Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

T here was nothing wrong with his memory now. Not as he shoved the bottom of Josie's T-shirt up and his hands connected with her warm smooth skin.

He remembered everything from that summer in vivid living color. Their first kiss. The first time he'd made her come—first with his hand, then again with his mouth—and how she'd looked at him with eyes wide with amazement and unfocused from pleasure.

Then the first time he'd slid inside her. So tight. So wet. Even through the condom he'd felt her heat.

Her sigh against his ear as he was finally fully seated inside her had almost been his undoing. He'd nearly come right then. Only sheer force of will—and some mental exercises to distract himself—had kept him from ending that first time all too soon.

And here she was again now, just like back then. Staring at him with that look of desire in her eyes. A look that said she'd give him anything he was willing to take from her.

No wonder he'd hurt her back then. She'd given all and he'd taken it…and then left. Without even a goodbye. Or a text message.

His only excuse was he'd been a messed-up kid, scared shitless. He was pretty messed up now too… and scared. His brain injury. The future of his career. It all weighed on him.

Really, what had changed since then?

One thing. He knew now how Josie had felt about him then. And how he'd hurt her because of it. He wasn't going to do that again. Wasn't going to ruin a good friendship with Josie like he'd done last time.

"We good?" he asked, a bit breathlessly as they reached her bedroom.

"Yeah. Good," she breathed while pawing at his shirt, trying to get it out from where he'd tucked it into his jeans.

"You sure?" What was he doing? He wanted her—more than anything. She wanted him. Why was he making trouble with this conversation?

Because he was a mature man now who cared about her feelings. This was a good thing—even if it did screw things up and he went home unsatisfied because of it. God he hoped that didn't happen.

Doing the mature thing sucked.

"Shut up and take these damn jeans off," she said while wrestling with his belt.

Torn between a laugh at her determination and his groan of pure desire, Corey decided the conversation portion of the evening was complete.

He released the buckle on his belt and dropped his jeans. Stepping out of them and toward her, he moved them toward the bed. The twin-sized childhood bed with the ruffled bedding in the purple room that still had programs from the plays from their high school days pinned to a cork board.

It was surreal, this stepping back in time. But at the same time amazing. He could forget his injury. Forget all the worries that came with adulthood.

A summer breeze blew through the screen in the open window, cooler now that it was full dark. The feel of that night air completed his journey backward to that summer a decade ago when nighttime meant he and Josie could sneak off and be together.

He'd crawled through that window late one night after her parents had gone to sleep and Quinn was out with his football buddies. As the bed creaked beneath their mutual weight, he was transported to that time again. So much so his arms shook as he anticipated the feel of Josie beneath him, surrounding him.

He had her undressed in no time, then followed suit himself. He only stopped long enough to ask, "You sure Quinn's not going to be home tonight?"

Getting caught by her big brother was one thing. Being caught on top of her by an active-duty Navy SEAL was another. He didn't want to experience all the many ways Quinn had been taught to kill him in his years in the SEALs.

Hooking one hand behind his neck to pull him down for another kiss, Josie said, "Forget about Quinn," before she crushed her mouth against his.

As he felt her body beneath his, he had no problem doing exactly that. He forgot all about Quinn and everything else except Josie.

It took two times, plus a good bit of foreplay in between before he was satisfied—at least temporarily. He knew he'd want her again as soon as he'd recovered. And maybe hydrated.

Next to him, Josie's eyes closed. She'd drifted off to sleep, judging by the depth of her steady breathing and the peaceful, relaxed expression on her face.

She'd learned a few things over the years since they'd been together last. He tried not to think about whom she'd learned them from or practiced on.

Although, knowing Josie, she'd picked up that one trick she'd pulled on him from a website somewhere. She did like her research and he wasn't complaining. He'd come so hard he nearly blacked out and he was pretty sure that wasn't because of his brain injury.

She let out a little snort of a snore and he smiled. A wild cat one moment and a sleepy kitten the next…

Speaking of kittens… Corey saw a little face peeking out from beneath the dresser across the room. Then a second face. He smiled, remembering that night Josie had lost them in the wall.

Peanut Butter and Jelly. The little ungrateful troublemakers must have been frightened of him so they'd hid. Although, he couldn't blame them. Things had gotten pretty loud there with Josie for a bit. The kittens were just creeping out now that it was quiet.

When was the last time he'd had a pet? He could barely remember. They'd gotten a dog when he was really young. And a cat when he'd been a bit older, but after each had passed his mother vowed no more animals. She said it was too heartbreaking to lose them.

He had to wonder if she wouldn't like the company now though that she lived alone. Surely the years of happiness and companionship made up for the pain of loss.

The significance of that concept hit him. It seemed to relate to more than pets. Wouldn't it apply to people to? Wouldn't whatever time he had with Josie be worth the risk. Long distance might not work for them, but wasn't it worth trying?

Looking down at her, he realized, she could be his. Forever or just for a while, the pleasure of having her in his life would be worth it.

For the first time in a long time he felt hopeful. And happy. And thirsty…

Slipping out of bed, he snagged his boxer shorts off the floor and pulled them on. Barefoot he made his way to the kitchen, took down a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water.

Funny. This felt normal. Comfortable. Familiar almost. He'd been in this house growing up. It was leaving Josie asleep in that tiny bed, naked and sated, and wandering around the house in his underwear that was new. But something he wouldn't mind becoming familiar.

Turning, he saw a stack of papers and a laptop on the kitchen table. Josie must work there, in lieu of a desk. Carrying the glass over with him, he poked at the stack. He saw her scribbled notes. Even a sketch she'd done.

It was of the compass.

The sight of that sketch brought all of the real-world problems crashing back into the happy bubble of peace he'd found in Josie's bed.

Maybe he was being stubborn. Maybe it was fear he or she or both of them would be blamed for the missing compass. Whatever it was, he wasn't willing to give up looking yet. It was too soon to admit defeat.

They'd gotten permission from the manager of the gas station to look at the surveillance tapes anytime they wanted. They hadn't gone past seeing Kirk go back inside before they'd stopped.

There had to be something on there after that. Maybe Kirk sneaking the compass out at a later time. Maybe someone else going in. Whatever was on there, he needed to see it.