A Reckless Note
Page 16
He means that, I believe. I read that in him, and for that reason, his words matter to me, as does his jealousy. I know what I felt with Kiki. I didn’t like it. “I’m with you. Just you, Kace.”
His hand slides under my hair and he tilts my face to his. “He’s dangerous, Aria, in ways you cannot imagine. Stay away from him.”
I want to give him what he wants, I want to just agree but it’s not that simple, not when Alexander represents resources I need to find Gio. Not unless I can negotiate a better deal with Ed. “I’ll be careful.”
“Damn it, Aria. If it’s money then—”
I shove on his chest and stare up at him. “Don’t say what you’re about to say. I have to deal with this on my own.”
“Because you think I won’t be here to help you deal with it?”
“I’m not going to just take your money. That’s not who I am or who we are. And you won’t be here forever, Kace. You’ve told me that already. You’re not the forever guy, remember? I’m not the forever girl either.”
He cups my head and presses his forehead to mine. “I’m present, baby. I’m present like I have never been with any other woman.”
My fingers curl on his cheek and I ease back to look at him. “As I am with you, but Alexander is business. I need you to trust me enough to know that I deal with men like Alexander often. I know how to keep them in their lane.”
“If he steps out—”
“I’ll step in, with my knee.”
His lips reluctantly curve. “I believe you would.”
“I would.”
“Good,” he says, but there is still an edge to him, a silent promise he will handle Alexander if I don’t, and I’m not sure if that’s about me or Alexander. Maybe both. For now, we’ve officially moved on when he eyes the bags by the bed. “What’s all that?”
“I took what I need for the weekend.”
He cast me in a keen inspection. “Because you don’t like that stuff?”
My chin lifts. “I have what I need.”
“Which you based on price tag, right?” He doesn’t wait for a reply. He unzips my suitcase, and proceeds the place all the bags inside. Once it’s zipped back up, he says, “Now we’re ready to go.” Already he’s hauling my bag and grabbing his by the door. “Come on, baby. We have a chopper to catch.”
I don’t fight him. He’s won the battle of price tags and done so easily.
Once we’re on the main floor, my gaze shoots to the spot where his Stradivarius had once been and is now missing. “It’s my violin of choice,” Kace tells me, obviously noticing my attention. “It’s going with us.
“That’s an expensive instrument to travel with,” I point out.
“That’s why I pay for security,” he says as we head out into the hallway. “I love the thing too damn much to be without it.”
“Are you auctioning off another instrument at the event like you did at Riptide?”
“I will,” he says, locking up while I help him juggle the bags, “but the donor has handlers for the instrument. I handle my personal instrument and you can finally get a closer look in the Hamptons, if you like. And if you can get past whatever fear you have of it, I’ll even let you touch it.” He says it with a double entendre that has me laughing.
And we’re still laughing about something else when we reach the apartment lobby which has me thinking about just how much I laugh and smile with Kace. Perhaps more than I have in my entire life. But there was truth in his words, too. I didn’t want to touch it last night. Kace brings me closer to my past than I’ve ever been, and for reasons, many that I can easily explain, like danger and my mother’s warnings, I resist going there. But there are other reasons, too, others I can’t explain or quite name.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Our mood is light as we step into the elevator, and then the lobby of Kace’s building, the call from Alexander behind us, at least for now. We’re just exiting the building when a doorman in a blue jacket hands Kace a garment bag. “Exactly what you ordered,” the doorman states. “And your keys are in your car. Plus,” he holds up a finger and walks to the wooden stand where he grabs something and returns with a bag. “For you, from my wife.”
“Oh man,” Kace says. “Is this what I think it is?” He smells the bag. “It is.”
Steven gives a nod. “Banana bread made fresh this morning.”
“Your wife spoils me.” He motions between us. “Steven, this is Aria. And Aria, this is Steven. He’s been here thirty years. His wife needs to have her own bakery. You’re in for a treat.”
“I can smell it,” I say. “It smells delicious. And we haven’t eaten all day.”
Steven beams. “So happy we came through for you then, miss.”
“We’re gone for the weekend,” Kace informs him. “But tell Sharon thank you.”
“Safe travels, you two,” he calls after us as we head for the car.
I wave at him but the “we” in that statement Kace just made is presently doing funny things to my belly and chest. I’ve never been a part of a “we.” Is that what we are now? Have Kace and I become a couple?
Almost as if he reads my mind, Kace catches my eye and winks before bringing me into the story he shares with Steven. “His daughter is an aspiring violinist. I wrote a letter of recommendation for her application for Julliard.”
There’s a pinch in my chest over a dream that was once mine, but that was a lifetime ago, a dream I really do not crave anymore. It’s family I crave. And Kace. Somehow the hollow of loss is gentler when I’m with him.
“Then she’s good,” I assume.
“Very,” he confirms, as yet another employee rushes to help us with our bags, including that garment bag, that has me rather curious.
“I got this,” the twenty-something man says. “You violin players need to protect your delicate little hands.”
“Delicate hands, big bow,” Kace jokes.
Obviously, it’s a dirty joke that leads to further exchanges between these two, who are clearly friendly. I laugh with them and decide that each moment I share with Kace, he becomes more and more human. As Sara said, he’s a man, just a man, and it seems Kace himself doesn’t forget this. I shouldn’t either.
Soon we are in his fancy sports car, my curiosity about the garment bag sliding away, with my excitement for the trip, but Kace doesn’t make any attempt to drive away. He pulls his phone from his pocket. “I’ll order coffee on my app if you’ll run in and grab the order so I don’t have to park?”
“Deal,” I say. “Coffee sounds wonderful.”
“Same thing you ordered at the bakery?”
“You remember what I ordered at the bakery?”
“You ordered my drink, baby. Yes, I remember.”
My lips curve. “Yes. I want the same thing as at the bakery.”
He punches in the order. “We have about five minutes. You have to try the bread. And you have to be starving. I damn sure am.”
“I am, but don’t we need to move from in front of the building?”
“The perks of being a massive tenant are sometimes worth taking advantage of. They’ll tell us if it’s a problem and we’ll move.” He grabs a napkin and loads it with a slice of bread for me and then does the same for himself. “Try the bread.”
We both take a bite and I moan my approval. “It’s delicious, and I really was starving.”
“It is,” he says, downing half a slice before he cranks the engine. “But we’re going to choke if I don’t get us that coffee. We’ll grab some real food when we land before I faceoff with Nix.”
He places the car in drive, and by the time we’re idled in front of Starbucks, my bread is gone and so is his. “I’ll be back,” I say. “If I’m not, I made a run for it with the coffees.”
To my surprise, he catches my arm. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t run, Aria.”
I rotate to face him
and press my hand to his face. “Are you going to give me a reason to run?”
“You have no idea.”
“At least wait until I have another slice of that bread. And coffee.” I kiss his cheek. “Please.”
He cups my head and gives me a toe-curling kiss before he says, “Get the coffee and bring you sweet little ass back here now.”
My lips curve, and this time when I reach for the door, he lets me. But as I steep into the chill of the air, I wonder what it is he feels I’ll discover, what he believes will make me run, because it’s clear there’s something there. But then, I have my own demons. Maybe it will be him who runs, not me. For now, I set all that aside.
I hurry to grab our order, and I’m back in a flash. “How many slices of bread did you have in the three minutes I was gone?”
“One more,” he said. “but I’m not done.”
I laugh and hand him his coffee. He sips and sets it down before he revs the engine and we’re on the road. I spy a charger and plug in my phone while he maneuvers us through traffic, mastering the car with the same ease he does his violin. Man and beast. They go together.
“My older brother, Gio, would love this car,” I say, eyeing Kace as he turns us down a new road. “You’d like my brother. He’d like you.”
He casts me a sideways look, a smile in his eyes. “Introduce me and we’ll find out.”
Just that easily, he tells me that the weekend isn’t just a weekend to him. It doesn’t end here. Unless it does, I caution myself. Only the weekend will really tell. “Gio’s off hunting treasures,” I say. “He and I don’t just own the business together. We own the building. We bought the place five years ago and had the upper level above our business renovated into two private apartments, so we each own one.”
“I consider my band to be family and I pretty much lived with them for years. I love those guys. I’ll miss seeing them on the road.”
“A change of heart already?”
“No,” he says firmly. “They’re family. That won’t change because we aren’t touring anymore. You’ll see why tomorrow in Austin.” He cuts down yet another street and glances over at me. “What am I sensing when you talk about your brother?”
“That obvious, is it?”
“To me, baby, but we’ve spent enough time together now that I might not know what’s beneath your surface, but I know it’s messing with you.”
“I’m just not happy with him right now. He’s not just gone. He’s not communicating at all.”
“And he normally communicates?”
“Unless he believes what he hunts puts him at odds with me. And by that, I don’t mean something illegal, but high value, yes. And high value comes with danger at times. He’s driven. If a client wants something and it’s worth a big payday, he takes risks.”
“And what does he want right now?”
“I don’t know his exact obsession,” I say, “but in this case, I’m not sure it’s an object. I’m fairly certain her name is Sofia.”
He cast me a sideways look. “Ah,” he says. “That’s why you asked me about Sofia. Is she a client?”
“All I know is not much,” I say, biting back my urge to say much more. I’ve only known Kace for a few weeks. I don’t know him well enough to trust him. Not with this. Not yet.
“You said she told him about the auction.”
“Or maybe he told her. I could have it backwards. I know they communicated about the violin. I know they’re romantically involved.”
“Perhaps she’s associated with the seller.”
“Who sold a fake instrument? That doesn’t make me feel better about him and her.”
“Obviously you’re worried about him with her. I’ll ask around and see what I can find out about her.”
“No,” I say quickly, aware now that I’ve said too much, I’m afraid of bringing attention to us we both don’t need. “No,” I repeat, “I don’t want Gio to feel that I don’t trust him, but thank you. And I admit to being a bit protective, but if you knew Gio, you’d think that was silly. He’s a player who is off doing what players do. And if anyone can take care of himself, it’s my brother.”
“For now,” he says, pulling us into a small airport, “you can get on a chopper with me and forget all that worry.” He pulls us into a parking spot and kills the engine. “Our adventure begins. You can tell Gio all the G rated moments when you both get home.”
My mind shifts in rapid speed from worry over Gio to me, the control freak, about to get in a helicopter. Nerves flutter in my belly and by the time he’s at my door, I’ve already opened it and I’m standing up. “I’ve never been on a chopper. I’m suddenly very nervous.”
He catches my hip and walks me to him. “Don’t be nervous. I’ve been on hundreds of choppers. We’ll be perfectly safe. Trust me, baby. I’ll take good care of you.” There is that crazy mix of wicked tenderness to those words that pool heat low in my belly and stir emotions in my chest.
He’ll take care of me. On some level, I crave someone to take care of me and I believe that stems from memories of my father taking care of us. But then he was gone and my mother was alone. It’s a dangerous thing to allow someone to take care of you, to love them and depend on them. As Kace and I walk into the airport, this feeling of being together, of being a couple, is in the air, I remind myself that he’s not a forever guy. I’m not a forever girl. And nothing is forever anyway.
This is just a weekend.
I’m going to enjoy it.
Then I’ll go back to reality, and I can figure out what that means.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Once we’re inside the airport building, it’s clear the entire crew knows Kace, and knows him well. It’s also clear that they like him and he likes them. The only person I’ve found to hold Kace in negative regard is Alexander, and I can’t help but wonder what that’s all about. For now, Kace introduces me to everyone we come in contact with, and it seems there is never a moment that he’s not touching me.
It’s not long before Kace is helping me into my seat inside the massive chopper and leaning across me to latch my seatbelt protectively. Everything about him right now is protective, and that I can’t help but welcome. There is a warmth between us that expands each moment, a pull like nothing I have ever known. The chopper roars to life, and all that is forgotten. There is only the control freak in me that my mother created, that now has no control. I am freaking out. Kace grabs my hand and speaks to me through the headset I’m now wearing.
“Easy, baby. Close your eyes. Then you’re not second-guessing the pilot.”
“I can’t do that.”
“You can. It’ll help. I promise.”
We lift off and his arm is around me, pulling me close. I do exactly what he says. I squeeze my eyes shut and bury my face in his chest, my fingers curled around his T-shirt. Once we level off, he convinces me to open my eyes, and I surprise myself by relaxing into the ride and the miles of cityscape and beautiful water below. Landing sets me off again and I’m back to clinging to Kace.
Once we are on the ground, Kace helps me from the chopper and into a chilly afternoon that seems to be growing chillier, catching my hand as we hurry inside. “Winter is here,” I declare as we step beyond the doors, a heater blasting us. “And I didn’t bring my coat. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“You won’t need it in Austin,” he says, “but I’ve got us both covered while we’re here, which won’t be long. I moved our flight up so we can have two nights in Austin.”
“I thought we were staying here tonight?”
“We were, but my agent sent me a text while we were in the air. His meeting was cancelled. That means he’ll be here, where he will pursue me the entire time we’re here. I’m not in the mood and neither are you, I promise you.” Our bags are handed off to us and Kace grabs the garment bag Steven handed him at the apartment, that I now see has a Chanel logo on it. He unzips it to reveal a k
nee-length black trench. “They didn’t have your size at the store, so they had to have it delivered from across town.” He pulls it from the bag and holds it out to me. “Come,” he orders softly. “Let it keep you warm until I can later.”
I step in front of him but I don’t turn. “You’re doing too much for me, Kace. I don’t need you to do this.”
“I do nothing I don’t want to do, Aria and when it comes to you, ‘I want’ pretty much means everything. Now, turn around and put this coat on before I starve to death right here in front of you and I’m close. It’s about to get brutal. Melting clothes. Screaming. Me in a puddle of mush on the floor.”
I laugh, despite myself. This man undoes me in every way. I push to my toes and kiss his cheek. “Thank you,” I say, and then slip my arms into the coat, which is a perfect fit.
“It’s perfect and beautiful,” I say, snuggling into it. “Thank you. For it and not melting into a puddle on the floor.”
His mood has done one of his one eighty shifts. He doesn’t laugh, instead he grabs the lapels of the coat and tugs me close. “I don’t want your thanks, Aria, but I do want you.” He kisses me hard and fast. “Just you. You understand?”
“Yes,” I say, not sure where this dark side has come from nor do I fight it. “And I just want you. Do you understand?”
Seconds tick by before he smiles, a whiplash shift of mood. “You are never what I expect.”
“Says Mr. Wickedly Intense who suddenly breaks out in a smile.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
There is an easy playfulness to him now that I eagerly embrace. “I’m sure you do.”
His cellphone rings and once again his mood shifts, his expression tightening. “And that will be my agent, who is exceedingly eager to harass me.” He releases me, snagging his cell from his pocket. “Yep. It’s him.” He hits decline and kneels next to his suitcase and proceeds to stuff my garment bag inside while removing his favored light brown leather jacket. Once he’s shrugged it on, his arm slides around my shoulders. “Off to war,” he says. “The battle will be brief but bloody.”