisture off my cheeks. I didn't realize I was chewing my lip and crying.
"Sorry. I got lost inside my mind, thinking about Joe's critique of my cooking abilities," I replied.
"He never appreciated or complimented you," Carlos said.
It wasn't a question, but I felt the need to answer, "Not even when I cooked the lasagna his mother prepared. I ruined it by touching the dish."
"I'm sorry to bring up painful memories," Carlos quietly said. He caressed my jaw. I leaned into him to press my lips against his. The electricity passed between us, making my lips tingle. Babe was whispered as he exhaled.
"I feel it too, Carlos." I put some distance between us by grabbing the dishes to clean. After rinsing the plates and pans, I placed them inside the dishwasher, then ran the cycle. "When are we calling your friends?"
"Not until my injuries heal," he replied.
"Why would you make them worry?" I asked.
"My men need time to neutralize the threat. I can't have my enemies finding me while vulnerable," he explained. It made sense. The other soldiers used the same excuse. They didn't want to bring danger to my front door.
I helped Carlos move to the living room. His jaw clenched from the pain in his ribs and leg. I offered him pain medication stronger than Tylenol, but he refused. He took the antibiotics and the extra-strength Tylenol.
"How do you occupy your time between missions?" I asked as I sat beside him.
"It's classified," Carlos replied. I noticed his lip twitch as he teased me.
"Stop pulling my leg," I snorted. "Your missions are classified but not the time in between. Carlos, you don't need to deflect or misguide me. I'm not telling anyone about our time together. My life back home might have been an open book, but I never spill secrets about other people."
"What was your father's rank in the military?" Carlos asked.
"General, but I feel you already knew that information."
"Where does your sister live?" he asked. It seemed Carlos knew more about my family than I knew about his. The thought made me feel unbalanced. I wanted to tip the balance and ask about his parents and siblings, but Carlos didn't seem the type to share. Hopefully, he would eventually realize he could trust me with his secrets.
"Why do you need to know?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. I didn't want to tell anyone where to find my nieces. Even Misha and Caleb didn't know where my sister lived. They stopped asking for my name and about my family when I kept deflecting. Carlos smiled.
"I was under the impression you didn't get along with your sister," Carlos said, proving my earlier assumption. I wondered who told Carlos about my relationship with Valerie. It wouldn't have been my mother, leaving it to be Vince or Dad. I'd bet my money on Vince telling his military buddies.
"I don't, but that doesn't mean I'm going to tell you where she lives," I argued, crossing my arms and pushing up my breasts. His eyes focused on the exposed swells of my bosom in the neck of my tank top.
"What if I tickle you?" he asked, his eyes sparkling in amusement and a hint of arousal. His tongue quickly flicked across his dry lips. I passed him the lip balm stashed in my pocket.
"Not ticklish," I replied. I watched Carlos apply the balm. "I'd see if you're ticklish, but I don't want to hurt you." My voice sounded thick when I replied. The electricity crackled through the air while we teased, causing my skin to erupt in goosebumps.
"I own and operate a business," Carlos said after realizing I refused to talk about my sister. His words broke me from my aroused stupor. I shook my head. He probably knew Valerie lived in LA with her husband and two daughters.
"You do?" I breathlessly asked. God, the teasing was driving me insane with need. Carlos nodded, giving me a sexy smile. Before I left Trenton, a new security business moved into the area. I instinctively knew it was his company. "Rangeman?" I asked when the name entered my mind. I vaguely recalled Vince saying he worked there.
"Yes. Rangeman employs ex-military, ex-cons and ex-cops. All of my men are loyal to me and protecting our clients," Carlos explained. And just like that, my arousal dissipated when "cop" crossed his lips.
"Do you only offer home and commercial security?" I asked, wanting to learn more about his company. Call me curious. I was insanely nosy.
"Bodyguard and Security at nightclubs," Carlos added without elaborating further.
"Does Rangeman have an office manager?"
"Are you looking for a job, Babe?" Carlos asked. His eyebrow slowly rose as he gave me that sexy half-smile.
I shrugged while willing the heat building inside me to disappear. Carlos disarmed me. I couldn't afford to lose myself in him. "I've been working online as an office manager to earn cash. They e-transfer the money to my account once a month."
"What are your duties?" His question was like getting drenched by a bucket of ice-cold water on a hot, blustering day. I appreciated the reprieve from my wayward hormones.
"The usual office manager requirements, I suppose. I order supplies, monitor license renewals, employee schedules and client appointments," I replied.
"My second in command handles everything office related. I meet with the clients and oversee operations at the other branches," Carlos explained. The pride in his voice was evident. He loved his responsibilities and respected his staff.
"Does your man order supplies for all the branches?" I asked. I hoped his man didn't have too many extra jobs. Being an office manager was exhausting without having added duties.
"No. He orders for the Trenton branch but receives quarterly reports for the office expenses at each branch," Carlos replied. It didn't sound like a lot of work. However, it would be insanely busy every quarter, especially when they audit supplies ordered and used. "Babe, what's happening inside your gorgeous head?"
"Does your SIC have other responsibilities?" I asked.
"Payroll, accounting and budget," Carlos answered, making me grimace. It was too much for one man to handle.
"Wow. How many hours does he work every day? He needs an assistant, or you should hire an office manager," I suggested.
"Tank works between twelve and fourteen hours daily," Carlos said, confirming the man was overworked.
"That's too many hours. Tank's going to burn out if it continues," I said. Carlos quirked an eyebrow, making me smile. I kissed his cheek before going to my bedroom to retrieve my laptop. God, what was I going to do? I wanted Carlos in my life. Permanently.
"Babe?" he called after me. I ignored him for a few minutes to continue my train of thought. It was risky to offer my opinion when he never asked. However, his employees would burn themselves out or get injured on the job from mental exhaustion.
I opened my laptop and logged into my account. "I'll add some information into a spreadsheet and run an analysis. Please, answer my questions honestly," I said. "Are you ready?"
"Yes."