Chapter 12 - The Life That Mattered

Ronin

“You’re hovering.” I grinned at the page in my book, feeling the gravity of Evelyn’s gaze on me as she peeked around the corner to the bedroom. Three long days passed under the wide umbrella of her worry. I anticipated more bathing and less studying, less frowning, less wrinkled-nosed concern.

“Just seeing if you got out of the shower okay. You didn’t sing today.” She slipped into the bedroom, her bedroom. I wasn’t sure why I still kept my condo, maybe for times I needed to suffer in solitude.

“Had you been in the shower with me, then you would have known the answer to that. You might have screamed the answer to that. And I would have sang for you.”

Her cheeks turned the perfect shade of pink as she climbed into bed. I lifted my arm to let her snuggle into me, and she draped a leg over mine. Her mind refused to let go of the events that led to my days off work. My mind didn’t care about that. It was too busy planning how I would get her out of that bulky sweater and fitted jeans.

“I have to go to Denver tomorrow for my mom’s treatment.”

“I’m going back to work, so the timing is good.”

Her finger traced the tattooed script along the side of my torso. “What do you think happened to the guy you saved in the restaurant?”

“He died.”

She twisted her head to look up at me. “How do you know?”

I masked the tension—the truth—behind gritted teeth for a few seconds, regretting my knee-jerk response to her question. “Just a feeling. Most people don’t make it out of the hospital after their heart stops … even if we successfully resuscitate them. I don’t know that he died. It’s just … a feeling.”

That wasn’t a lie. I had distinct feelings, or lack thereof, that told me he died. Not right away. His heart started beating again, but it didn’t do more than prolong his pain, offering temporary hope to his family.

He died. The ringing in my ears vanished, and the pain died.

“Graham thought the CPR did something to you … like hitting a low after an adrenaline high.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Has that happened before? I mean, surely you’ve administered CPR before, either as ski patrol or for sure in your EMT training?”

“Yes. I have. But every time is different. I don’t know what happened. I’m just glad that I’m feeling better.”

I lied to the woman I loved. Maybe it was for the best that we didn’t say the actual words. Maybe I didn’t deserve to love her if I couldn’t let myself trust her with the truth.

Hinder not the soul’s intended path unto the light, lest shards of darkness shed upon thee.

The man at the lodge collapsed.

The familiar voice whispered to me.

I made a choice—a choice to be a hero or a coward.

Hero. I always chose hero.

With every compression, the ringing in my ears intensified.

The paramedics took over. I stood, breathless, watching them load the man into the back of the ambulance, watching them prepare to shock his heart again.

One, two, three …

I counted, waited for the ringing to stop or the pain to begin.

“Me too. I’m so glad you’re feeling better.” Evie kissed along my bare chest. “Is there anything I can do for you? Lunch? Want to watch a movie? The sun’s out. We could bundle up and sit on the porch for a little while, get some fresh air.”

I threaded my fingers through her hair without saying a word. Blue eyes made their way to me as her lips paused at my sternum. A look … that was it. Not a smile. Not a word. Not a flinch. She saw it in my eyes.

The need.

The desire.

The wavering edge of control.

Her long lashes brushed her cheeks with several slow blinks before she wedged her body between my legs and kissed her way down my abdomen, letting her tongue tease along my muscles to the waist of my jogging shorts.

Was it wrong of me to want this from her, given everything she had done for me?

I didn’t know. All I knew was she did it better than anyone, and I wanted it pretty fucking bad.

Her fingers curled into the material of my shorts, and she slid the front down just enough to release my cock. I drew in a slow breath and blew it out just as slowly as my lips parted—as her lips parted—taking me into her mouth.

Fuck …

Nothing felt quite like the slide of her tongue, the warmth of her mouth, the look in her eyes just before they closed—heavy and drunk.

Mine.

I’d suffer a million eternities of that unexplainable pain if it meant Evelyn Taylor would never look at another man … let her mouth do to another man what it did to me.

Mine.

Could she be mine if I didn’t give her all of myself?

Her hands inched up my abs, fingers digging into the hard muscles. She hummed with her eyes closed. I grimaced, biting my lower lip as I gently fisted her hair with my right hand while my left hand claimed a handful of the sheets, my control slipping as the need to rock my hips off the bed, sliding deeper into her mouth, warred with my instinct to not hurt her.

My instinct won. It always did with Evelyn … at least it did that day. But I wondered if there would come a day that my mind would lose control of my physical needs. Needs that weren’t really mine.

Would my feelings—my life—ever really be my own?

* * *

Evelyn

“Where are you going?” Ronin reached for my hand as I climbed out of bed, but he was too slow.

I glanced behind me. Naked, ratted hair, and thoroughly fucked.

The unapologetic slide of his gaze along my body as his hand slid beneath the sheets between his legs contradicted my assessment of thoroughly, at least on his part. There was no question about his stamina … he was ready to get back to work.

“If you get yourself off, I’m going to feel like a failure in bed.” I lifted a brow, plucking my clothes from the floor.

He grinned, dragging his gaze to meet mine. “Sorry.” His teeth scraped along his lower lip as he homed in on my abs. Ronin liked my navel ring. “I have an incurable desire for you.”

“I’m sure a baby in my belly someday and stretch marks marring my skin will cure it.”

On a laugh, he released himself and propped his head up on his bent arm. “Don’t count on that. But since you mentioned it … let’s set a date.”

“A date?” I called from the bathroom.

“A wedding date.”

“Maybe we should set a date for you to properly propose to me.” I smiled at myself in the mirror.

“Okay. Tonight.”

I shook my head, pulling on my jeans. “I need a manicure, and I’m not sure I can get one today.” Manicures didn’t matter. He liked talking about marriage (yes, I know I started it), but talk was just talk. Until he bended a knee and said something that brought me to tears, I refused to do anything more than play our little game.

“Tomorrow?” He tried again, his voice a little muffled.

“I’m not sure what time I’ll get back from Denver. And again … manicure.”

“Christmas?” He sounded farther away, maybe the kitchen.

“Too cliché.”

“Evelyn, you’re being difficult.”

I combed through my hair, rolling my eyes. All he had to do was toss me over his shoulder, carry me to an altar, and say I do. The excruciatingly painful circus that was Lila’s and Graham’s wedding planning had turned me off to the idea of a “wedding.”

If I could have blinked and been Ronin’s wife, I would have. The health scares with my parents made me value life. Not the circus.

“I’m not being difficult. I just think I’m worth something that feels more real than random mentions of marriage and wedding dates. A proposal. Nothing grand. I mean…” I laid my brush onto the counter “…at least bend a knee and mold a paperclip into a circle, or—”

Oh my … god.

As I stepped out of the bathroom, my heart stopped.

Rose petals everywhere. Every color of rose imaginable. It was as if he took several trash bags full of rose petals and scattered them everywhere. I couldn’t see the bedding or the wood floor and rug because … petals … petals … petals. Where did he get all those petals?

The room smelled like roses.

Lavender used to be my favorite scent, but that day changed everything. Roses would forever make my heart skip, gallop, and melt into Ronin Alexander’s hands.

In the middle of the rose petal sea, Ronin waited for me.

On.

Bended.

Knee.

His hair was a mess, just like his wrinkled white tee and gray jogging shorts. He looked out of breath, nervous, but hopeful. Like my future.

Oh …

And pinched between his thumb and finger was a diamond ring.

Ronin swallowed and cleared his throat. “I’m fucking out of breath from doing this in under sixty seconds—and we owe Noah and Tami for the delivery. But here goes everything. You’ve seen my condo. The sparse amount of clothes in my closet. You know I could eat oatmeal for breakfast every morning and a bowl of soup for dinner every night. I’m a terrible gift-giver and a terrible planner. I don’t value things that much. And I’ve been content with my small family and ever-changing circle of friends who come and go from my life as I drift from one place to another.

“I wasn’t looking for anyone the day you walked into that cafe in Vancouver. But since that day all I can do is look at you. My mother once said I’d find something … some-one who would make me forget my purpose in life. Break my compass. Jumble my thoughts. And steal my heart.” He shook his head. “I didn’t believe her.”

I smiled through my tears, warm on my cheeks and salty as they slid over my lips.

“She was right. I can’t think straight. I have no clue where I’m going. And if you hold out your palm, you’ll see that pulsing thing that used to reside in my chest is now sitting quite contentedly in your hand.”

“Roe …” I swallowed my sob, taking a step toward him.

“Will you marry me, Evelyn Grace Taylor?” He took my left hand and slid the ring onto my finger because he knew the answer long before he asked the question.

Ronin kissed my finger over the ring, and then he looked up at me. “Will you?”

I grinned, wiping more tears with my right hand. “Probably.”

His grin matched mine as he stood and kissed me, lifting me off the ground. A breath later, my back hit the bed as petals scattered everywhere right along with our clothes.