by Devney Perry
Hell, she didn’t even want to be seen with me.
I pulled into my driveway, Presley’s Jeep already in hers. Opening my email, I took a look at the photo and grumbled. But it wasn’t horrible. We could deal with this.
The zoom was too far and the shot partially out of focus. Presley was in profile, and her face wasn’t the primary target. Mine was.
We’d gotten lucky.
Shit. That picnic table stunt had been a stupid-as-fuck move. If a photo of that had been taken and leaked, Presley would have cut my balls off. I would have handed her the knife for being so careless.
I got out and jogged over to her house, checking over my shoulder to make sure no one was around. Besides me, the street was quiet. The next block over, some kids were playing outside.
At my knock, Presley swung the door open, greeting me with a sly smile. “Hey.”
“Hey.” I stepped inside, closing the door behind me. Then I cut right to it. “I’ve got something to tell you, and you’re not going to like it.”
Her smile dropped. “What?”
“Someone took a picture of us on the bike last week. Probably someone trying to make a few bucks and sell it to the tabloids.”
“What?” Her eyes went wide. “What does that mean? Do they know who I am? That we’re”—she fluttered her hand between us—“together?”
“My manager told them you were my assistant on location and that we were testing a bike for a movie. That’s all.”
“That’s all?” She wrung her hands in front of her chest and walked to the living room. “I don’t—I’m not sure what to do.”
“There’s nothing to do.” I followed her into the room. I put my hands on her shoulders, turning her to me. “Sorry. I know it sucks, but the best thing to do is ignore it.”
“Ignore it?” She looked at me like I’d grown another head.
“Yeah. Ignore it. The photo will go away. As long as we aren’t photographed together again, it will disappear. They don’t know your name, so it’s not like they can track you down.” Yet.
Presley’s eyes darted to the windows that overlooked the front yard. She raced toward them, dragging the blinds down.
I chuckled, but when she shot a glare over her shoulder, I pulled my lips together.
“I don’t want to be in pictures.” She stomped to the kitchen and opened the fridge, emerging with a fistful of carrots. She snapped one between her teeth, chewing with fury.
“It’s no big deal,” I promised. “It will go away as soon as I go away. But if you’re worried, we can end this now.”
I held my breath, waiting and watching her think it over. The last thing I wanted was for this to end. I wasn’t ready to give her up, that time would come soon enough. But I wouldn’t put her in a bad position. I wouldn’t force her to risk exposure to the vipers of Hollywood.
Presley’s chewing slowed, then it stopped and she swallowed. “No.”
Sweet relief washed over my body. I smiled and stepped closer, framing her face in my hands. “I love it when you tell me no.”
She lifted another carrot to her mouth, but I caught her wrist before it could travel past her lips.
And I put my own mouth there instead.
“What did you do today?” Presley asked. She was draped over my side.
“Worked this morning. Had a beer with Luke. Waited for you.”
“Another beer with Luke. Do I need to be jealous of this bromance? We are exclusive, you know. I didn’t mention that, but I expect you to be completely mine while you’re here.”
I grinned, tracing a circle on her bare shoulder. “I mean, I like you. But Luke? He’s something special.”
“He is dreamy.” She licked her lips. “He’s friends with Emmett. Sometimes I see him around town. He fills out that uniform shirt so well and the jeans he wears are—”
I pinched her ribs.
“Ahh!” she cried, laughing and swatting my hand away. “Kidding. I don’t even know the guy.”
“That’s right you’re kidding.” I laced my fingers with hers. “They’ll be no talk of dreamy cops unless it’s about the dreamy ex-cop currently naked in your bed.”
She propped her chin up on my chest. “Will you tell me about why you stopped being a cop? You said it was a different movie.”
“It’s a mess.” I blew out a long breath, brushing a lock of hair that had fallen over her eye away. I loved her hair, that it was unique and stylish and different, but I didn’t like that at times, it covered her eyes. I wanted to soak in the blue for as long as I had it.
“You don’t have to tell me.” She pressed a kiss to the sprinkling of hair on a pec. Then another.
If she kept it up, we wouldn’t be talking about anything.
We’d stumbled from the kitchen to her bedroom earlier, leaving a trail of baby carrots in our wake. Then we’d spent a few hours in her bed, safe behind her walls and covered windows where I could do whatever she’d let me do to her lithe body without the risk of anyone noticing.
Fuck, she was flexible. Presley could do this thing with her legs where one was wrapped over my shoulder and the other hooked around my knee. We’d been experimenting with positions and though I was twice her size, she had this way of wrapping herself around me.
Presley was the best lover I’d had in my life, bar none.
“I’ll tell you,” I said, shifting us both to our sides. My stamina was at its peak, but she’d worn me out and I needed a minute to replenish my reserves. Then she could kiss me wherever she wanted.
She propped up on an elbow, her beautiful eyes locked onto mine. Presley listened so intently. She gave me her entire focus, something that seemed rare these days when there was always a screen to steal someone’s attention.
“I grew up in California,” I told her. For this story, it was important to start at the beginning. “My dad was a cop, and I always wanted to be a cop. It was simple. Every Halloween, I dressed up as a cop. Every time a teacher asked me to draw a picture of a hero, it was a cop.”
Actually, it had been my dad. I’d wanted to be my dad.
It stung, thinking of those days and the blind adoration I’d had for my father. I had so many good memories to recall, but when I saw them now, they were covered in a gray film. They’d been clouded by his actions.
“I’m going to tell you something you’re not going to like,” I said.
“You keep saying that to me today.” Her body tensed beside mine. “What?”
I gave her a sad smile, silently pleading for her to understand. “I know you hate him, and I get why. But a part of me needs to believe that once, Marcus Wagner was a good man. That he wasn’t always a bad cop.”
Presley was motionless, not moving even to blink. She kept her gaze on me as my confession stole into the room.
I wouldn’t blame her if she got mad. From her pillow, I would have been angry too.
But slowly the tension eased from her body and understanding seeped into her expression. “Your dad. Something happened.”
“Yeah.” I nodded, so damn grateful she’d listened and heard the vulnerability in my words. “I haven’t talked about it, at all really. Just with my mom. She’s the only other person in my family who knows, not even my sisters.”
“You don’t have to tell me.”
“I want to.” I touched her jaw, needing the softness of her skin before I continued. Her face, that skin, it grounded me. “Dad was a cop his entire life. A good cop. He worked hard and was honest. Then I don’t know what happened. Money got tight. All three of my sisters were in college or just graduating. Dad . . . I don’t know what he was thinking.”
To this day, I didn’t understand. How had a man with such character, such integrity, made such a catastrophic, moral mistake because of money? If he had talked to us, we would have pitched in. My sisters would have taken out loans. I would have thrown my salary into the mix. But Dad had shouldered the burden alone.
The one and only time I’d tried talking
to him about it had ended in disaster. I’d been too angry to listen, and I hadn’t spoken to him since. The disappointment was too crushing, because he’d been my hero.
“Dad was collecting evidence at a drug bust. I’ve been to a few of them before and it’s insane. Usually, there are drugs everywhere. Sometimes, there’s money too. Mostly it’s left out in the open, but I’ve found money stashed in toilets and kitty litter bins and dryers. Dad found a roll in a little kid’s shoe. Instead of cataloging it for evidence, he put it in his pocket.”
Presley gasped. “And he got caught?”
“His captain was going through Dad’s report a week later and there were some inconsistencies. Mistakes Dad never made, so he called Dad in to ask about it. Dad said it didn’t take more than one questioning look before he confessed to the whole thing. He returned the money, every dollar.”
“W-wow,” Presley stuttered.
“Yeah, wow. He did the right thing, owning it and not spending that money. But he shouldn’t have taken it in the first place. He crossed the line.”
“Did he get fired?”
“Pretty much. Technically, he retired early. His captain made him turn in his badge, but he got to keep his pension.”
“Did he tell you about it? How did you find out?”
“He told me.” I nodded. “He invited me over the day he admitted it to his captain and laid it all out for me and Mom. It was six months after the school bus.”
“And that’s why you quit.”
“Yeah.” I turned on my back to stare at the ceiling. “I was the new guy on a SWAT team and still in training. I left Mom and Dad’s house and drove home. I was supposed to work a night shift, but I called in sick. I don’t know why but I couldn’t go to work.”
Maybe I feared that I’d become my father. Up until that point in my life, I’d followed in his footsteps.
“There was an agent who’d been calling me since the bus. It wasn’t the same agent I have now. I fired him because he was a ruthless bastard and hired Ginny instead. But I had this guy’s number. He kept calling me once a month to see if I was interested. He said he could get me in with a well-known casting director. He had a hookup. I’d been dodging him but had never outright told him no. That night, I went home and called him. I just . . . I couldn’t be a cop anymore. I was too heartbroken. I didn’t want that to happen to me.”
“It wouldn’t have.”
“How do you know?” I turned on my cheek to look at her. “Cops don’t make a lot of money. You have kids. You get strapped. I see my buddies struggling with it all the time. They have nothing extra to go around if their wives don’t work. And I had this once-in-a-lifetime chance, so I took it.”
I’d turned into Dad after all.
I’d given up my righteous career for money.
“I’m ashamed of it.”
“Why? People change jobs all the time, Shaw. They do what they need to do. You’re not a sellout. You just changed.”
She made it sound so simple. So innocent. Would I have had this internal battle if I’d become a banker or a mailman or a football coach?
“Maybe you’re right.”
“Of course, I’m right.” She grinned. “Why didn’t your parents tell your sisters?”
“Because I asked them not to. Dad wasn’t just my hero; he was theirs too.”
“And you didn’t want to take that from them.”
I nodded. “By some miracle, no one found out. A lot of people have dug into my past, but it’s stayed quiet.”
Hopefully by now, there was nothing to find. If it surfaced, it would destroy my father.
It would destroy my family.
“I’m sorry.” Presley put her hand on my heart.
I covered it with mine. “Me too.”
She lifted up and pressed her bare chest into my side. Her hands dove into the strands of hair above my temple and her lips hovered an inch from mine. “Thank you for telling me.”
“Thanks for listening.” There was a lightness in my chest, one that hadn’t been there in a long time. I flipped us both, pressing my growing arousal into Presley’s leg. “Now that’s enough talk.”
She smiled. “Agreed.”
Chapter Fifteen
Presley
“I’m going to miss this,” Shaw said, his eyes glued to the yard. “I forgot how nice it is to do nothing and relax.”
His profile was toward me, highlighting the straight line of his nose and his square jaw. I’d forgotten how it felt to like someone. How it felt to crave someone.
I would miss this too.
We’d started this as a fling but it had morphed into an eye-opening experience. Shaw had reminded me how it felt to be touched. How it felt to be kissed. He’d reminded me how it felt to race home so excited to see another person that you stood beside the door, bouncing on both feet, practically coming out of your skin until finally they arrived and it was the best part of your day.
Saying goodbye this week would be brutal, but I was grateful he’d come into my life. Shaw had shown me what I’d missed with Jeremiah, what our relationship had lacked—passion, trust, friendship. He’d shown me what to expect down the road when I was ready to date again.
It would take time.
Shaw had stolen a part of my heart and I was planning on holding on to the piece I’d stolen from his, just for a while.
Since he’d told me about his father, our conversations hadn’t been heavy. We’d spent most of our time hidden away in my house, mostly in my bedroom. He’d been so busy that our hours together had been limited. Tonight was the first time he’d come over before midnight.
So we were on the deck, drinking a beer and doing nothing. We were simply together.
Relaxing.
That was not an easy concept for me to grasp or practice.
I’d spent my childhood walking on eggshells. Even after I’d moved to Clifton Forge, it had taken me a long time to calm my constant nerves. They hadn’t truly settled until I’d lived alone. With my roommate—now landlord—I’d been on my best behavior, making sure I’d tidied up at every turn.
After she’d moved out, I’d kept it up because that was how I’d lived my life. Then one day, I’d left a pan in the sink to soak. Normally, I would have scrubbed it clean, no matter how long it took. Instead, I’d left it and gone to work.
I’d nearly had a panic attack that morning and had come home at lunch to clean it up, but it was the first time I’d let go a little.
That was harder to do with another person. What if they saw my flaws? What if I messed up and was punished or hated? Maybe the reason Jeremiah and I hadn’t worked was because I’d been too focused on perfection.
Or maybe he was just an asshole.
Asshole. Definitely.
Shaw had broken through my defenses and left me untethered. To the past. To my insecurities. To expectations.
He was leaving in five days, so why hold back?
I hadn’t, and I was better for it.
“Thank you,” I said.
He looked over. “For what?”
“For being perfect.” I’d been so rude and cold to him at the beginning, but he hadn’t given up on me. He was still here. He’d trusted me with his skeletons, and I was learning to trust myself. If I wasn’t perfect in every way, he wouldn’t leave.
“I’m not perfect, Presley. I’m just a man, flawed like any other. The perfection is an illusion.”
No, that wasn’t right. He was perfect because he saw his flaws. Because they made him human. He embraced them. Owned them.
He’d shown me it was okay not to fear my own shortcomings and their consequences.
“Then thank you for being kind.”
Shaw’s forehead furrowed. “How else would I be?”
“Unkind.”
Until I’d moved to Clifton Forge, I’d known mostly unkind men. To this day, the jerks were easy to find.
“We don’t talk about you,” he said.
“No.” I
turned my eyes to the yard.
“Why?”
I lifted a shoulder. “I don’t like my story.”
It was not a movie I’d want to see.
Shaw reached over with his free hand and rested it on my elbow.
There was no question behind the gesture. He wouldn’t pressure me into talking about my past. He told me without words that if I wanted to talk, he’d listen.
With the few days I had left with Shaw, I wasn’t going to waste them with ancient history. I had a family, one he’d already met at the garage. I’d found them the day I’d started working there, and Draven had been the father I’d needed.
While Shaw had taught me it was worth trusting a man in a relationship, Draven had taught me how to trust a person, period. He’d shown me that unconditional love was no myth.
Draven had loved his children, and I liked to think he’d always lumped me in with them as an unofficial daughter. Draven had loved his wife. I’d never met Chrissy Slater, but Draven’s love for her was undying. It was so strong, I loved her, a stranger, because he’d loved her.
I missed him.
I missed my sister.
I’d miss Shaw.
I was tired of missing people.
A sting hit my nose and I rubbed away the threat of tears. I’d been doing so well, seeing Shaw for all the good things he’d brought to my life. But he was leaving. He’d disappear and the only place I’d see him was on screen.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Who was the worst costar you ever had to kiss?” I blurted, wanting to change the subject.
Shaw squeezed my arm, then brought it back to the armrest of his chair. “Dacia.”
“Really?” My jaw dropped. “I would have thought it was the time you had to kiss Aquaman on Saturday Night Live.”
“That clip will haunt me forever.” He chuckled. Both huge, handsome movie stars had cringed afterward and laughed hysterically, trying to regain composure to deliver their lines. “But no, it was Dacia.”