Absolution (Honor Guard 1)

She held up a hand. “I don’t want to hear your excuse. I don’t want to talk to you at all. I’m going to go shower, and you’re gonna leave me the hell alone.”

She knew she contradicted herself. When his explanation had been interrupted before, she’d fumed. But now? Now, she didn’t want to hear him make excuses about why he had broken her heart. It didn’t matter. He’d destroyed her trust, and nothing would take the hurt away. Nothing would repair the empty hole he’d left inside her.

“Eva. I’m not going to beg you, but you have to at least hear me out.”

His eyes beseeched hers, and she ignored the plea. He never begged, so part of her enjoyed the power. Mostly, she feared his explanation—terrified she would forgive him and they’d be in her bed by nine.

She shook her head. “I’m going to go shower. Don’t follow me.”

He sat on the couch and leaned back with a mock smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

He gestured her toward the bathroom, using a superfluous motion of his hand, and reached for the television remote. CNN, she’d bet. Or maybe one of the stupid gun shows he so enjoyed.

He looked right at home, just as he would have if nothing had ever split them up. She stared at him, remembering how she used to bring him coffee on Sunday mornings, and her heart twisted. He would sit on the couch, going over files for work, and she would cuddle up next to him and grade papers. Then, when they’d finished their first cup of coffee, he would cook her breakfast.

She shook her head, forcing herself back to the present. She headed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Then, for added safety, she locked the door, ensuring the latch turned hard and loud.

Chapter Three

Joseph watched Eva’s retreating back and tried to ignore the pain in his chest as she ripped his heart out and carried it away. He tossed the remote back onto the table, giving up any pretenses of caring about what he wanted to watch. He knew what he wanted to see—Eva naked in the shower, soapy and wet with his hands on her body.

I’m such a fool.

Just because she’d asked him why he’d cheated on her didn’t mean he stood a chance at getting her back. She hated him, and believed him to be a sick bastard—a monster who didn’t give a damn about her or her feelings. Her body might still desire him, but she would never admit it. She wouldn’t tell him how her knees quivered every time he stepped close to her. He felt her though.

He knew.

But he also knew she’d never let him in her heart again, even though she still desired him. He’d ruined it all.

He listened for the shower to start, and about thirty seconds after it did, he hopped to his feet and strode into her bedroom—what used to be their bedroom. Everything looked the same but with one noticeable exception—there were no longer pictures of the two of them anywhere. In fact, there were no pictures at all.

He walked over to the bed and rubbed the indent in her pillow. She didn’t roll, his Eva. She would lie down and pass out as soon as her head hit the pillow. Always on her right side. And he had held her, burying his face in her hair while she slept. She’d smelled of cucumber melon after a shower, and to this day, whenever he caught the scent of it, his heart skipped a beat. He leaned down to inhale.

Yup, her pillow smells like her.

His penis hardened while, at the same time, his heart softened. If it worked the opposite way, his job would be a hell of a lot easier.

Straightening, he advanced on the closet where he’d kept his clothes. He swung the door open, and halted in his tracks. She’d left the closet empty. She hadn’t even put any of her clothes or shoes inside. The confines of the small closet remained barren.

Like my life.

Why hadn’t she put something inside? Was she saving space for the next lover? His heart protested the very thought of another man using anything in his place. His closet. His woman.

Or—and he liked this option far better—had she kept the space empty because it hurt too much to use the closet which had once been his? Did she miss him? Perhaps still care for him even a tiny bit?

The shower stopped, and he cursed. Dropping to his knees, he pried the floorboard open in the back left corner. The board came up without a fight, as it always had. Reaching inside the cubbyhole hidden beneath, he held his breath until his hand closed around the velvet box inside. He retrieved the case and glanced over his shoulder to make sure Eva wasn’t out yet. She usually took a long time to dry her hair, and he hoped that hadn’t changed.

He turned his attention back to the box, opening the lid. There, his secret rested. A princess cut, two-carat brilliant diamond shining on the size five white gold band, which would fit her to perfection. He’d checked and double-checked before sizing the band. Nothing would ruin the night when he would propose. Or so he’d thought.

But then he’d gotten drunk and ended up in bed with a stripper.

The squeaking hinges on the bathroom door warned him she approached, and he tucked the ring back in its hiding spot. He didn’t have time to secure the board without arising suspicion, so he swore under his breath and lunged to his feet. He turned around just in time to find Eva, wrapped in a robe and nothing else, standing in the doorway.

His c**k hardened, and his mouth lost all of its moisture.

Jesus, he loved her. And the way she looked in a satin robe.

***

Eva entered her room and froze a few paces inside. Joseph stood in front of his old closet, looking shamefaced. When she noticed his eyes darken with lust, her gaze lowered on its own accord to his crotch. Her mouth turned as dry as cotton balls at the sight of his penis straining against the fly of his jeans. With an inward groan, she flicked her gaze back to a safer area and found him studying her, but then noticed his gaze dart to the side of her face. He always did that if he had something to hide.

She tilted her head. Did she detect a hint of guilt on his face?

She swallowed and chose to ignore the horny part for her own sanity. This, and self-preservation. Because, damn it all to hell, she ached for him, too. More than she’d care to admit, thank you very much.

Hell, his cocky attitude made her want him even more. If he could be so confident of what she wanted out of bed, she knew he damn well knew what she wanted in it. All too well. Like when he stroked behind her knees and kissed her neck at the same time.

Wrong thought, Eva. Move on to something safer.

“Why are you in here? And in my closet?” She glanced over his shoulder, and saw nothing out of order. Of course not. The closet was empty, after all. She’d never wanted to use the damned thing after he’d left. She’d packed his clothes in boxes and closed the door. She saw no reason to open the door after that, even if she could have used the extra space. It smelled too much like him.