Chapter 20

20

The Garden District, New Orleans, Louisiana

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 16, 12:10 A.M.

PHIN HAD ENOUGH FOCUS TO lock the door to the attic—one of the new locks he'd installed himself—but every remaining brain cell was focused on Cora Jane Winslow and the way she was kissing him.

He wasn't sure what had prompted this explosion of passion, but he wasn't going to question it now. His skin felt fizzy with sensation, his thoughts short-circuiting.

Every ounce of blood had fled his brain for his cock. He hadn't felt like this—so alive—in so damn long. Maybe ever.

Maybe it was the stress, maybe the momentary euphoria of discovered treasure.

Or maybe it was just Cora Jane Winslow.

"Careful," he muttered when he missed a step and they stumbled. He grabbed her close with one arm and gripped the handrail with his free hand, stopping them from plummeting to the landing below. "Don't want to break our necks before we can finish this."

Whatever this was. All he knew was that her body was pressed to his, her breasts soft against his chest and her arms linked tightly around his neck.

She laughed, a joyous sound. "Sorry. A little. But only a little." She slowed down, though, sliding her hands from around his neck down his chest, clutching his hand, tugging him down the remaining stairs to the landing where SodaPop waited patiently.

The dog trotted over to the wall where they'd slept the night before, dropping to her belly and curling up in a golden ball of fur. Such a good girl.

Still holding Cora's hand, he threaded his hand through her curls and crashed their mouths together again, savoring her little moan. He wanted more of that sound. He wanted her looking up at him with dazed eyes, seeing nothing but him.

He pulled back, searching her face expectantly, and exhaled, releasing the tension he hadn't realized he'd been carrying. There was the look he'd hoped to see.

Like he was the only person in the world.

She tilted her head. "If you want to stop—"

He kissed her hard. "Not unless you do."

"No," she whispered, then grinned wickedly. "But we have to be quiet."

"Where?" he asked simply.

She tugged him again, this time down the hall and into her room. She clucked her tongue and SodaPop followed them in, curling up once again on the braided rug next to her bed.

"Is this okay?" Cora asked, hesitation clouding her eyes.

"Perfect." He kissed her again, his heart pounding even harder when she began to tug his T-shirt from his jeans.

He'd need to take SodaPop out, but his dog could wait a little while. He'd walked her only a few hours before. He also needed to check the locks.

That couldn't wait. "Stay here. Don't move."

He stepped back, headed for the windows. He tested the locks on the windows, then the door to the balcony just as the last of Burke's crew was pulling out of the driveway. Only Molly's big red truck remained.

Phin wished they could be completely alone, but Cora was safe and that was all that mattered. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he took it out to check, just in case it was something he needed to do.

It was from Stone. Delores says to check your wallet. For the record, I didn't know anything about this.

Frowning, Phin did as he was told, then blushed when he saw the condom tucked behind his cash. Delores, you naughty girl.

He returned to where Cora stood, just as he'd left her. A smile curved her lips. "Everything locked tight?"

"You're safe, Cora Jane."

"I know."

Then his mind cleared of everything when her hands slipped under his shirt, touching his bare skin. "Cora," he whispered.

She glanced up at him through her lashes. "Is this okay?"

"Still perfect." He stroked her curls from her face. "What do you want?"

She drew in a breath. "I want to keep feeling good. I want you to feel good. And I want to feel you . Against me." She exhaled. "In me." She nodded once, resolutely. "That's what I want."

"That's a very good answer, Cora Jane."

Leaning up on her toes, she kissed him again teasingly. "What did you put in your pocket, Phineas?"

He huffed an embarrassed laugh, because it was clear from the sparkle in her eyes that she knew exactly what he'd put in his pocket. "Delores wanted me prepared."

"God bless that woman," she muttered as she pulled his shirt over his head. Then spread her fingers over his chest, fanning them back and forth. Making him shudder. "Oh, Phin."

He had scars. Lots of scars. But that didn't seem to be what she saw. Her gaze had grown heated, not in the bubbly way that it had upstairs after finding that necklace, but in a slow, deliberate way that was so much better.

Her fingers found each scar as she explored his skin, but her touch didn't falter. Not until she got to the edge of his jeans. She glanced up. "Still okay?"

He could only nod, afraid that if he spoke, it would come out as a squeak or something equally embarrassing.

She tugged on the button of his jeans, then hesitated before exhaling and squaring her shoulders in the way he'd become accustomed to the past few days. She gripped the zipper of his jeans and pulled it down, the sound loud in the quiet of the room.

And then she was touching him through his briefs, her fingers light over his erection. He uttered her name on a gasp. "Cora."

His fingers were suddenly in her hair, his mouth on hers. Kissing her, his pulse racing when she opened for him, kissing him back. He grabbed the hem of her sweatshirt, stopping the kiss only long enough to drag it over her head. Then he was kissing her again, hard and desperate.

His fingers trembled on the clasp of her lacy bra and she took over, reaching back to release it. He stepped back, taking the bra with him and stared.

She was as exquisite as he'd known she'd be. Soft skin, breasts that were the perfect size, just right for his hands. So he cupped them and she closed her eyes on a sigh that sounded relieved.

"You're beautiful," he whispered.

"So are you." She slid her hands up his body, twining around his neck, and he shuddered again at the feel of her nipples hard against his skin. He shucked off his own jeans, then unbuttoned hers, pushing them down her hips. She stepped out of them and he kicked his aside before covering her curvy ass with his hands and walking her toward the bed.

"Condom," she murmured, and he let her go with a mild curse.

He fished the condom from his pocket, then turned to find her perched on the edge of her bed, watching him with an intensity that made him shiver in the best of ways.

"You have a really nice ass, Phin."

He blushed, hoping she couldn't see it in the darkness. He was a thirty-seven-year-old man, too old to be blushing like a teenager.

He dropped his gaze to the scrap of white that was all she was now wearing. They were far too tiny to be panties, and he loved them.

He couldn't wait to take them off her, so he did, his chest tightening when she lifted her hips to help him. And then she was completely naked except for the pearls she always wore around her neck.

She was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen, and he wanted her.

He wanted everything, and he wasn't sure where to start.

An audible swallow had him yanking his gaze to hers, blinking when he saw insecurity there. That wouldn't do. Not at all.

He stepped between her legs and kissed her again, feeling her shudder. "So damn beautiful," he muttered when he came up for air, then gasped again when she pulled his briefs down and wrapped her fingers around him.

"Cora." It was all he could think to say, every nerve in his brain firing at the same time. He kicked his briefs somewhere near his jeans and scooped her up, placing her in the middle of the bed as gently as he could.

Then he crawled to meet her there, loving the way the moonlight filtered through her curtains, dancing across her skin.

He dipped his head to kiss her again and again until she was whimpering beneath him, undulating her hips against his.

"Phin, please. Please."

He slipped two fingers into her, groaning quietly when he felt how wet she was. He'd forgotten how good it could be when he was with someone he actually cared for. "So wet."

She made a needy sound as she grabbed his ass and pulled him closer. "Stop teasing."

So he did, sheathing himself in the condom before sliding into all that wet heat. Her eyes were closed, her expression blissful.

He shouldn't feel as proud as he did. But he was proud. She wasn't afraid. Wasn't sad. Wasn't feeling anything but pleasure.

Because of me.

"Move," she whispered, eyes still closed.

"Look at me," he demanded. He needed to see her. Needed to know everything she was feeling.

Her eyelids fluttered open and, even in the moonlight, he could see her desire.

He began to move, setting a slow, steady pace, watching every flicker of her eyes, listening for every catch of her breath. Figuring out what she liked.

What they both liked.

And when she went over, she kept her eyes on his, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she shuddered and moaned his name. He'd have bruises in the morning, and he couldn't wait to see them.

He was so intent on her that his own orgasm took him by surprise. He arched his back, his body rigid as he came harder than he ever had before.

Shuddering, he braced his weight on his forearms, resting his forehead against hers. He couldn't move. Didn't want to ever move. He wanted to stay like this forever.

"Cora," he murmured.

"Mmm?" She sounded sleepy, but she was smiling.

"Are you okay?"

"I am so okay." She sighed, content. "You?"

"I can't feel my legs."

She snorted an indelicate laugh as she smoothed her hands over his shoulders. "Maybe we felt too much?"

He laughed. "No such thing." He kissed her softly. "Sleep now. I need to let SodaPop out and I'll be back to guard your room."

She frowned slightly. "You'll sleep with me, right?"

He hesitated. "I sometimes have dreams."

She met his gaze. "I can deal with dreams, Phin. Do you need SodaPop on the bed with us?"

That she'd think to ask was such a boon. He hadn't expected this. Hadn't expected her . Emotion flooded his chest and he had to kiss her again. "You are a good person, Cora Jane Winslow."

"So are you, Phineas Butler Bishop."

He didn't want to leave her, but he had to walk the dog before he passed out. Reluctantly he pulled out of her and dealt with the condom before pulling on his jeans and shirt.

She'd sat up in bed, watching him, her skin on glorious display. "You'll come back." It was a statement, not a question.

"I'll come back," he promised. He clucked his tongue at SodaPop, who obediently followed him down the stairs.

Where Molly sat with a cup of coffee. "She's asleep?"

Phin strode to the kitchen door, knowing his face was red. Blue was asleep on his bed near the radiator and he bent over to give the old boy a quick pat. "Almost. I'm going to sleep in that chair in her room."

It was only a white lie. Okay, it was a total lie.

Molly snickered. "Sure. You do that."

Busted. But he couldn't find it in himself to care. "Come on, SodaPop. Potty time." He stood outside, shivering while she sniffed the ground and did her business.

He ignored Molly's smirk as he passed her on his way back up the stairs. Cora had drawn back the covers and was snuggled beneath them.

Still naked, he discovered when he climbed into bed beside her. SodaPop lay on the floor next to the bed.

"Good night, Phin," Cora murmured as she cuddled up against him.

He hadn't slept with another person in longer than he could remember, but Cora wanted him to sleep with her and that was exactly what she was going to get.

He slid his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer, her happy hum making everything right. Tomorrow they'd get back to work.

For now, he'd enjoy holding her as she slept.

It was good to feel again.

The Garden District, New Orleans, Louisiana

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 16, 4:30 A.M.

"No!"

Cora jerked awake at the shout. She'd fallen asleep in Phin's arms, but at some point, he'd pulled away and now lay curled into himself on the far edge of the bed. He was shaking and muttering "no" over and over again.

SodaPop was nuzzling Phin's neck, whimpering loudly.

He said he dreamed. Oh, Phin.

"Phin?" Cora gently reached for his shoulder, giving it a gentle nudge, before yanking her hand back. If he flailed, she didn't want him to feel guilty because he'd lashed out in his sleep and inadvertently hurt her.

He did flail, but it was immediately halted when someone knocked on Cora's bedroom door.

"Everything okay in there?" Molly called loudly.

Phin jackknifed into a sitting position, his eyes wild and disoriented. "What?" he demanded hoarsely.

"You were dreaming, Phin. It's okay." Cora slid out of bed and into her robe. Better to get Molly sorted first. She opened the door wide enough that Molly could see she was unharmed. "We're fine. Just a bad dream."

Molly's mouth bent down in sympathy. "I know those. Let me know if you need anything. Do you have any water?"

"I have bottles up here. I'll make sure he drinks something."

"Give him some aspirin, too." Molly gave her a nod before returning downstairs.

Cora shut the door firmly and sat on the edge of the bed closest to Phin. He still sat up, but his folded arms rested on his updrawn knees, his head in his hands. His body trembled and Cora's heart cracked.

She brushed a tentative hand over his head, working her fingers into his dark hair, massaging his scalp without saying another word.

Finally, he began to relax. "Sorry."

"Hush. Don't you tell me you're sorry, Phin Bishop. Not me."

He lifted his head, met her gaze. His eyes were devastated. "But I am."

"You are what?" she murmured, shifting so that she could work both hands into his hair, and he closed his eyes on a quiet groan.

"Sorry. Broken."

She didn't tell him that he wasn't broken. He was, a little bit. So was she, just not in the same way. "You're putting yourself back together, though. I'm proud of you, Phin. You've done so much for me this week." She injected humor into her tone. "You did so much for me a few hours ago."

He snorted a laugh. "I did do that, didn't I?"

She kept on massaging, working from his skull to his neck. "You really did. If you roll over, I'll rub your shoulders. You look tense."

He laughed again, this time bitterly. "Yeah, that's me."

"Roll over, Phin. Don't make me full-name you."

He opened his eyes, one side of his mouth lifting. "You're bossy, Cora Jane."

"I am." She stroked the side of his face. "I'm supposed to hydrate you, too. Hold on." She got him a bottle of water and dug in her nightstand drawer for some pain reliever. "I know there's some in here somewhere," she muttered, removing items and piling them on the nightstand as she searched.

Phin watched her, his eyes growing wide. "Why do you have a mousetrap in your drawer?"

"Because I don't have a cat."

"That makes no sense, Cora."

She sighed. "I set the traps out but then I trip them on purpose and put them away. I don't want to hurt any mice."

" That makes more sense." He reached over and grabbed a small mesh bag. "Why do you have twenty-sided dice in your drawer?"

"They were my mother's. I found them in one of the boxes in the attic and I remembered her fiddling with them when she was sad over my father leaving. She told me once that she and my father played with them in college."

"Dungeons & Dragons," he murmured, and she was surprised that he could remember details given how shaken he was.

"Yes. She taught John Robert and me how to play. We had game nights. Did puzzles. It was our fun time. Oh, here it is." She checked the expiration date on the bottle of pain reliever, relieved that the pills were still good. "Take these and drink." She waited until he'd swallowed the pills and drunk half of the water in the bottle. "Now, roll over."

Shaking his head, Phin did as he was told. Cora scooted closer until her hip rested against his and began kneading the muscles of his back.

"You have very nice muscles," she said. "I like what I see."

He just hummed, groaning a little when she dug her thumb into a particularly tight muscle. SodaPop sat on the floor at Cora's feet, looking concerned.

She hadn't thought a dog could look concerned, but Phin's dog did.

"Good girl," she said softly. "You're such a good girl. He's okay."

Phin reached over the side of the bed and stroked SodaPop's silky ears. "Thank you, sweetie."

"Is she your sweetie or am I?" Cora asked playfully.

Phin winced. "Um…both?"

Cora chuckled. "That's okay. I know where I stand." She continued to work on his back and shoulders until he began to relax. "If you want to tell me about the dream, you can. If you don't want to, you don't have to."

He sighed. "You haven't asked why I have PTSD."

"I figured you'd tell me when you were ready."

He turned his head so that his cheek pressed into the pillow. "If you don't stop the massage, I'll tell you."

"You don't have to bribe me, Phin. You don't have to tell me at all."

"Not a bribe." He made a little noise. "There. That feels good."

She focused on that spot until the muscle beneath her hands became pliant. "What is it, if it's not a bribe?"

He sighed again. "Armor? I can't look at you when I tell it."

"Whatever you need. I assume it was something that happened when you were in the army."

"Yeah," he said roughly. "Not a very unique story. Our Humvee hit a mine. I was manning the turret and got thrown from the vehicle. The mine was in a backpack in the road. I saw it too late to warn the driver."

She thought about the scars on his chest and the one that slashed across his back. One of those scars was round and she thought that might have been where he was shot in the bar fight he'd mentioned. The others on his chest were scattered in an uneven pattern.

Shrapnel, she'd thought when she'd traced them with her fingers before they'd had sex. The scar across his back looked like a burn.

Oh, Phin.

"What happened to your friends?"

"Most weren't really friends. Colleagues. I didn't let many close enough to be a friend. Still…" He drew a breath and let it out slowly, his hand reaching for the dog again. SodaPop leaned into his touch, licking his hand.

Cora kept up the massage, both to make him feel better and to give herself something to do. She had a feeling this story, while not unique, would be hard to hear.

"They were…" His voice broke and he cleared his throat. "They were blown to bits. I was lucky. Getting thrown saved my life."

She traced the burn scar lightly before resuming the shoulder massage. "But?"

"But I was surrounded by…them."

Cora swallowed hard, imagining what he'd seen. "Did anyone else survive?"

"No." He choked out the word.

"Were any of the friends you did let close among the dead?"

He was quiet for a long moment. "Yes. He was hurt, but not dead. I crawled over to him and he was…bleeding. I tried to help him. Tried to stop the bleeding. Didn't work."

"What was his name?"

"Jamie. Jamie Darnell. He was twenty-six. Had a wife and a daughter. He was from Dayton, so we'd talk about Ohio. Sports and ice cream and Cincinnati chili."

"Cocoa and spaghetti noodles," Cora murmured.

"Library trivia?" he asked.

"Yep. Cocoa in the sauce, served over spaghetti. Always wanted to try it."

"Maybe someday…" He trailed off.

Maybe someday she could go to Ohio with him and try the chili. She hoped that was what he'd planned to say, but she wasn't going to push him.

"Maybe," she said, leaning down to brush a kiss over the scar on his back.

He shuddered. "I still see them. Blood and bone. Hands and feet. Arms and legs. All over the place."

Her hands faltered for a moment before resuming the massage. "I guess you would. Not something easily forgotten. Did you have to go to the hospital afterward?"

"Yeah. That was awful, too. I hate hospitals."

"Me too. Spent a lot of time in them with John Robert. Did you feel guilty that you survived?"

He nodded, his expression miserable.

She pressed a kiss to his temple, her hands still working his shoulders, but more lightly now. She was just keeping up the skin-to-skin contact at this point.

"So did I. Not the same, of course, but John Robert was my little brother. He wasn't supposed to get sick and if he did, I was supposed to be able to fix him. None of that worked out like it should have."

"Sucks," Phin muttered.

"It really does." She moved back up to his neck, then to his skull.

He shuddered again, this time in pleasure. "Feels good. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Can I ask another question?"

"What happened six weeks ago?"

"Yes. But if you don't want to tell me, you don't have to."

His mouth tightened. "I was helping Val and Kaj—he's her boyfriend."

"The prosecutor." Cora had read about their situation. Kaj's son had been targeted by kidnappers. Val had been the boy's bodyguard and had needed help taking the bad guys down. "You were there, at the end."

"I was. There was a…" He cleared his throat. "I saw some remains. Looked just like my squad. Arms and legs. Hands and feet. A lot of blood."

Cora kept her voice matter-of-fact when she wanted to cry for him. "Then your spiral six weeks ago makes logical sense."

Phin's fingers paused their stroking of SodaPop's coat. "Doesn't make it okay, though."

"Did you hurt anyone, Phin?"

"No."

"Did you help someone?"

"Yeah."

"You want to know what I think?"

He didn't answer for so long that she thought he wasn't going to. Then he sighed. "Sure. Hit me with it."

The weariness in his voice made her lay her cheek against his. She put her arms around his wide shoulders and hugged him. It was an awkward position, but he seemed to melt into her embrace.

"I think you're not God."

His eyes opened and he shifted to meet her gaze. "What?"

"That's what Tandy told me when John Robert died. I was so angry with myself. I'd failed him. Tandy finally lost her cool and told me that I wasn't God. I didn't get to rule the universe. It's not even close to what you went through, but you're not God, either, Phin. You didn't cause the explosion that killed your squad. You can't control the images that flood your mind. You saw them. It was awful. That would make anyone have nightmares and you already had anxiety and depression. That you spiral seems like a normal outcome. If I were God, I'd make it so that you'd never experienced any of that, but unfortunately, I'm not God, either. The fact is, it happened. You can't go back in time and make it un-happen."

"I hate that."

"I know. I hate that I can't go back and fix my brother. That I can't go back twenty-three years and beg my father not to go out on that last job. Then he might have been around to be a donor for John Robert. But we can't go back in time."

"Sucks," he muttered again.

"It does. But now that I know the details, I'm even prouder of you. You're putting your life back together. You have a job that you're good at with coworkers who care about you. You're planning to go home to your family and make that right. You're fixing the things you can control. You've even thought about helping the vets you shared that alley with."

He frowned. "How are you making me feel better? You should think I'm too much trouble, but even I don't hate myself so much right now."

That pleased her. "Good."

He reached for her hand, bringing it to his lips. "Thank you, Cora Jane."

"You're welcome, Phineas Butler."

He made a face. "That doesn't make me feel better, you calling me that."

She shrugged. "Too bad," she said lightly. "Joy spilled your middle name and I can't let it go."

He rolled to his back and sat up, lifting her onto his lap like she weighed nothing. It was enough to make her swoon.

She kissed his jaw. "Do you think you can go back to sleep?"

"No, but you should." He settled her on the bed beside him, untying the belt of her robe so that he could lay his head on her chest.

She carded her fingers through his hair, gratified when he hummed his pleasure. "If you can't sleep, will you listen to an idea I have?"

"Uh-oh. Is it an idea I'll like or one that will make me want to lock you in this room and not let you out?"

"I think you'll like it. But you can lock me in here later if you want. As long as you're locked in with me."

He laughed. "I like you, Cora Jane."

"I like you, too."

"What's your idea?"

"Well, it came to me after you told me about the vets in that alley, how hard it is for them to get a new start."

He lifted his head to study her face. "Yeah? And?"

"And…I have this big house and it feels wrong to keep it for myself."

His brows went up, his eyes lighting up with interest. "And?"

"I wondered about opening the house up to vets who need a helping hand. Like a halfway house. A place they can stay while they learn a trade."

Phin's mouth opened and closed, his eyes growing shiny. "Wow. Not what I expected."

"Do you think it's a good idea?"

"Yeah. I think it is. More importantly, it makes you a good person. Which I already knew, but…God, Cora. The possibilities."

She smiled at him. "I know. I figured I'd sell that necklace and have enough money to get started. There are grants for this type of thing, too. I've helped library patrons find them."

"If they exist, you will find them. And if anyone can do this, it would be you. I'd like to help you."

"Of course. I figured you would, even before we did…you know. This."

His smile was slow and dirty. "Set the bed on fire?"

"Better you than some thug with a gas can," she said wryly.

He winced. "Sorry. That fell flat. I guess it's too soon."

Her lips twitched. "It's okay. You have time to think of something better. Lots of time." She lifted her head enough to kiss him. "Now I have to go back to sleep or I'll be mean to everyone come morning. Will you try to sleep some more?"

"I'll try." He shifted on the bed so that he could wrap her in his arms. "Sleep, Cora Jane. We'll figure all this mess out with your father and then we can fix this place up and help a lot of people."