Falling Under

  Plus, when he groveled, he didn’t need fourteen people watching.

  He knew where she lived, after all.

  CHAPTER

  Eleven

  Carmella had gone back to work, keeping her head down, and for the most part, Duke had let her be.

  But the man skulked around all day. Just at the edge of her attention and it made her want to cry and punch him and laugh all at once.

  PJ strolled in with two coffee cups. “I bring you an offering of caffeine.”

  “You’re my favorite. Don’t tell the others, though, or I’ll have to deny it.” Carmella took the cup with a grateful sigh. “Thank you. I was waffling on another pot since it’s so close to quitting time.”

  PJ dropped into the chair at the empty desk. “How are you today? We missed you Saturday.”

  It hadn’t really occurred to Carmella, until she’d seen PJ walk in, that she’d have to say something about her fight with Duke. And since she and PJ had already discussed Duke before, it was even more natural that she would explain it.

  “Ah,” PJ said after taking a long look at Carmella. “There’s trouble? What’d he do?”

  Carmella laughed, feeling a little better. She gave PJ a brief overview, not going into a lot of details.

  PJ shook her head at the end of the story. “I’ve known Duke a few years, pretty well for the last year and a half. He’s solid. I can’t imagine he’s overly happy you’re mad at him.”

  Carmella shrugged. “I’m just hoping we can manage to work together after this.”

  “So, you don’t think you can work it out? Do you like him enough to try? Or was this your line that can’t be crossed?”

  “The … whatever it was between us isn’t even that serious, for god’s sake. We had sex.” Carmella looked around to be sure no one was within earshot. “Really good sex. But that’s it.”

  PJ’s brow rose very slowly. “I’m not going to argue with you. Not because I agree. Because you’re full of it, Carmella.” She gave Carmella one of those I’m keeping an eye on you things with her fingers. “Just know I’m wise to that. I’ve seen the two of you together. But I’m not going to call you on it because you’re not ready to share. Or face it or whatever. I know what that feels like. Plus I don’t want to scare you away because I want sex details and you won’t give them to me if we’re not friends.”

  “You’re a shit stirrer, PJ.” But Carmella wasn’t mad. It was sort of endearing.

  “I’m an active friend, silly.”

  “So being your friend is, like, a contact sport?”

  PJ laughed and laughed. “Only for Asa. I just want you to know that I like you and, as your friend, am always available when you need to talk. Or share sex details. I’ll tell you up front, I’m really nosy.”

  “I might have noticed.”

  “Come out to drinks at the Ditch with me and my friends on Thursday night,” PJ said. “You know most everyone already anyway. It’s totally casual. Wings and beer with fun people for a few hours.”

  “Will Asa and Duke be there?”

  “They have their boy club thing until about ten or so. Come early if you want.” PJ’s smile was so sweet and full of hope Carmella didn’t have the heart to say no. And she liked the group of women PJ hung out with so it wasn’t a hardship to get to know them better.

  And as she could avoid Duke by leaving before ten, she agreed.

  They chatted awhile more until Asa caught sight of PJ and the two of them went off to have dinner.

  Half the guys were still working when Carmella headed out for the night. They called out their good-byes and she waved, realizing that she’d begun to really consider Twisted Steel a home and its employees her family in a sense.

  She frowned as she thought of Duke and then pushed it firmly from her mind as she headed home.

  After she’d changed and started to put together a sandwich for her dinner, her doorbell rang.

  “If that’s Duke, I’m going to turn the sprinklers on,” she told Ginger as she headed to the front door.

  Duke stood on her porch, looking so good she wanted to punch him in the throat for it. This getting past him business would be a lot easier if the man was gross, or slovenly in some way.

  A gray T-shirt stretched across his muscles like a caress. His faded jeans were worn at the pockets and hems. And when she opened the curtains on the window to find him there, he smiled, holding both hands up in entreaty.

  “Please, Carmella, hear me out. Just give me ten minutes. I’m sorry.”

  Ginger barked once and walked away from the front door to stand on her human’s right side. Carmella looked at him, and though she knew she should follow the damned dog, she opened up.

  “Why are you here?” Carmella kept her hand at her hip, squeezing to keep from reaching out to touch him instead.

  “Can we talk? Please? I want to apologize and work this out.”

  “Apology accepted. Problem solved.” She started to shut the door—not very hard—but he blocked it with his foot.

  “Not even halfway solved. I made a damned mess, so I need to clean it up. And you need to hear why.”

  Oh. He had this thing he did when he got bossy. He jutted his chin out just a little. Enough that she realized what a sneaky fucking alpha male he was underneath all that smooth laid-back exterior.

  Damn it.

  “It’s over.” Meaning the argument and their relationship, but not believing it even as she said the words.

  He didn’t believe it any more than she did apparently, because he managed to walk into her house, closing the door at his back. Ginger hadn’t left Carmella’s side, but she also hadn’t so much as growled at Duke.

  “I didn’t say you could come in.” Carmella was pretty proud of how nonchalant her voice sounded.

  “I know. I’m a dick sometimes. But I aim to make you happy so I came in anyway.”

  She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest.

  He frowned, looking miserable, and she nearly felt sorry for him.

  He walked down her hall and into the living room, settling on the couch. She moved to the chair across the way—and out of his reach. Ginger settled over Carmella’s feet, keeping an eye on Duke.

  “Why are you here? I accepted your apology.”

  Duke’s expression showed surprise, but no anger. “Okay so I’m also at the point where I can see you have a temper.”

  Carmella nearly snarled. If she did, it was all his fault. “I don’t have a temper. You have a temper.”

  “Is that your version of I know you are but what am I?”

  She just glared his way and he kept grinning like an idiot.

  A hot idiot.

  His grin fell away, replaced by a more serious look. “I’m here because I want this to be okay. I want us to be okay. When I said I was a dick, I was joking. I’m not. Usually.”

  “But you were this one time?”

  “When you raise your brow at me like that, it makes me so hot for you.”

  Carmella stood and Ginger sighed, rousing a halfhearted bark at Duke. “Are you kidding me? Get out. I was an idiot to let you come in here.”

  Duke joined her, hands up again. “Sorry! I’m sorry. I thought it’d lighten things up. Wrong. Sorry.” Duke blushed and for whatever reason it made her sit back down.

  Ginger head butted Carmella’s leg until she gave the dog a behind the ears scratch. “It’s okay,” she murmured to the dog, who settled back down.

  She could punish him forever, and no one really won. She could make him go and underline the fact that she was an employee and nothing more. Or since she’d let him in, she could listen.

  “Thank you for hearing me out,” Duke said as he sat once more. “Like I said, I’m really sorry for the way I came at you on Saturday. I’m sorry I didn’t ask you what those pills were. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you when you told me.”

  In the whole of Carmella’s life, she’d heard men say they were sorry more times than she could
count. But when it came to actually believing any of them—with the exception of her uncle and cousins—she had a very brief record.

  People said they were sorry a lot. People meant it far less often.

  And yet, as she sat there across from Duke, she believed his words. He appeared genuinely contrite. It made her weak, that small hope. And she let herself feel it anyway.

  “Can I explain? The why? I don’t want you to think I’m making excuses. I’m not. But maybe once I tell you, you’ll know me a little better.”

  Carmella knew she should usher him out. Thank him for his apology but underline they were only neighbors who worked with one another.

  Instead she nodded. “All right.”

  “I’ve seen a lot of medicine bottles—like in your bathroom—before. And when I asked, I was told they were someone else’s. And I let it go, even though I didn’t believe it. Because it made me uncomfortable to push and pry. And then I watched Mick get more and more careless when our unit was out on patrol. You can’t be careless when people are trying to kill you. He got written up a few times for not showing up, or being late. Also something you can’t do when people are trying to kill you. And I knew he was self-medicating. I knew it and I understood it. Maybe I wished I could do it too because I hated being there. But he’s my brother, you know? And he was hurting. So I kept my mouth shut and he got worse and worse until he ended up overdosing.”

  Carmella had felt like nothing he could have said would have excused his manner. But she’d been wrong. Because what he’d done, she realized, he’d done because he was worried.

  “He nearly got booted from the army. Though in retrospect I wonder if that wouldn’t have been better for him. We managed to convince everyone it was a combo between the heat and the medication. They were his pills after all. He made up some story about how he’d forgotten he’d taken an earlier dose. It was stupid and he could have died because I kept my mouth shut. I saw your collection and it sent me back there. I honestly struggled with myself about saying something, and when I did, I came at you all wrong. I’m sorry I did that. But I’m not sorry I spoke up. I like you and I’m sure as hell not going to let anyone else I know end up nearly dead because I didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”

  Carmella looked at him for what felt like forever. Not speaking, but clearly thinking.

  “I should have asked you,” he continued. “And I should have believed you. All I ended up doing was hurting your feelings and making you mad at me. Next time—and okay, so I’m a dude so we both know I’ll fuck up again—I’ll do better. I’ll ask instead of accuse.”

  “Next time?”

  Duke wanted to touch her. Wanted to kiss her. And instead, she sat out of reach, aloof and sad.

  Mad at him was one thing. But sad, well, that was unbearable.

  He moved to her, kneeling at her feet, and still got eye to eye. “Next time.” He said it with utter certainty. “For now, I see sadness in your gaze and it tears at me. I want to make you smile. Or scream out my name as you come. Or if you want to say ‘Would you like pie?’ at the end of any sentence to me, I’d be okay with that too.”

  One corner of her mouth tipped up and his heart seemed to hitch just a little too and then the ground at his knees seemed to fall away as he realized he was falling in love with Carmella Rossi.

  Oh fuck.

  Wisely, he kept this to himself. She was skittish as it was and he’d made it worse. It would take a while to rebuild what he’d messed up. In the meantime, he’d seduce her into falling in love with him right back.

  “Will you tell me? About the pills?” He tried to keep his hunger for details out of his voice.

  Carmella licked her lips and he had to swallow hard to keep from kissing her.

  Finally she spoke. “I can let a lot go. I don’t care if you check out other women’s asses as long as you keep your wits and your manners. I don’t care if you have to work overtime on a project. I don’t mind that you go out and rabble-rouse with your friends. But trust is something super important to me. I don’t share my private life with very many people. And never with those I can’t trust.”

  She sucked in a deep breath.

  Duke saw yet another facet of what a huge mistake he’d made with her. Risking it, he slowly took her hand, entangling his fingers with hers.

  “I’m a dumbass, but I am a good friend. And you can trust me not to reveal what you tell me if you don’t want me to. I won’t judge. Please tell me?”

  “The truth is what I already told you. The pills are my mother’s. I make sure she takes what she needs.” There was a nearly desperate tone in her voice and he felt even worse.

  As much as Duke wished he were closer to his biological family, he found the concept of a child taking care of a parent outside of real medical need pretty ridiculous. But he said he wouldn’t judge so he tried not to.

  She didn’t add anything else. He wanted to know more, but he also understood he’d have to earn those details.

  “All right. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you before.” He cupped her cheeks, relieved she hadn’t kicked him out yet. “I hurt you and I hate that.”

  “You did it from a good place,” she said, her voice very small.

  “In the end, the result is the same. I was careless with you. Do you think we can get past it? I promise to be worth it and make you come lots of times to make up for my mistakes.”

  “Please don’t make me regret this.”

  His heart nearly broke because she wasn’t teasing.

  He let go of her to make an X over his heart. “I’ll do my very best. I’m a risk, but I’m a good one.”

  “I think we can get past it.”

  “Thank goodness because I was going to have to bug you incessantly with my charm to get you back and that’s exhausting,” Duke said, hoping this attempt at levity went over better than the earlier ones had.

  Carmella rolled her eyes, looking down to where Ginger had worked her way between them. “What do you think?”

  He fished a treat from his pocket and Ginger, to her credit, looked to Carmella for permission before she took it from his palm.

  “She’s adorable, but loyal.” He pet the dog and then took a risk and kissed Carmella.

  Just three days since he’d done that last but it soaked into him as if he’d been starving for it. A sound came from his gut, one he’d have been embarrassed making for anyone else. But he wanted Carmella to hear what she did to him, just from a kiss.

  He wanted more but also realized he’d probably need to work his way back to that too. That and he found himself needing to make her better. And that should start with dinner and a beer.

  “I guess she forgives me too.” Duke indicated the dog with a tip of his chin.

  “I’d keep my bedroom door closed when she’s over there. She might leave you a present in a shoe.” Carmella’s smug smile made him laugh.

  “I’ll keep that in mind. How about you and Ginger come over to my place. Let me make dinner,” Duke said. “I’ve got some salmon to grill. Some corn from Mick’s garden. Who knew he’d be so good at growing vegetables? I have ice cream too. For dessert. I’ve missed you, so you should say yes.”

  “I guess I can eat.”

  He took her hand and they stood. “Come on, you,” Duke called out to Ginger.

  CHAPTER

  Twelve

  Duke had to admit he liked her in his house. She had a way of filling it, of being so together and calm he wanted to soak her in. It also meant he could smell her on his sheets, or a wisp of her in the air as he moved through the rooms.

  “Can you peel and slice some cucumber? I’ve got fresh tomatoes if you want to use them,” he told Carmella.

  He hoped so, because watching her cook was as hot as watching her organize or clean.

  “I can toss together a quick cucumber and tomato salad.” She opened a cabinet, pulling out a bowl, and he liked that too. Because it meant she’d been there often enough she knew where it
was. “Do you have vinegar?”

  Duke pointed, hoping he wasn’t too obvious about checking out her ass. “To the left of the sink. I think I have balsamic but I don’t know what else.”

  She tiptoed up to look through the bottles assembled on the shelf. “Rice wine vinegar. You have hidden depths, Bradshaw.”

  “I do? That’s good to know. Vinegar is an indicator of this?”

  Barefoot, she padded across his kitchen to grab one of his knives to slice up cucumber and tomatoes, swaying as she went. Her reserve was still in place, but not nearly as icy as before.

  “Among other things.”

  He made no attempt to hide the way he watched her as she peeled and sliced. Ginger made a little jingling sound, the tags on her collar swaying as she sniffed all the corners of each room, making sure she hadn’t missed anything in the three days he and Carmella had been arguing.

  “I promise you I haven’t had any other dogs over.”

  Ginger looked up, one of her ears flopping back as she gave him a very good impression of a dismissive snort.

  “She’s going to be tough to win back,” Duke said, but it was a tease.

  “She’s my protector.” Carmella’s smile told him she was amused. “He did give you a cookie. You can be nice to him now. If you like,” Carmella murmured to the dog.

  “I’m too charming to resist forever. And I have a whole box of cookies to share with dogs who love me.” He winked at Carmella before paying attention to the fish he was prepping for the grill. “Just sealing these up now.” He put some fresh herbs and lemon slices into the foil packets and folded them closed. “I’ve got potatoes and corn out there now so those will be ready by the time the fish is.”

  He took the stuff for the grill out and she joined him, ferrying supplies out from the kitchen to the table on his deck.

  Late summer in Seattle. The sky, past seven already, would be locked in a purple-and-orange twilight for hours more.

  “Your skin is even more beautiful in this light.” He paused to kiss her cheek as he returned from turning on some music. “I missed you, Carmella.”