Dirty Little Secrets

by AJ Nuest

  Over the edge. Definitely over edge.

  “Fine!” Loretta’s sharp retort was accented by the repeating tap of her heels. “Have it your way.”

  Charlie wrapped her hands around the handle and yanked, but the blade refused to budge.

  The rapping increased, faster and louder, Loretta’s voice a harsh whisper as she closed in. “But don’t think for one second you’ve beaten me. I’ll just find it somewhere else.”

  Bracing her foot on Baldy’s shoulder, Charlie gritted her teeth and pulled, but the damn thing wouldn’t come loose. And they were out of time, out of time.

  A deafening shot rang out, and Charlie pivoted back toward the hall. Another blast, and Xander stumbled past the door, his hand centered on his heart.

  No!

  Scrambling over Baldy’s body, Charlie ducked her head and flew into the corridor. Xander stood stock still, eyes straight ahead, and she raced down the hall to pry his hand off his chest.

  Where was he hit? No blood, no blood. Frantic, she shoved his arms out of the way and ran her palms down his torso. A wail lodged in her throat as she patted his ribs. Dammit, where was he hit?

  “It’s not me. Charlie, it’s not me.” Grasping her shoulders, he pulled her against his body and wrapped her in his arms, covering the side of her head with his hand. “Someone else fired before she did. Sh-h-h…I’m okay.”

  Jesus Christ. She buried her face in his chest and released the sob threatening to burst her airway. That was too close. It had just been too damn close. “T-that’s it. N-no more t-time in the field.”

  End of story. Another sob wracked her shoulders, and she cinched her arms around his waist. She’d be lost without him. God, didn’t he get that?

  His chuckle rumbled in her ear. His full lips dropped to the top of her head. “Oh, yeah? And do what with all my time?”

  “I’ll think of something.” One night in that freezer, and she already had a list that stretched to the moon and back. As long as he was safe, she’d keep him busy. He could count on that. “Trust me when I say there’s zero downtime in your future.”

  “Hell, Chuck, I think you might just have yourself a deal.” Easing back from their hug, he lifted her chin on his bent index finger, leaned down and dotted her lips over and over with warm, soft kisses. “I’ve been waiting a very long time to get you locked behind closed doors.”

  So not a problem. A smile teased her lips as he bumped the tip of his nose against hers. And however long he wanted her there, that’s exactly where she would stay.

  “Looks like might we have a little cleanup to handle first.” He nodded down the hall and she glanced over her shoulder at the three suited Feds standing over Loretta’s body, the tall, dark-haired one speaking into his cell and the other two taking turns shaking hands with Eden, Kelly, and everyone else who’d come to see her safely back to Xander’s arms.

  Damn, Tanner, Detective Archer…heck, even Mocha had shown up.

  Wow. Talk about loyalty. Charlie’s vision blurred as love mixed with a hefty dose of appreciation. Her chin trembled over how each and every one of them had put their lives on hold for her.

  Their efforts had given her a second chance. With the man of her dreams. No matter how long or hard she tried, she’d never be able to repay them for everything they’d done.

  Tanner sneered at Detective Archer, and a quiet chuckle parted Charlie’s lips as she spun away from him and stormed down the hall. Or maybe there was a little something she could do, after all.

  “Loretta was right, you know.” Xander’s breath brushed her ear, and Charlie leaned back, meeting the beautiful sea in his eyes with a slight frown. “You are the key, Charlie.” He held her cheek, thumb sweeping the tender skin under her lashes. “My key. To unlocking everything. Since the first day we met and you stole my heart.”

  Geez, as if her knees weren’t already weak enough. A bloated tear spilled, and she covered his hand with her own, loving him so much, she went up on her toes to meet his kiss and she didn’t give two craps who was watching.

  “Lucky for me, I guess,” she whispered against his lips. “It’s a good thing I’m such a talented thief.”

  Chapter 19

  Charlie murmured beside him, and Xander lowered the screen on his laptop and gently eased the device beside the vase of red roses he’d centered on the nightstand.

  Good. With him just fresh out of the shower, she couldn’t have picked a better time.

  Other than the long, hot bubble bath he’d helped her take when they first got home, an abridged house call from Eden’s MD to make sure Charlie’s jaw hadn’t been fractured or pneumonia hadn’t settled into her lungs, the woman had spent the last two days nestled under a pile of thick blankets, lost to the world in a sound sleep.

  Not that he cared she’d been out cold the past forty-eight hours. After everything she’d been through, she deserved to log out of reality for a while. As long as he used this opportunity to get some solid food into her, he didn’t give a rat’s ass if they spent the next three weeks in bed.

  He reached for his cell, tapped a quick text to Eden in the kitchen, and hit send. Some thick hot soup would do Charlie a world of good, and then it was right back to sleep, if she needed it.

  A hint of her apple-infused skin scented the air as she stretched her arms over her head, her sweet ass bumping his thigh as she arched her spine like a cat. Or he’d always be happy to tug open that fluffy white robe and satisfy any other cravings she might have in mind.

  Bouncing around under the covers, she smiled and twined her leg through his, one of her arms draped across his waist and her cheek resting on his stomach like a pillow. “Best sleep I’ve gotten in a week.”

  “Good morning, beautiful.” Setting his phone on his laptop, he plucked one of the roses from the vase and brushed the petals down her cheek.

  Though the bruises had started to fade from a reddish-purple to more of a green-tinged maroon, her skin was still pale, and he didn’t like the thought all the missed meals had made her weak or drop a bunch of weight.

  Her curves were already perfect, and by his count, the last time she’d eaten anything of caloric value was Monday night following Malcolm’s wake.

  “Oh, how pretty.” She reached for the rose and brought it to her nose, and for the first time in his life, he grew jealous of a flower as she brushed the edge of one curled petal across her lips. “Who’s that from?”

  “The roses are from me.” He slanted his head toward the nightstand and her brows lifted as she eyed the overflowing vase.

  But it had seemed only right he do something to brighten the room while she slept. Leave a small sign to let her know he was close in case she woke up during the numerous trips he’d been forced to take downstairs and handle the million and one things begging for his attention.

  Like implementing a full upgrade to the security system, for example. That task had topped the list. Along with several other surprises he hoped to spring on his beautiful blond bombshell now that she was awake. “The rest are from…hell, pick someone.”

  In many ways, it had warmed his heart the way everyone wanted to make sure Charlie knew she was in their thoughts. Starting yesterday morning when Eden had knocked on his bedroom door, only to enter carrying a bouquet of some or another poofy pink flowers, placing them on the dresser with a hushed whisper they were from her and Kelly. Not two hours later, Archer had shown up on the doorstep to Smith Manor, a gigantic stuffed bear in a chokehold under his arm.

  Mocha, Tanner, DeFranco—they’d each brought enough pre-made meals and chocolate into the house to feed an army. And even Byrne had stepped up and ordered over two dozen Get Well Mylar balloons, compliments of the FBI.

  Charlie pushed to her knees, head on a swivel as she took in the gifts scattered throughout the room, left then right until her gaze finally revolved all the way back to him.

  “No way.” She slumped, the slight panic on her face making hi
m roll his lips to suppress a chuckle. “How long have I been out?”

  “Couple days.” He waved his hand over his cell and leaned toward the nightstand to check the time. “It’s almost two o’clock, Friday afternoon.”

  “Holy shit.” Her ass slid off her heels to the mattress. “No wonder I gotta pee so bad.”

  A grunt cinched his stomach as she scrambled off the bed, and he linked his hands behind his head as she disappeared inside the bathroom.

  The toilet flushed, water splashed in the sink and, a second later, she reappeared, swinging the door wide. “I swear, we must have the best friends in the whole world.” A running leap toward the bed, and he smiled as she belly-flopped beside his legs, then crawled up the blankets and snuggled right back where she belonged.

  Against his chest. Bodies touching. The way she fit against him making them one instead of two.

  “I mean it.” She shoved his feet. “Everyone here, all the people we’ve met in Chicago. They’re completely awesome, Xander.”

  “Oh, you’ll get no argument from me.” Not that he’d harbored any doubts after the way everyone had pitched in to get Charlie back, but any reservations he might’ve had disappeared the moment Byrne had told him Ben Archer had been the one responsible for taking Loretta down.

  Coming up on the scene to find Xander and Charlie were being held at gunpoint, Archer hadn’t hesitated to take aim and pull the trigger. And he’d earned a lifetime’s worth of thanks in return.

  Hell, as far as Xander was concerned, whatever he wanted moving forward, Archer only had to say the word.

  It was weird, in a way. Lifting Charlie’s hand from his waist, Xander brought her knuckles to his lips for a kiss. How Archer’s dedication and bravery had been the clinching piece he’d needed to confirm he and Charlie had finally landed in the one place they truly belonged.

  For the first time ever, he may have even gone so far as to state he had family. True friends he held no doubts would always be there for them through thick and thin.

  And speaking of which…

  Anxiety trickled into his stomach as he placed Charlie’s hand on his chest and covered it with his own. Everything he’d done the past couple of days had been for her. To show how much he loved her. He didn’t want to negate all that by turning around and suggesting they build a future together on a foundation that could one day easily crumble.

  She deserved better, and it was time he come clean. And if she accepted his gifts as a way of begging for her forgiveness, then so much the better. “So, you never answered my question. You know, from before? About whether or not you think we should keep the house.”

  “Oh.” Her fingers stiffened under his. “Geez, I don’t know. That’s a big decision to spring on a girl when she first wakes up. On the one hand, after everything that’s happened… If I were you, I’m not so sure I’d be able to give it up. But on the other, the upkeep on a place this size has got to be astronomical. Not to mention the insurance.” She grimaced. “Can you even afford it?”

  Yep. His heart kicked against her palm. There was his common sense Charlie, and damned if he didn’t love her even more for always keeping his best interests at heart.

  The only thing that didn’t sit right was the way she’d phrased her response. “First of all, the operative word here is we. Can we afford it.” Regardless of the friends they’d made in Chicago, whether they stayed in the house or went back to New York, she was his home. Period. “And secondly, I’m pretty sure the couple hundred million I stashed away for a rainy day will cover it.”

  Tipping her head back, she fluttered her lashes. “Very funny.”

  He waited, keeping their gazes locked, but no amount of unease could’ve stopped the slow curl of his lips as understanding wound to a glaring realization in her eyes.

  Damn, how was it her two-toned irises could always knock him out better than a sucker punch to the gut?

  “You’re serious?” She sat up, brushing her long bangs out of her eyes. “I always assumed you had money. I mean, with your talent, that’s sort of a given. But my God, Xander.” Her fingertips dug into his skin as she leaned in. “You’re filthy, stinkin’ rich.”

  There she went again. Speaking as if whatever was his wasn’t also automatically hers. But they’d already survived enough years staring at the blank slate of emotional bankruptcy. The last thing he wanted was for either of them to go back. “And thanks to the bank roll Malcolm left us, so are you.”

  She hesitated, and then slowly backed off. “Oh, no. No, no, I can’t let you do that.” Wriggling her hand out from under his, she wagged her finger as if scolding a bratty kid. “That money is yours, Dade. Malcolm left it to you and I’m not about to leech off your inheritance.”

  Leech? He wasn’t so sure leeching had anything to do with it. “Now, before you get all bent out of shape, you should know one of the stipulations of Malcolm’s will required each of us to log onto a private database and answer a series of questions to verify we were his intended recipients. Sort of a…proof-of-life thing.”

  And whether or not the old coot had been sending him a message, it didn’t take long for Xander to figure out any proof he’d ever existed landed squarely on Charlie. The same as it always had. “I took some time to see what kinda tricks Malcolm had up his sleeve while you were sleeping and, as it turns out, every single answer related straight back to you. One after the next either had your name, or your favorite color, or your birthday.”

  Sitting up, Xander brought over his laptop and flipped open the screen, logging on to the private account he’d created in her name. “And why, do you suppose, Malcolm did that?” He spun the laptop so it faced her and set the keyboard in her lap. “Because you gave me those things, Chuck. You shared them with me from the very beginning.”

  Before then, he’d never had a birthday. Never celebrated or known the first thing about choosing a color that was his. Survival had been the only thing that mattered. Not friends, or laughter, or even what it was like to touch another person without inflicting pain. “Malcolm knew that. Trust me when I say at least half the money is yours.”

  Her focus danced over the monitor, and his gut seized as that same annoyed, frustrated, half-shell-shocked-pissed expression she’d worn the night he’d kissed her outside the hospital appeared on her face.

  Damage control…damage control…

  Shit, would she notice if he fired off a quick text to Eden?

  She finally lifted her gaze, but from the glittering anger sharpening those hypnotic blue-gold orbs, she was prepping to nail his balls to the bed. “So I can do whatever I want with it and you won’t try to stop me.”

  Stop her? What was she—? “Why would I stop you?” He trusted her to do the right thing. More than anyone else, if it came down it. Even himself.

  “And if I wanted to, say, take a big chunk and put Millie in a fancy retirement home that would be okay with you?”

  Dammit. He raked his hand through his hair. But with all the distractions of the past few days, he’d completely spaced telling her the stuff he’d taken care of before they’d landed in Chicago.

  “I already did that. On the plane from New York. But it’s more of a spa than a retirement home.” He smiled. “Don’t worry. She’ll love it.”

  One of Charlie’s brows rose, and his smile slowly faded as she boosted her chin. “And if, for example, I wanted to hire Milo a private nurse, you wouldn’t care?”

  Well, son of a bitch. “Yeah, I did that, too. Sorry I forgot to mention it. Great agency. The nurse came highly recommended.”

  Charlie nodded, mouth twisted to the side. “And since you’ve already paid for Ellis’s medication, I guess that leaves me nothing else but taking care of your fee.”

  His shoulders dropped a solid inch. Oh, come on. There was no way in hell had the woman just said that to him.

  Tension crawled into his neck. He sized her up out of the corner of his eye.

 
Somehow they’d gotten off track. Like, way, way off track. But lying to her when he swore he’d never do that again? Not a chance. “I never charged my last client, Chuck. And even if I had, we both know if I couldn’t charge you two weeks ago, there’s no way I could take a dime from you now. You need to let that shit go.”

  “Uh-huh.” She glanced around the room—at the walls, the gifts, the floor—everywhere but at him. “So, that it? Or are you about bust out a few more surprises before this day is over?”

  What had just happened? His teeth met with a loud clack. This was not the romantic scene he’d envisioned by a long shot, but the woman consistently made his attempts at sweeping her off her feet look like he’d purposely set out to piss her off.

  Falling onto his elbow, he opened the nightstand drawer and fished around inside for the velvet box. A shove against the mattress, and he tossed it in her direction. “I was hoping you’d wear this. Like, for the next sixty years.”

  She flipped up the lid, peeked at the four-carat emerald-cut diamond tucked inside and snapped the lid closed. “No.” She threw the ring back and it hit his chest before tumbling to the blankets. “No way.”

  Jesus, women were confusing.

  “All right.” Tossing his hands in the air, he cried uncle. “What’s the problem?”

  “What’s the problem?” Charlie pushed toward the end of the bed, her foot tangling in the comforter. She muttered a few choice words and kicked it aside before hopping to the floor. “Boys are stupid, that’s the problem.”

  Wonderful. He sighed and dug his thumb and index finger into his eyes. Most botched proposal in history. “I fail to see how asking you to marry me is stupid.”

  “Xander.” She spun to face him, ticking off each of her points on her fingers. “You gave me half your money. You took care of my friends. You offer me an engagement ring that belongs on the red carpet and I have a sneaking suspicion you’re about to tell me I own part of this house.”