“Sure, Mr. Slade.” I scratched the back of my head. “Anything you need.” I owed the guy, after all. He’d played a major role in keeping Rocky alive. And a little physical activity would do me good.
“None of that Mr. Slade crap. It’s James.”
“All right, James.” I met him eye to eye. “Need me this morning?”
“Why don’t we see how the little one does. You get a break, you come find me.”
“Sure.”
With that, he headed toward the barn.
I made my way inside, shaking my head.
Moriah
I shook my head. Pinched the bridge of my nose. Drew a deep breath. “Sure. Sure. I understand. Thank you for your time.”
Another dead end.
I ticked off the ninth contact on my job search list.
“It’s okay. It’s okay. Like Mom always said,” I mumbled to Mim, although I knew she wasn’t listening. “‘God closes one door, he opens another’.”
Maybe Mom had been right.
I’d told Matthew I wanted kids, and he shut me down—door closed.
Bam! A child dropped into my lap—door open.
I had always wanted to travel, get out of Shelbyville. Matthew hated traveling, and Mom got sick—door closed.
Boom! An impromptu trip clear across the country—door open.
Although, the unexpected opportunities did seem to pose more challenges than I was capable of handling.
I glanced over my shoulder. Mim stood at the window, fingers pressed to the glass. She hadn’t moved for at least ten minutes.
“Hey, Mim.” I made a slow approach, careful not to startle her. “What’re you looking at?”
She didn’t cower when I came to her side, and sweet Lord, that made my heart soar. I pulled the lacy curtain aside and glanced down at the expansive yard.
Sweeping left to right, I found the target of her attention. Dane. Shirtless. Covered in ink. Mostly black and white, with a few splashes of color. Muscles taut. God. I’d been naked in bed with the man, but I hadn’t really seen him naked. We’d been in the dark both times he’d… I shook the thought away, my cheeks heating.
He was beautiful, in a tragic sort of way. Thick with bulk that seemed more armor than vanity. A scowl on his face that looked more like contrition than concentration. He forced a shovel into the ground, scooped the grass and dirt, and then tossed it into the pile at his side, his muscles flexing and rolling and bunching and… Oh, God. I had to stop.
“Mim.” My breath fogged the glass.
She ignored me.
“It’s so pretty outside. You feel like going down to the beach, or maybe I could push you on the swing?”
No response.
“Dane sure does look thirsty. He probably needs a big glass of water. You think we should bring him some water?”
The little girl gasped, then ran to the bed and found her shoes. In a dash, she was down the hall and headed toward the kitchen.
I chased behind, watching her wild hair bounce across her back, unbrushed, untamed, so much like Mickey. We reached the empty kitchen, and she knew right where to go, sliding a step stool across the tile and climbing up to reach the cupboard where the glasses lived.
Vile jealousy rolled through me, and I hated that weakness. Would she ever respond to me the way she responded to Dane or Rocky?
“Hey. It’s almost lunch time. I bet he’s hungry, too. Maybe we should make some sandwiches.” I knew better than to wait for a reaction.
While she filled a glass with ice, then water, I pulled bread out of the cupboard, then dug through the fridge, happy to find sliced cheese and deli meats. Clueless to his palate, I found the mustard and mayo, lettuce, pickles, too, and laid everything on the counter.
“What do you think he likes? Ham, salami, turkey, or maybe all three?”
Mim pushed the stool next to me and climbed up. She seemed to contemplate her choices, then lifted bright eyes to mine, and pointed to the ham.
“Ham it is.”
“Think he likes mustard?”
She nodded.
“Mustard it is.”
We continued that way until we’d made three sandwiches, all varying combinations, one of them extra heavy on the pickles.
“Three sandwiches should be enough to fill him. Now, what about you?” I laid two slices of bread in front of her. “What do you want to eat?”
She shook her head, then climbed down the stool and headed for the pantry and disappeared behind the door. She came out seconds later with a bag of corn chips and a paper plate.
“Good thinking. Boys love chips!” I piled the sandwiches on the plate, grabbed the glass of water, and together Mim and I headed outside.
We passed Lettie and James on the way. The couple pretended they hadn’t been hanging back in the hallway, giving my niece and me our space.
“Hi, guys.” I winked. “We’re just taking Dane some lunch. We’ll clean our mess as soon as we get back, right Mim?”
Mim continued through the door, a healthy spring in her step.
The stench of cigarette smoke permeated the air. When Dane noticed us coming his way, he drove the shovel straight into the earth, and rested an arm across the handle. A white cancer stick hung from his lips. My stomach soured.
Hadn’t noticed he was a smoker. Then again, I’d never smelled the vile scent on his clothes, or his breath. Odd. Being extra sensitive to the odor, I could smell that poison a mile away.
“We brought you lunch.” I forced a smile, fighting a sudden wave of nausea.
Dane raised one brow, pinched the cigarette between his fingers, and dropped the stub at his feet, smashing it into the newly uncovered dirt.
He couldn’t take his eyes off Mim, and that damn green monster pinched my chest again, especially when a grin cracked the hard planes of his face, white teeth showing between his beard and mustache. “Lunch, huh?” he asked, rubbing a forearm across his sweaty brow.
Holding the glass his way, I blurted, “And water, too. Mim thought you looked thirsty.”
Mim smiled.
Dane grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head, covering all that sweaty, beautiful skin, then squatted. “Thanks, Little Lady. How did you know I was starving out here?” He fell back on his ass, crossed his legs, and gestured for us to sit, too.
I waited for Mim to claim her spot next to the hulking man, then I made myself comfortable in the cool grass. A warm breeze blew through the willow trees, and a boat jetted across the lake in the distance.
“Which one is mine?” Dane asked.
I waited a beat, giving Mim a chance to pipe in. When she didn’t move or speak, I offered, “All three of them.”
He laughed. A deep throaty chuckle that heated me through and through, targeting inappropriate places.
And sweet Jesus, he noticed, his eyes darkening to a lusty shade when they landed on me. My heart responded, its rhythm changing tempo, and I wondered if I was about to dance through another open door.
# # #
I listened through the wall while Dane put Mim to sleep, my eyes leaking something fierce. God, how I wanted to be the one holding her. She’d insisted on showering herself. Brushing her own hair. Dressing. But eating or going to bed? Those tasks she couldn’t do without Dane by her side.
And my period must’ve been getting close, because for some reason, her rejection, although expected, had set me on a crying spell I couldn’t break. I couldn’t fathom the hell she’d been through, or the hell my sister had been through, and maybe I was better off not knowing the horrid details, but how could I help if I didn’t know her triggers. How could I help if she wouldn’t let me into her little bubble?
I waited for an hour on the floor, my head against the wall, hoping to hear anything, any sneak peek into their world—their private space I feared I’d never be part of.
When I heard Dane sneaking out of her room, I hopped to my feet and waited, hoping he’d not pass my door.
A soft
knock made my chest pound, adrenaline spiking, and I took a long, slow breath before facing him.
A breath he stole the moment our eyes met.
“Hey,” he greeted me, gruff and sleepy. One hand shoved in the front pocket of his jeans, the other squeezing the back of his neck, that unruly hair falling over his face.
“Hey.” I tried to tame my voice, but the quiver gave away my unstable emotions.
“Aw, fuck.” In a move so strange coming from a man so daunting, he cupped my face and dragged his thumbs under my leaky eyes. “What now?”
“I don’t know. I can’t stop crying. Must be that time of the month.”
Matthew had always cringed when I brought up the subject of my period, said he didn’t need to hear about my lady problems. He often worked late those few days every month I was particularly sensitive and moody.
Dane only laughed, said, “Be right back,” and jogged down the hallway.
He returned minutes later holding two beers, a spoon, and a pint of cherry vanilla. “So, what’ll it be? Beer or ice cream?”
Oh God. Sweetness overload. I tossed my wad of tissues in the trash, threw myself on the bed, and covered my face with my arm. “I could use your mad tongue skills about now.”
Silence. Heavy, thick, palpable silence.
I peeked out from under my arm to find Dane staring down at me, not a lick of humor on his face.
“That was a joke,” I whispered, my voice catching.
The ice cream landed on the floor. A beer bottle hit his lips. He chugged. Swallowed. Inhaled. Blew out a breath. “Don’t joke about that shit.”
I sat up, leaning on my elbows. “What?”
“You heard me.” He stalked closer, took another drink, then set the bottles on the bedside table. “Been fucking torture keeping my hands off you.”
Oh dear, sweet Jesus, I wanted another go at that insanely beautiful man, but the timing sucked, and my life…my life…ugh. “But I’m a mess. And I’m leaving soon. And you’re leaving soon. And Mim. And thin walls.”
“Shut up.” He growled. Growled. Bared teeth and all, and holy wow did that snarl do dark and dirty things to my insides.
The beast fell over me, palms pounding the mattress, and claimed my lips in a desperate, bruising kiss—hard and fast and with a moan that crept over my skin, making every inch of me tight and tingly. He moved to my ear, giving the lobe a nibble, then whispered, “I’m gonna fuck you now.”
“What about Mim?” I managed to ask through my panting.
“Out cold.” He shoved a hand under my waistband, found my clit, and teased with a slow rub.
“What if someone hears us?”
“They won’t.” He sat back on his heels and tugged on my leggings until I was naked from the waist down.
“But—”
“You want my mouth on that pussy, or what?”
“Yes.” My core clenched tight at the thought.
He moved to the door, hit the lock, killed the light.
A deafening thump thump thump battered my ribcage.
Strong hands gripped my ankles, yanked me to the edge of the mattress, moved to my knees, and spread me wide. His beard tickled my thighs, the only warning before he swept his warm tongue over the length of me, then sucked my clit between his teeth, going straight for the kill, drawing me into mindless pleasure with sharp pulls and soft nips.
Thrashing, I tried to adjust, to find reprieve, slow his pace. Strong fingers curled into my hips, holding me steady, forcing me to lie still, absorb, and feel, and ride that torturous wave to the crest. When I thought I couldn’t take any more, he shoved a finger inside me, throwing me deeper into the swirling, pulsing, consuming sea of pleasure.
Silent rasps escaped me, “Oh God. Oh God. Yes, yes, yes…”
Fingers tangled in his hair, I came, the world bursting into blinding light, my body warming, thrusting, bucking against that beard, that face, that tongue, those lips. Devouring what he offered. For that delicious moment I was a greedy, beautiful, warm, wanton woman.
Spent, I relaxed into the mattress, struggling for breath, eyes wet, brain fuzzy. An empty condom wrapper landed at my side. Dane crawled over me, nestled his hips between my legs, and drove his hard length into me, the noise coming from his throat that of raw, unbridled desire. A long pause. His breaths hit my face, lips dusted mine, and then with whispered profanities and dirty promises, he pounded into me, taking his own pleasure, selfish and with no apology, and I melted, absorbing his thrusts and grunts, and shivering under his filthy words, and oh my God, that man… That man…he made me so, so thankful to be a woman.
He cursed his release into my neck. Collapsed at my side. Caressed my skin. Took me again, rendering me boneless, until we both gave way to the pull of exhaustion—spent, sweaty, and tangled.
In that hazy space between wake and sleep, I thought I heard him mumble, “Fuck my life.”
I laughed to myself and thought, yeah, eff my life, too, because I knew I’d never meet another man like Dane.
But thank God I’d had him for a few precious moments.
# # #
A child’s cries carried through the wall, jolting me into a state of consciousness.
I bolted upright, searching the bed for any article of clothing to cover my body.
I found a shirt, shimmied the cotton over my head, kicked my tangled legs free of the sheets, and dashed for the door, crashing into a naked chest.
A strong arm came around my shoulders, steadying me. “Hey. I got her. It’s all good.”
“But she’s my—” I stopped myself. True, she was my responsibility, but for the time being, Mim needed Dane, not me.
I couldn’t blame her. The man had a way about him. Arms that made you feel safe. A deep, husky voice that soothed. And despite his large, menacing appearance, on rare occasion, I’d catch a look in his eye that promised he’d destroy anyone who hurt those he cared about, and there was no denying he cared about Mim, although I suspected, a man like Dane would never admit such nonsense out loud.
“Go back to bed,” he ordered.
As much as I wanted to be the one to soothe my niece, I knew she wasn’t ready. I nodded, whispered, “Thank you,” and retreated.
Eventually, I told my wounded ego to be quiet, and trusted that Dane had everything under control.
Morning came too soon. Small breaths hit my nose, coaxing me awake. I peeled one eye open, then the other. Warm hazel eyes met mine. Nose scrunched, Mim brushed hair out of my face, her small fingers tangling in my morning mane.
I smiled. She smiled back, tracing the angles of my face. My cheeks, my nose. My chin. My eyelashes. I waited, heart in my throat, while she studied me.
Mim smiled again, pushed a finger to her lips, warning me to stay quiet, then pointed to Dane, who was fast asleep on the sofa, one leg on the floor, the other cocked against the back of the couch. One arm lay across his chest, while the other was draped over his eyes. Even in sleep, the man was too much, daunting and larger than life.
I looked back to Mim, afraid to move, afraid to scare her away. She tangled her fingers in my hair once again, then closed her eyes.
I stared, my heart so full it overflowed through my eyes. When soft snores escaped her lips, I rolled over, inched myself off the bed, and made for the shower, my skin still tender from the night’s activities.
When I returned from the bathroom, Dane sat upright on the couch, eyes heavy with lack of sleep, but bless the man, he held two cups of coffee in his hands.
“Morning,” he mouthed, rendering me breathless and tingly.
He tracked my movements, his lids heavy with exhaustion.
I took the offered mug, hitched one leg on the sofa, and sat, facing the mountain of muscle. “Did you get any sleep?”
“Yeah,” he lied, avoiding my glare, and gestured toward the sleeping angel on the bed. “She had a rough night, though. Woke up three times after I went in there. Finally brought her in here.”
My guts r
oiled. No child should have reason for such horrible nightmares.
“What happened to her?” I asked, terrified of the answer.
Dane shifted, his attention moving to the floor. “Bad shit, gorgeous. Bad shit.”
“Tell me.”
“Details won’t do you any good.”
“How can I help her if I don’t know?”
Lifting the cup to his lips, he sipped, swallowed, glanced toward the bed, then met my eyes. “The guy was a predator. I don’t know how long he had her. Don’t know much other than I found her in a hole.”
That awful clench in my stomach pulled tighter.
Dane studied me, brows drawn. “You really don’t want to hear this.”
“I have to.” As much as I wanted to curl into the pain, I forced my spine straight.
“The room she was in had a bed. Cameras and lighting set up. There were toys. Some for kids. Some not. And that damn hole.” His breath hitched, and I watched his throat work, the muscles strained. “The physical wounds will heal.” He tapped his temple. “It’s what’s in here that’s gonna take work.” His eyes glazed over, lips drawn tight, as if haunted by a painful memory.
Oh God. Had he been abused as a child? I knew nothing. Nothing about that man’s life, past or present, yet I was trusting him with so much of mine.
“How did you find her?”
Silence.
“Did you know my sister?
“Met her once. She did a few odd jobs for some of my buddies when she was sober enough. Didn’t know about Mim, though.”
“Mickey wasn’t a bad seed. She wasn’t. She wouldn’t let something like that happen to her daughter. Not my sister.” Although I spoke with conviction, the truth sickened me. Mickey had let something terrible happen, her addiction stronger than any motherly instinct or moral compass.
Dane set his cup at his feet, sat back, ran his hands through his hair, then laced his fingers at the back of his head. “Men like Wilson Kyle prey on single women. I suspect your sister was an easy target, given her drug habit.”
The temperature in the room seemed to spike, my tongue drying, head spinning. “I’m going to be sick.”
I rushed to the bathroom, my stomach protesting the flood of hurt, rage, and disgust.
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