SBC Fighter: Tails Of Love Part 14

But she . . . yeah, she looked like she'd been smashed with a mal et.

"You can't be serious," she said, her breath ragged.

"Yeah," he told her. "I can."

"We've never even kissed."

"I've noticed," he said sourly. "But we'l make up for that real soon."

"I'm never getting married. I couldn't even make my engagement work, remember?" There was a definite note of panic in her voice now. "And you're divorced, so you shouldn't take this so lightly either."

He knew what she was doing: throwing out excuse after excuse, whatever she could think of, as if she could talk him out of loving her. Like he'd say, Yeah, good point-I don't want to marry you after all.

She was wasting her time.

"Here's the thing, Lisa," he said, unable to keep the fervency out of his voice even though, judging by her platter- sized eyes, he was scaring her more by the second. "That guy wasn't right for you and I'd never've gotten married if you were available. You should've waited for me. You know that in your gut, don't you?"

"I don't know anything-"

She broke off and looked wildly over her shoulder down the hal , where the rubberized sound of approaching wheels on the hardwood floors was growing.

"Oh, G.o.d, here comes Keenan again. Please, please, Cruz, I'm begging you-can we talk about this tomorrow?"

For one beat-two, maybe-Cruz felt guilty for pressing her like this, but he kept his eyes on the prize and the momentary weakness pa.s.sed. "It's not going to be easier tomorrow, Lisita."

Lisa went absolutely stil . "Don't cal me that-"

"Shhh. " Temptation got the better of him, or maybe it was just that he was tired of fighting it after so many years.

Aware of Keenan's imminent arrival and knowing, but not caring, that this wasn't the right time, Cruz leaned in, irresistibly drawn to those lips.

Just a taste, he told himself. What could it hurt?

She made a smal peep of surprise but didn't pul back, so he took that as permission. No, more than that-it was an invitation, especial y when he saw the smoldering heat in her eyes as they slipped to half-mast.

"Querida, " he murmured.

By now he was almost shaking with the force of his desire and excitement. Keeping his eyes open so he didn't miss one detail of her reaction, he licked her. Ran his tongue slowly . . . slowly . . . across her mouth and savored the faint traces of wine and the sweetness that was purely Lisa. And then he pressed one gentle, lingering kiss on her dewy-soft mouth to brand her as his for al time.

She knew it, too. A crooning whimper rose up out of her throat and she surged closer, as desperate for him as he was for her. But then she seemed to realize what she was doing, or maybe the flaming contact between them was too much. The reason real y didn't matter.

Al that mattered was that for the second time that night she jerked away from him. Lunging to her feet, she hurried to the ar moire just as Keenan rol ed back into the room.

The interruption nearly kil ed Cruz. He cursed and flung himself back against the sofa cushions, his body screaming b.l.o.o.d.y murder at the loss of her. His skin felt tight, his muscles rigid, his blood boiling hot. He pressed his palms to his temples, praying for control, but G.o.d only laughed at him.

Lisa fidgeted with the stack of CDs, looking as agitated as he felt, and that sure didn't help him with his control issue.

Lisa.

He pressed his fingers to his lips to hold her kiss there and imprint it deeper into his flesh. He would make her his or happily die trying.

"What's going on?" said Keenan into the heavy silence.

Judging by the suspicious note in his voice and the hard edge in his expression as he looked to Cruz for an answer, Keenan knew exactly what was going on. It could hardly be a surprise; though he'd never openly discussed his feelings for Lisa, Cruz sure hadn't hidden them either.

"We need to talk, man," Cruz told him.

Lisa rushed over, two bright patches of color on her cheeks. "No you don't." Flashing a quel ing glare at Cruz, she smiled at Keenan and held out an arm for Atticus, who happily climbed up to her shoulder. "There's nothing to talk about, and Atticus wants to change the music, don't you?"

Atticus chittered with excitement.

"Let's go." Lisa turned back to the stereo, selected a CD and let Atticus put it in while Keenan studied Cruz with the open distrust he'd probably use on a bridge salesman. The new music started-Santana now, one of Lisa's favorites- and Lisa and Atticus came back.

"Atticus wants to open his present." Resuming her seat on the sofa, she reached out to scratch the thick black thatch of bad-toupee hair atop the monkey's head. "Don't you, buddy?"

Atticus resumed his seat on Keenan's lap and grinned at her, revealing sharp yel ow teeth.

"Lisa," Cruz began.

"Not now," she said pleasantly, not looking at him.

Keenan was stil staring at Cruz. Actual y it was now a ful -blown I'm going to kill you first chance I get glare, and Cruz waited for him to hurl an accusation or two, but he didn't. Instead, Keenan handed a rainbow-striped gift bag to Atticus.

"Here you go, buddy," he said. "Open. Open."

Manic with excitement, Atticus chattered as he yanked the red tissue paper out, threw it to the floor, and withdrew a box he tried without success to open. He looked to Keenan for help, whining.

"Uh-oh." Keenan's nostrils flared. He fumbled with the box, trying to get his clumsy fingers to slide under the flaps, but no dice.

Cruz shifted uncomfortably, prepared to give Keenan a minute and see how he fared, but Lisa moved to help him.

Cruz put a staying hand on her arm just as Keenan shot her an annoyed look.

"I can manage," Keenan snapped, red-faced and deep into one of his flashes of frustrated anger. "I don't need you rescuing me al the time."

Abashed, Lisa held her hands up and backed off. "Okay, okay."

At last Keenan got the box open and Atticus went wild.

Screeching and delighted, as though he'd received a lifetime's supply of marshmal ows, the monkey went to work extracting his gift. It was a toddler's tool kit, the wooden hammer, wrench, screw driver, and screws painted in bright colors to match the tool box.

Atticus knew exactly what to do with it, too; he stuck one of the screws in its hole in the side of the tool box, turned it a time or two with the screwdriver, and looked around to make sure they'd al observed his bril iant accomplishment.

"Eeeee-eeeee-eeeee!" Atticus screeched. "Eeeee- eeeee-eeeee!"

The three humans, having been through this dril before, clapped and cheered. "Good job, Atticus," Lisa said. "Good job."

Atticus rewarded her with another wide grin and then picked up the hammer and started banging it against the box's handle.

"Maybe now you two can tel me," Keenan said, low, his color returning to normal now that his brief bout of frustration was behind him, "what the hel is going on."

"Happy to," Cruz said before Lisa could get a head of steam going. Taking a deep breath, he prayed his oldest friendship could survive the night because he knew Keenan would be furious. "I just told Lisa I'm in love with her."

"Oh, my G.o.d," Lisa muttered.

Keenan gaped at Cruz, horror etched on every line of his face. He floundered for several beats, and then the shock turned into outrage. "You're trying to get with my sister?" he said, a vein pulsing right down the center of his forehead.

"I'm gonna get up outta this chair and knock your teeth down your throat."

Cruz didn't doubt the sentiment or the intent. It was no more than he deserved, he supposed. If he'd been thinking, he would've taken Keenan aside first, told him what he had in mind, and then told Lisa, but his growing impatience hadn't al owed him to do any of that.

"I don't blame you," Cruz said. "Kick my a.s.s if you want.

I'l stil want to marry her when you're done."

"Marry?" Keenan gasped. "Marry? "

"I need your help, though, man." Here Cruz looked to Lisa. "Because you're the only one who can tel her it's okay for her to rejoin the living-"

"Stop, Cruz," she cried.

"-and she needs you to forgive her."

Lisa gasped and unraveled a little, right before his eyes.

She was trembling now, a little pale, and her growing wild- eyed fear scared Cruz as much as it gave him courage.

She wouldn't be this upset if he wasn't hitting close to home, would she? Did she need this confrontation as much as he thought she did? Was this the painful conversation that would final y set her free from her self-imposed prison?

Cruz plowed ahead, speaking only to Keenan. "You're better now, man, but what about Lisa? Who's going to take care of Lisa?"

"You son of a b.i.t.c.h," Keenan snarled.

Atticus froze, hammer c.o.c.ked, wide-eyed with alarm.

"It's time for you to take a break from your physical therapy and your struggles and your pain and see that your sister is stil a young beautiful woman who needs to have her own life now," Cruz said. "And she needs your permission to live it."

Lisa got up and made a sickly laughing sound; Cruz knew her pride demanded it. Wrapping her arms around her middle as though she were freezing, she tried to pretend she was fine the way she always pretended.

"I am living my life." She raised her stubborn chin. "I don't need-or want-anything other than my work and you, Keenan. Cruz isn't very good at taking no for an answer.

That's what's going on here."

But Keenan didn't look like he believed her. He looked like he was coming out of a trance. Blinking slowly, he stared first at his sister, whose lips were now quivering with her effort not to burst into tears, then at Cruz, who met his gaze and let him see his absolute love for Lisa and his determination to make her the happiest woman on the face of the Earth, which was no less than she deserved after the hel she'd been through.

Keenan nodded once at Cruz and seemed to come to an invisible decision. With one hand he absently stroked Atticus's head, and the monkey lowered the hammer and looked up at him.

"Oooo," Atticus murmured sympathetical y.

"You'l take good care of her?" Keenan asked Cruz.

Cruz shifted his gaze to Lisa because the vow was for her. "Yes."

"Good." Keenan nodded again, more firmly this time, and held his right hand out. "I need a minute with my sister."

"Great." Lisa pivoted, turned her back to both men, and swiped at her eyes. "This is just great."

Cruz pressed Keenan's hand and felt the strength that was stil there in his best friend's body, curled fingers and wheelchair or no. "Thanks, man."

"I'm going to hold you to that promise," Keenan told him.

"I know." He dropped Keenan's hand and half-turned to go, but Atticus stuck out his right hand, too, wanting to shake. Cruz took the monkey's tiny fingers and had to laugh. Atticus grinned that crooked grin.

Cruz went to Lisa, who again swiped her eyes and resolutely refused to meet his gaze. There was fear in her rigid posture and in the goose b.u.mps running up and down her bare arms. Whether it was the past that scared her the most or the future, he couldn't say.

Al he knew was that he loved her.

Peeling one of her cold hands away from where she'd clamped it to her waist, he bowed his head, pressed a lingering kiss to her wrist and took rea.s.surance from her racing pulse.

They were getting closer, he and Lisa. Almost there.

"Come to me, Lisita," he told her softly, his need making his voice hoa.r.s.e and the words shaky. "When you're ready."

Lisa pul ed her hand free and turned her stony face away, but the last thing Cruz saw before he left the house was the tel tale flicker of emotion in her eyes.

"Lisa," Keenan said.

She couldn't face her brother. Cruz, d.a.m.n him, had shaken her so badly she couldn't breathe, much less speak. She felt as though she were on the edge of a bottomless creva.s.se with her toes hanging over and a stiff wind at her back. Why had Cruz opened al these cans of worms? Why?

"I don't blame you for the accident. It was a drunk driver."

"I know that," Lisa snapped.

Wheeling around, she stooped to pick up the winegla.s.ses in her clumsy hands. Of course she knew that.

This was a stupid, pointless discussion and she was tired and there were dishes to wash. Why did they have to go through this ridiculous and unnecessary forgiveness exercise?

And why was her heart skittering? Why couldn't she breathe? Why was her skin so tight and her flesh so clammy and hot?

"It wasn't your fault you were driving, Lisa."

"I know that," she said again, but there was a new layer of hysteria in her voice, so strong that even she could hear it.

"If you want Cruz-"

"I don't want Cruz."

"-then you should go to him because he's a good guy."