Page 35 of Color of Love

Chapter 11

Last night’s bout of insomnia couldn’t be blamed on his PTSD or anxiety, for once. It was all on himself and that explosive kiss with Justine. It had been so hot, he still hadn’t cooled down. He just wanted more, he wanted it all, everything she had to give.

It was inevitable, when he’d turned up at Dean’s house and seen her, all that mouth-watering skin glowing in the light from the fire, those honey eyes heating when she spotted him, he knew he was going to do something stupid. He just didn’t think the opportunity would present itself, and then he’d bumped into her upstairs. Having her pressed up against him got him all kinds of worked up and he needed to know if she felt the same way too.

The short answer was yes, it seemed like she did. But she was fighting it, her damn ethics getting in the way and ruining everything. Not that he blamed her, it was a good thing really, just not when it meant he couldn’t have his cake and eat her too.

That kiss. He fought a groan even now. She tasted like sin, just as he knew she would, every movement of their lips dragging him down deeper into the flames of desire. Her soft lips so plump and billowy against his as she gave in, sighing into his mouth with her surrender. The tentative little licks of her tongue had his mind straying to what else she could slide her tongue over. She’d felt so right pressed up against him, turning him into an animal, his need overruling him. Just as he was getting started, she’d shoved him away and locked herself in the bathroom, leaving him standing there, hard and aching for her.

He’d thought if he had a taste of her then that would be enough, his curiosity would be assuaged and he could move on with his life, but he was wrong. He now only had more questions. What would she feel like? Was she as lust crazed as he was? What did she look like when she came apart? What did her moans sound like? Too many questions and not enough answers. He needed more but he couldn’t get them. He forced himself out of bed, ignoring his hard-on, it would go down eventually. Yeah, when you get Justine between the sheets, mindlessly writhing against you, his mind taunted and he clenched his teeth at the visual that presented.

He had a shower and dressed in a tank top and shorts. He was looking forward to playing another round of basketball with the guys; it was becoming a Sunday tradition. He’d had more fun than he thought he would last night, the fireworks with Justine aside. He felt like he’d been welcomed into the group and he finally belonged somewhere. A sharp ache lanced in his chest which he tried to ignore. He wasn’t meant to be fitting in, he was meant to be keeping everyone at arm’s length. But Justine was right. He needed a support network if he wanted to get better. He’d been thinking more about what that looked like and who it could be. He needed to get serious about his bid for sheriff too.

Pushing his thoughts aside, he left the house and jogged over to the basketball court to meet Beau and Dean, who were already waiting for him. He dropped his keys and phone in the grass next to their stuff.

“There he is,” Beau called over.

“We were beginning to think you weren’t gonna show,” Dean taunted.

“Yeah, we figured you were too intimidated by us to show your face on this court again,” Beau taunted, flexing his biceps. Blake arched an eyebrow at them both as he sauntered over.

“That’s big talk considering last time I wiped the floor with you both and sent you home crying to your mama,” Blake said, and Beau barked out a laugh.

“Never again,” Dean said with mock seriousness and Blake rolled his eyes.

“We gonna stand around all day gossiping like a bunch of old ladies or we gonna shoot some hoops?” Blake asked them, issuing the challenge before slapping the ball out of Dean’s hand and dribbling it up the court, his speed surprising them both and leaving them in the wind.

He got in position for a lay-up and jumped, the ball sailing through the net with a satisfying swish. Before he could grab it again, Beau snatched it away and ran back down the court with Dean tearing after him. They played individually for a little while and then paired off - Blake and Dean against Beau. Beau managed to duck past them both and took a shot, it bounced off the rim and Blake caught the rebound, heading back up the court with Dean blocking for him. He made an easy shot and he and Dean high fived afterwards. Beau glared at them.

“I don’t like this new partnership,” he grumbled.

“Don’t be jelly, sweetie, you’ll get your turn,” Blake teased, blowing him a kiss, and Beau flipped him off, laughing. They played hard, dominating the court, aggression and rivalry driving them until hours had passed and they were all exhausted. They collapsed on the grass, the hot sun beating down on them.

Beau turned to him. “Where did you learn to play? At college?”

“Nah, I didn’t make it through college. I learned in the military,” he started, and noticed the surprise on their faces when he said he’d been in the army. “Sometimes you get a lot of time in-between assignments, but you can’t go anywhere, so we set up a little hoop and got a ball. Those were some good times.” He sighed, remembering.

“I didn’t realize you were in the military,” Dean replied softly. “Stupid question, but what was that like?”

Blake was silent for a minute as he thought about how to answer. He didn’t want to get too into detail, didn’t want to trigger a flashback or anything like that. He’d be humiliated if he had an episode in front of them.

“It was probably one of the best times in my life. It was hard though, obviously. Met some great people and lost some too,” he said.

“How come you got out?” Beau asked.

Again, Blake wasn’t sure how much detail to go into, he wanted to keep it top line.

“My wife, uh, killed herself,” he said simply. Dean cursed under his breath and Beau put a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry to hear that man, we had no idea.”

“It’s cool, it was a while ago now.”

They all sat in silence for a minute and Blake felt like he owed Beau more of an explanation for why he attacked him a few weeks ago.

“Beau, the other week when I-”

Beau interrupted him. “You don’t need to explain anything, man.”

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