Chapter 13
Liam woke and stretched. His eyes flew open when he remembered the happenings of the night before. Sitting up in bed, he looked around the small room. It hadn’t been a dream; he was living as a human.
“Hot damn,” he whispered and threw off the covers, feeling the breeze from ceiling fan on his bare skin. He opened the door and peeked down the hall. Apparently, Adela was still sleeping.
He shut the door and crawled back into bed. Closing his eyes, he let his mind wander, and it ended up on Annie.
Two days before Annie died, he had bought a ring and was going to ask her to marry him. He had it all planned out, and the boys from his fire company were going to help.
The plan was to roll up to her building at work on the ladder truck, lights and sirens blazing. Liam had purchased a large banner online that said, “Annie, please marry me,” to hang from the side of the truck. Liam would be on top of the truck down on a knee with a bouquet of roses. Sure, they’d get in trouble for using public resources for private use, but nothing that would affect any of their careers. Liam was ready to go and was just waiting for the banner to arrive.
It did, the day of Annie’s funeral, and as Liam burned it out back in a garbage can, he hated himself even more. It was that day he decided the pain of losing the one you love wasn’t worth the happiness that it brought. He would never, ever fall in love again. As long as he put his life into high gear and lived fast and loose, he would never be around anyone long enough for love to take hold. He didn’t want it, and frankly, he didn’t deserve it.
He had never told anyone what truly happened the night of Annie’s death.
Liam had worked his usual twenty-four-hour shift and he was exhausted. When he returned home from work, Annie was through a bottle of wine and demanded that they go out to dinner. He reluctantly relented, and they went to a steakhouse where she had more to drink. By the time they finished eating, Annie was plastered and Liam was angry.
Throughout dinner she had complained that he didn’t love her, and that perhaps it was time for them to break up, even if she didn’t want to. She said that if he really did love her, they would have been married by now. Three years of dating was too long to go without a marriage proposal. The more she drank, the more belligerent she became, and the angrier he got. He thought about spoiling the whole surprise, but with the way she was acting, he didn’t even want to be in the same room with her, let alone ask her to marry him.
They had gotten in the car and Liam was about remind Annie to put on her seatbelt, but he was so angry and irritated with her he didn’t want to speak to her. He had driven home too fast, anxious to get her into bed. As she sat in the passenger seat and cried, Liam stepped on the gas. Frankly, he was on the brink of losing his patience with her.
A Dingo ran into the middle of the road and Liam swerved, stomping on the break, but not fast enough to avoid the tree. Liam blacked out momentarily, and when he came to, he looked over to the passenger seat.
Annie wasn’t there.
The impact from the crash had sent Annie through the front window, and he found her three feet in front of the car. Dread had washed through him as he noted the disturbing way her head twisted to the side. From the second he set eyes on her, he knew she was dead, but it didn’t stop him from trying to save her. He performed CPR until the medics arrived, and they had to pull him away so they could work on her.
He had never been found of any wrongdoing, but Annie’s death weighed on his soul. It had been his fault.
There were so many things he should have done differently that night. If he had had the guts to ask her to marry him a year earlier when he wanted to, they would have been at dinner as a married couple, and Annie never would have felt so let down by the situation.
He never should have left the house while so exhausted. He most definitely should have made her put on her seatbelt. He should have slowed down on that stretch of road. He knew from experience the area had a high animal population and they darted across the road all the time, especially at night.
He should have had more patience with Annie because she had been right. They had been dating a long time, and it was his own fears that kept him from asking her to marry him—his fear of commitment. He knew he loved Annie, he knew that he wanted to be with her, but the thought of marriage scared the hell out of him. Spending the rest of his life with one person? That person would have to be pretty special. He knew Annie was the one for him, but there was something about that level of commitment that made his gut clench.
Perhaps he should have just asked her right then and there at that horrible dinner, or at least told her of his plans, but then she wouldn’t have believed him or thought he meant it. He’d been in a difficult situation, was exhausted, and instead of being patient with Annie, he’d just wanted to get away from her.
Turning over, he tried to steer his thoughts away from Annie. He focused on being human again. The air from the overhead fan felt cool against his skin, the soft, cotton sheet caressed his body. He was excited about being human and made a mental list of all the things he wanted to do. First, he recognized the pangs of hunger and decided that he wanted a huge breakfast of bacon and eggs with the works. He remembered seeing a small café down the street, and after a shower, that was going to be his first stop. He was looking forward to the shower, as he had always enjoyed those while alive.
Another thing he had enjoyed was beer. There was nothing like a cold beer on a hot afternoon, or kicking it with the boys, watching football on the telly, and tipping back a few. Surely the powers-that-be in Heaven wouldn’t mind if he imbibed a little?
He got out of bed, pulled a blue terrycloth bathrobe from the closet, and slipped it on, loving the softness of the garment against his skin. When he entered the hallway, he heard humming, and he noticed Adela’s door was now slightly ajar.
He walked down the hall with the intention of peeking in and saying good morning, then resuming his trip to the shower. He pushed the door open more, but the words he wanted to say got stuck in his throat.
Adela bustled around the bed, straightening out the comforter, wearing nothing but a purple silk nightgown. It caressed the curves of her body and rode up and down her legs as she bended and reached while rearranging the bedding. Her blonde hair fell messily around her, and he caught a glimpse of a breast when she leaned over and set down a pillow.
He quietly shut the door before she busted him and went into the bathroom, very aware he was sporting a raging erection.
The hot water felt wonderful against his skin, and he closed his eyes while the spray pounded his back. Leaning his head back, he ran his hands through his hair as the water soaked it. He concentrated on the sensations of the water hitting his skin, the little rivulets cascading down his body.
Good God.
Never in his wildest imagination had he ever thought Adela would be so damn perfect. Sure, she was pretty, but that little purple silk number brought up all sorts of salacious images, and all of them had to do with Adela’s legs wrapped around him. He looked down at his hips and knew that bad boy wasn’t going away without some help.
Sighing, he grabbed the soap and lathered up his hands, letting his desires for Adela play behind his closed lids. It only took a couple of minutes of his soapy hand running up and down his shaft for the orgasm to curl his spine, and he bit his lip to keep from crying out.
Breathing hard, he sank to his knees, tasting blood, and realized that he had missed orgasms more than beer.