Page 21 of Justice for Radar

I leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb and just drank her in, her glossy dark hair surrounding her sun kissed face, her dark lashes fine crescents against her freckled cheeks. She was beautiful like this. Angelic, really. Stronger than she knew, certainly.

She shifted, her brow furrowing in her sleep, and I frowned, my own brow crushing down as she moaned out, her hands appearing from under the blankets to reach out. As though she scrabbled or clawed at some invisible surface for purchase. She twisted, another soft moan that could be pain or could be something else emanating from her throat.

I went to the bedside and kneeled, reaching out and cupping the side of her face, capturing the hand closest to me to keep her from scratching herself. The nail polish was gone from her long nails, and they looked a bit rough, white patched on them from where it’d been picked off, which was a stupid thing to notice… but I did, and I honestly don’t know why it bothered me deep down.

She whimpered, and I stroked her cheek with my thumb.

“Justice,” I called gently, keeping my voice low. “Justice, honey, wake up.”

She sobbed in her sleep and on the broken exhalation, she inhaled sharply, and her eyes flew open as she shoved herself with her free hand back and away from me, sitting up.

“Easy,” I declared, giving her hand that was still in mine a light but firm squeeze. “Easy,” I repeated, holding that hand fast as she reflexively tried to pull away. I got to my feet from my kneeling position, turned, and sat on the edge of the bed.

“You were dreaming, I heard you when I came in from the garage.” A white lie, sure, but a harmless one… still, it felt oily on my tongue, and I regretted it almost immediately.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured thickly, shaking her head to clear the sleep from it.

“It’s all good,” I whispered and let her hand go, pleasantly surprised when she curled her fingers around it and held on.

“You want to talk about it?” I asked a moment later.

She shook her head, “No one wants to hear it,” she muttered, and it sounded so broken, so defeated.

“Try me,” I said quietly, and she raised her eyes in the dim diffuse ambient light from other parts of the house and reached over to click on the bedside lamp. Both of us winced and squinted against the sudden brightness.

“Any time I’ve tried to talk about anything pertaining to my past guys have been all the same… they don’t want to hear it,” she said.

“Sounds more like insecure little boys than men,” I grated, and she smiled slightly.

“Come on, I have the perfect cure for bad dreams,” I told her. I got up, tugging on her hand.

She blushed and muttered, “Please don’t judge…”

I raised an eyebrow.

She got up too, and I smiled.

She was in a light peach satin tank and short-shorts sleep set that was edged in ivory lace and left nothing to the imagination. It was at once sophisticated, sexy, and looked cool.

“Sorry, can’t help it, and the judgment is that’s hot…” And it was, I could feel myself starting to grow hard at the press of her nipples against the thin fabric.

She giggled slightly, a half-nervous half-pleased sound as I towed her gently into the hall and in the direction of the kitchen.

“Have a seat,” I murmured, and she pulled out one of the stools from under the counter and sat, resting her arms on the counter itself and leaning on them in such a way that her chest was covered.

I went around to the stove and took down a saucepan from the rack over the island, setting it on the stove.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Making us up a hot adult beverage that will help us both sleep. You want to talk about it?” I asked again.

“I don’t know that talking about it will make anything better,” she said softly, and I nodded.

“I get that,” I said, pouring milk into the pan and turning on the stove. I got out my fine grater and my block of hot chocolate spiced with cinnamon and began grating it into the milk.

We lapsed into silence, and she leaned way forward on her arms and huffed out a breath. “So alternatively, you’re going to just make me hot chocolate?” she asked after a moment and I smiled, stirring the liquid in the pan and waiting on it to heat.

“Seems to me it’s the only thing worth doing at the moment. You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make him drink and that’s okay. In your own time, Justice. There’s no pressure here. It’s just a pleasure to have the company after tonight.”

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