Blaze Page 4

  “Maybe. You should ask him, suss out whether that could be it.”

  Smiling, I said, “Thank you. I knew you would be able to help.”

  “Anytime.” She looked at the clock. “Now, I hate to tell you to leave, but if you don’t go soon, you’re going to be late for work.”

  I quickly finished off my coffee and stood up to leave. “You’ve always got my back, haven’t you?” I leant across the counter and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Love you.”

  ***

  I was still turning this over in my head that night as I put J’s dinner in the oven. It was just after nine pm and he wasn’t home from work yet. He’d been coming home later and later, and I had no idea what time to expect him. But I’d decided to try to talk to him tonight; to find out what was bothering him.

  I was startled out of my thoughts when I heard a crash at the front door. “J, is that you?” I yelled out.

  “Yeah,” he called back; it didn’t sound like he was in a good mood.

  A moment later he appeared in the kitchen and dumped a cat cage on the floor. Straightening, he muttered, “Scott better fucking appreciate this.”

  I took one look at Monty and quickly let him out of the cage. “Shit, I forgot to tell you that I’d agreed to have him this weekend. Sorry, baby.” Scott was taking Harlow away for the weekend and now that Monty pretty much lived at his house, he’d asked me to look after him. J hated cats; that’s why I’d failed to mention it to him.

  He was clearly annoyed. “The things you’d do for Scott and the things I’d fucking do for you.”

  His words were just what I needed to hear. With all the thinking I’d been doing about him and our relationship today, it was a relief to know that he felt that way. I smiled at him, and said, “Thank you.”

  He pulled me to him and roughly kissed me before saying, “I’m gonna hit the shower and then probably go to bed. It’s been a long day and I’m wiped.”

  Disappointment flooded me and I felt like I had whiplash from my emotions. One minute, happy with him and the next upset. He’d come home late, he hadn’t eaten the dinner I’d cooked for him and now he was just going to go to bed without spending any time with me. Before I could say anything, he was gone.

  And I hadn’t gotten the chance to talk to him about us.

  And he still hadn't noticed my hair.

  ***

  The next morning, J was in the shower when I woke up. I got out of bed and headed into the kitchen to get the coffee going. Determination to talk to him took over, and seems as though it was the weekend now, we would have plenty of time to talk.

  He joined me ten minutes later, and the first thing I noticed was that he looked exhausted. Then I noticed that he wasn’t dressed in his casual weekend stuff, but rather he looked like he was heading to the clubhouse.

  “Are you going out?” I asked.

  He avoided my gaze, and busied himself with making breakfast. “Yeah,” was all he said.

  “It’s Saturday, J. I thought we could do something together today. Thought we could talk about what’s going on between us.” I held my breath and waited for his response.

  He stilled, but didn’t look at me. Eventually, he did turn around. “I’ve got stuff to do at the clubhouse.”

  I saw the guilt on his face. There was definitely something going on; something he didn't want to talk about. I decided to push the point. “That’s okay, we can talk when you get home.”

  He frowned, but then nodded. “Yeah,” he said, quietly, and then turned back to finish getting his breakfast.

  I watched him for another minute or so. My appetite had vanished and I felt an urgent need to be on my own, away from J, so I grabbed my coffee and took it into the bedroom. I felt his eyes on me as I left but he never said a word so I didn’t stop.

  Tonight, we would talk.

  Which meant that I would spend the day psyching myself up for it.

  ***

  At nine o’clock that night, I reached into the oven and pulled the cupcake tray out. “Son of a bitch,” I yelled out as the tray burnt my finger. I dropped it onto the bench and slammed the oven shut. Turning the tap on, I ran the cold water over the burn on my finger. “Fucking asshole,” I muttered.

  I was startled by a deep rumble. “Who’s the asshole?”

  J.

  I didn’t turn to look at him, just kept running the water over my finger and staring at the sink. “You. You’re the asshole.”

  He didn’t say anything but I could hear his heavy breathing. And then I couldn’t. I turned my head to find him gone.

  What the fuck?

  What the fucking fuck?

  I flicked the tap off and stalked out of the kitchen in search of him.

  He was in the bathroom and it looked like he was about to take a shower. This meant that he planned on going to bed because J always showered before bed. And I just knew in my heart and my gut that he’d had no intention of having that talk with me.

  His eyes avoided me as I stood watching him take his shirt off. He undid his belt and unbuttoned his jeans. My body was tingling with anger and lust. I wanted him but the heavy disappointment that was running through me had to be dealt with first.

  Before he could remove his jeans, I reached out and laid my hand on his. “Stop,” I breathed into the tense air that surrounded us.

  His hand stilled and he slowly lifted his head to look at me. His eyes held something there that I never thought I’d ever see, and I flinched and pulled my hand away from his. He didn’t want me here.

  We stood watching each other. Warily. I hated it; this feeling of not knowing what he was thinking. Of knowing that he would rather I not be here with him.

  Finally, I spoke. “Where have you been?” Why don’t you want me?

  “At the club.” The smell of bourbon permeated the room. He’d been drinking; J hardly ever drank.

  “You’ve been drinking.”

  “Christ, Madison. Can we not get into this right now?”

  “Let me guess, it’s been a long day and you’re wiped.” I threw his words from last night back at him.

  He shoved his hand through his hair and blew out a long breath. “Yeah, it has.”

  I don’t know what I expected him to say but it hadn’t been that. A little more fight perhaps. After all, it was what we did best. But this, this resignation that bled from him was the last thing I’d expected. There was something going on with J that he wasn’t telling me. And as a woman, I struggled not to jump to conclusions. I couldn’t stop myself though; it’s what women did best. Random thoughts assaulted my mind; throwing various scenarios at me. In the space of a couple of minutes I must have conjured up at least five different theories as to why he was acting this way. And I knew that it was going to drive me insane. And I hated that too.

  Deciding the best course of action was to not provoke him, I nodded. “Okay.” I took one last look at him, and noting that the look in his eyes hadn’t changed, I left him and made my way back to the kitchen.

  I stood at the bench, staring at the mess I’d created. I lost track of how long I stood there but I guessed it must have been at least twenty minutes. The shower wasn’t running anymore, however J never came back to the kitchen. I knew he wouldn’t. He would either be asleep or pretending to be by the time I went to bed. My heart was hurting; I just wanted the J who had gone away four months ago back, not the J who had taken his place.

  ***

  Sunday flew by without us talking about our problems. J was called out to deal with some Storm issues so I was once again left alone. Then Monday rolled around and I woke to discover J already gone again. I forced myself out of bed and into the shower so I could get ready for work. Disappointment sat heavy in my chest.

  The morning passed by in a blur; shower, coffee, drive to work and then before I knew it, it was five o’clock and time to go home. As I put the keys in the ignition of my car, I realised that I didn’t want to go home. Didn’t want to see that look i
n J’s eyes again.

  Shit.

  I sat there for a long time, thinking. And then I knew where I needed to be. I started the car and drove on autopilot to the place that had saved my soul already this year. It was my safe place and I needed it now.

  Forty minutes later, I stood and said, “Hi, my name is Madison and I’m an alcoholic.”

  Tonight’s meeting lasted just over an hour and I didn’t hang around afterwards. I’d gotten what I’d needed and felt a little stronger, a little more able to attempt to talk to J tonight. My day had been spent going over and over it in my mind and I knew that I needed to sort it out as soon as possible. For my sanity if nothing else.

  As I pulled into our driveway, I noted that he was home; his Jeep was parked in his side of the carport. Knots formed in my stomach and I was tempted to hit reverse and leave.

  “Put your fucking big girl panties on,” I chastised myself and put the car in park instead. I quickly grabbed my bag and got out of the car before I changed my mind.

  As I reached to open the front door, J flung it open from the inside, his eyes wild. “Where have you been? I’ve been fucking worried about you.”

  My anger flared and I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I shoved past him and stormed inside, throwing my bag on the bench when I hit the kitchen. He’d followed me and I spun around to glare at him. “You’re seriously kidding me! I’ve spent the last God-knows-how-many nights waiting for you to come home with no word from you as to when that would be. You don’t get to fucking yell at me for the same thing, J!”

  “So this is tit for tat, is it?”

  “No! I was just pointing out the obvious.”

  “It’s not the obvious, Madison. You knew I was at work; I had no clue where you were seems as though you left work nearly three hours ago. A simple phone call would have been enough.”

  I stared at him incredulously. “I didn’t know you were at work!” I yelled at him.

  “Fuck, babe. It wouldn’t have been hard to figure it out. Where the fuck else would I be?”

  “I don’t know, J. You tell me.”

  He stopped and stared at me, his eyes blinking as he tried to process a veiled accusation that I didn’t actually mean. It had just come out of my mouth in a heated moment in which I wasn’t thinking straight. Damn those scenarios I’d mentally flicked through last night; they were putting ideas in my head.

  “I’m going to forget you said that,” he said in a low, angry voice.

  Trying to calm down, I took a couple of deep breaths. It didn’t really work though; the adrenaline was coursing through me and I was at the point where I needed answers. I needed to know what was going on in his head. “J, where are you?”

  He looked confused. “What?”

  I shook my head; more at myself than him. That question hadn’t come out right. I tried again. “I mean, there’s something going on in your head and you’re withdrawing from me. I need to know where your head’s at.” I took another deep breath before adding the one thing I didn’t want to say. “If you don’t want to be with me, you need to tell me.”

  His response was swift. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me to him roughly. His lips brushed across the top of my forehead. I sank into him. This was what I needed; this closeness. J and I connected when we touched. It was like air to us; without it we stumbled.

  “I fucking love you so don’t ever confuse my distance for a lack of desire or commitment. I’ve just had some club shit to deal with, babe.”

  My hands ran over his back muscles. He was tense; rock hard. I wanted him to let me in. But he seemed to still be working out how to do that. So, I decided to give him that; to give him the time to figure his shit out. I had his words of commitment for now and that would have to be enough until he could give me more.

  I pulled away. “I love you too,” I said softly.

  He tipped my chin so that our eyes met. “I thought I’d been clear that I wasn’t ever going to leave you again.”

  “J, a woman needs more than words. She needs to be shown that a man means what he says. You’ve been avoiding me, leaving early for work, coming home late and not having sex with me. I wasn’t sure what to think because those are not the actions of a man who can’t get enough of his woman.”

  He sighed. “You overthink this shit; you always have, babe. I don’t say shit for the fucking sake of saying shit. You need to take it in that when I tell you something, I mean it.”

  “And you need to back up the shit you say with actions. Thinking is what women do. And yeah, sometimes we overthink stuff but that’s only because the men in our lives give us mixed fucking signals.”

  “Mixed signals? Fuck, babe, women are the fucking masters of that shit.”

  “Well, let me just tell you that when your man who normally can’t get enough of you stops wanting sex, that’s the biggest mixed signal. So, I’m telling you, get that shit together otherwise we’re going to have problems.” I jabbed him in the chest as I said this.

  A growl came from deep in his chest and he roughly pulled me to him. “Sweetheart, my cock will never get enough of you. Don’t ever overthink that.”

  I reached up and pulled his face down to mine. “Show me,” I whispered.

  He didn’t hesitate. His arms moved down my body and wrapped around my ass to lift me up. My legs wound around him as he backed me up against the wall. He bent his head and kissed me. Hard. Relentlessly. There was so much emotion behind this kiss and I took in the full force of his passion for me. It was his way of showing me that he meant what he’d said.

  He ended the kiss and growled, “Nothing better than you, your legs around me, your pussy tight against me and your mouth on me, babe. I walk around with a fucking hard on for you every damn day, and as for other women, they’re not even on my fucking radar anymore, sweetheart. Haven’t been for over six years since I made you mine, and even when you weren’t mine, none of them came close.” His gaze intensified as he continued, “We clear on that now? Or do you need me to count the fucking ways I want to show you and your pussy how far gone I am?”

  I sucked in a breath. If that wasn’t clear, then I was a fucking moron. I murmured, “We’re clear, baby.”

  He nodded. And then his gaze dropped to my chest. “Need to get these clothes off you, babe. Need your tits in my mouth. And then I’m going to eat you for fucking dinner.”

  I smiled. My man was back.

  Chapter 4

  Madison

  I yawned as I entered the kitchen the next morning and took in the sight before me. J was leaning against the kitchen counter, drinking coffee, and tracking my movements. To say this gave me tingles was an understatement. Last night after his declaration of love for me and my pussy, he’d taken me to bed and spent hours showing me how true his words were. This morning I was sore and exhausted, but in a good way. A very good way.

  “You got the day off?” he asked after he scanned down my body and took in that I was dressed in shorts and a tank rather than work clothes.

  “Yeah,” I answered as I moved into his space.

  He placed his coffee mug on the bench as I reached up and took hold of his face with both my hands. I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him. His mouth opened to let me in. His hands landed on my ass, and he drew me closer.

  A moment later he groaned as he ended the kiss. “I’ve got to get to work, babe. Otherwise I’d lock you in our bedroom and continue this.”

  Smiling, I said, “Good to know.”

  His hands remained on me; he seemed reluctant to let me go and I liked that. This day was starting off good.

  “What’s your plans for the day?” he asked.

  “I thought I might head over to the hardware store and look at paint. I want to paint the lounge room.”

  “What’s wrong with the way it is now?”

  My eyebrows shot up. “Really, J? The walls are off white. It’s boring; we need some colour in the house.”

  I moved to the
coffee machine and began making myself one while he finished his off. His eyes never left me. Just the way I liked it.

  “I know what’s going to happen. You’re going to get all fucking excited about it, you might even start painting a bit of the wall, but I’m going to be the fucker that has to do most of it.”

  I gave him a pointed stare. “How do you know that?”

  If J was the kind of man to roll his eyes, I was sure he would have done that right then. Instead, he muttered, “Gut instinct, babe. That, and twelve years of knowing you. Projects are your favourite thing, until they’re not. And I’m betting this’ll be the same.”

  He pushed off from the bench and rinsed his mug in the sink.

  I chose to ignore what he’d said. He was kind of right, but there was no way I was admitting that. “So, I was thinking grey for the lounge room. With white.”

  He was back to watching me as I finished making my coffee and began making toast for breakfast. “Babe, knock yourself out. Just tell me when you need me to finish the job.”

  I scowled at him. “You can be an ass sometimes, you know that?”

  He chuckled and closed the distance between us. “What can I say, you bring out the fucking best in me.” He dipped his mouth to mine and gave me a quick kiss. “Gotta go, sweetheart.”

  He smacked me on the ass, and as he was heading out of the kitchen, I called out, “You still haven’t said anything about my hair.” It stung that he hadn’t noticed it.

  His head swung around to face me and he had a puzzled look on his face. I noted his gaze moving to my hair and then to my face. “Looks good.”

  “Oh my God, you didn’t even notice that I’ve coloured it, did you?”

  “Madison, I’ve got no fucking clue about women and their hair. It looks good, you look good.” His gaze swept down my body and he added, “When a woman’s got legs like yours, a man’s got no hope of noticing their fucking hair, babe.”

  And that right there was J. He had a way of going from my bad books to my good even when I was annoyed at him. All it took was his dirty mouth to do it.

  ***