Rook Security Complete Series

by Camilla Blake

  “A date.”

  She didn’t say much, just sucked on that bottom lip that Atlas couldn’t keep his eyes off of.

  “The universe wants us to,” he informed her and had a short laugh sparking out of her.

  “Oh, really? And how do you figure that?”

  He walked to the window and dramatically gestured at the window. “Look at that sunshine! The birds! The fluffy clouds! Come on, it’s 68 degrees and sunny and Saturday morning. We’ve got the whole day to go on the best date in the history of the world.”

  “I don’t have anything to wear on a date.”

  He frowned, confused. “Wear what you always wear. You look cute as hell in your clothes.”

  That skeptical eyebrow was raised again. “You think I look cute in second hand t-shirts that go to my knees and baggy leggings?”

  “So cute,” he instantly replied. Because it was true. “You always look like you’re inviting me to crawl into bed and snuggle.”

  She blushed and laughed. “You’re saying that all my clothes look like pjs.”

  He shrugged and looked down at himself in his purple shorts and electric blue lobster shirt. “All my clothes look like pjs.”

  Apparently, she couldn't argue with that because she chose a different direction for the argument to go.

  “I’ve never been on a daytime date.”

  “They’re fun. They’re for people who like to do stuff.”

  “Are we those kind of people?”

  “We are. Trust me. I can tell that you’re one of my kind, Bex. Just because you’ve been hiding in a cave in my guest room for weeks doesn’t mean that you don’t like to do stuff.”

  Her eyes were rolling and her lips were pursed, but Atlas could tell that she was cracking. And he could tell that he was right.

  “Is this the kind of date where we could run some errands too?”

  He would have agreed to literally anything to get her out of the house. “Sure.”

  She put her cereal in the sink. “Because May gave me a stipend to buy some clothes that I can teach the class in.”

  “Yeah? That’s awesome! Lemme see here.” He pulled out his phone and found exactly what he was looking for. “There’s a ballet clothes store thingy right by the park in Park Slope. And it’s by the other place I want to go. Does that work?"

  She shrugged. “I dunno. Wherever I can buy fancy lady dance clothes.” Bex leaned forward as if she were telling some state secret. “She gave me five hundred dollars to spend.”

  Atlas grinned at how sweet Bex was. He knew how successful May’s business was. And though five hundred dollars was nothing to sneeze at, it probably hadn’t been a huge deal for May to fork it over and unfortunately, it probably wasn’t going to buy Bex as much as she thought it might.

  “Okay, let’s do it. You ready?”

  She disappeared into her room for a minute and when she came back out, her hair was different. A little smoother and shinier and she wore some sort of gloss on her lips. She also wore the jeans he’d only seen her wear once before and a sweater that had been cut to fall off one shoulder, the gleaming black strap of her bra cut across his view of her skin.

  Atlas groaned and couldn’t help but lightly bang his forehead on the doorjamb where he leaned.

  “What?" she asked worriedly, looking down at her outfit.

  “You dressed up for me.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “You have extremely low standards, Atlas.”

  “Not from where I’m standing.”

  She didn’t look like she really knew how to respond to that so Atlas raised his hand up, fingertips out toward her. “You look gorgeous and I want to lock the front door and kiss you from head to toe. But we’re not there yet, so let’s go on a date.”

  Instead of taking his hand, she just reached forward with her hand and brushed her fingertips against his.

  He’d take it.

  They started their date at the dance store and Atlas endured the sweet torture of watching her try on skin tight outfit after skin tight outfit. He also got to experience the acute joy of watching Bex blow money that wasn’t hers. He got the feeling that a spending spree wasn’t something she’d ever done before. She was still quite frugal, scouring the sale section and then haggling with the manager when she found a few pieces that had loose buttons and threads out of place. He figured that she got about twice her money’s worth and he was extremely impressed.

  He was dizzy and a little lightheaded by the time they left. He sagged onto the brick wall along one side of the shop, clutching at his chest.

  “Are you all right?” she asked worriedly, stepping into his space exactly the way he’d intended her to.

  “I’ll be fine. I’m just trying to force a little blood back into my brain. There’s something about those little sheer skirts that lit me up. And don’t get me started on the tights with the stirrup at the bottom.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “And the leotard with the halfsie sweater?”

  He groaned. “It was a bloodbath in there. The Boner Battle of the century.”

  “You poor, traumatized soldier,” she said dryly.

  “A kiss might help.”

  She bit her lip and looked around at the bustling street. “Here? What if...?”

  “Just a quickie.”

  She rolled her eyes at his wording, but there wasn’t any bite to it. With two quick steps she was suddenly in his space and kissing the breath out of him. She shocked the hell out of him by sucking his bottom lip into her mouth and tugging briskly with her teeth. Then she skipped back, out of his reach. A smile on her face. “That’s definitely the politest way I’ve ever been asked for a quickie.”

  She had a smile on her face so Atlas matched it, but as soon as she turned, his smile fell. His blood still raced from the hard press of her mouth against his, but his heart plummeted to the gutter at her flippant statement. Working in a strip club, she was sure to have met all types of douchebags who’d asked her for all types of douchebag things. He wished that she could take the weight of her former life and set it aside. Or, if it came to it, set it on his shoulders. He wished he could carry it for her.

  But he couldn’t.

  So, a date would have to do.

  And he attempted to do the hell out of it.

  Next, they ducked in to a hole-in-the-wall falafel place that he knew had a nice little back patio. They sat in the sun and stuffed their faces. She looked charmed when the owner, who Atlas knew, came out and razzed Atlas about his lobster shirt. After that, he swung her through one of his favorite bookstores in the city and he bought them two copies of the next book club book, even though she insisted that two copies was a waste. He didn’t care.

  He jumped into a bodega and filled a tote bag with snacks and little surprises and two crappy towels whose designs he thought she’d like.

  Again, he tried to hold her hand and again, she softened her refusal with a sweet little finger touch. He didn’t let that deflate him too much. He led her into Prospect Park, through the main entrance, where she marveled at the gold-fronted library and the Arc du Triomphe at Grand Army Plaza.

  He found them a place in the sun on the big field where it seemed half of Brooklyn was convening to enjoy one of the first summery days of the season. When he rolled out the two crappy towels, Bex laughed. One had a rather demonic-looking cat, lying with it’s arms behind its head and the word summer in cursive underneath, and the other was a very realistic-looking illustration of Brad Pitt’s face.

  “You want Brad or the cat?” he asked.

  She chose the cat and stretched herself out. “I think these towels are going to give us cancer.”

  “They’re at lease 90% carcinogens,” he agreed gleefully, stretching out beside her.

  The day warmed and he couldn’t get enough of her. He watched her watch Brooklyn. She watched men throwing frisbees with their kids, families bickering over the best way to fly a kite, middle schoolers on group dates, dog walkers with blaring
headphones and fifteen dog leashes in one hand.

  He brought her attention back to him every few minutes by revealing something else from his tote bag of tricks. A chocolate bar. A beach ball he blew up and they bopped back and forth for a while. Two beers they surreptitiously sipped in the sun. They fell asleep after a while, on their sides, facing one another, two seashells warming on the beach.

  It was the Saturday farmer’s market, so when they woke up, they wandered through there, booth after booth. He gave in to the urge to buy her a colorful hand-stitched wallet from a teen-aged kid selling them from a card table.

  “For your ID. And all the money you’ll be making at May’s,” he told her as he handed it over. This time, Bex was the one who tried to hold his hand. It didn’t last for long though. Her hand grew sweaty almost immediately, flexing against his. After just a few minutes, she dropped his hand and stepped away. He didn’t push.

  They were tired then, and decided to head home. “Reading date?” he asked her, holding up their new books as they came through the front door.

  They found themselves on either end of the couch, reading separate copies of the same book by dueling lamps. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d been more content.

  She kissed him very quickly that night. Three times. Never quite letting him get ahold of her. And then she disappeared into her room. But she came out again maybe four minutes later in her pajamas.

  “What would happen now?” she asked him.

  He was just putting up their leftovers from dinner and didn’t understand the question. But he was thrilled she was back out of her room and not hiding away for the rest of the night. “Hmmm?”

  “If this were a regular date. And I were a regular woman, what would happen now?”

  He thought he understood. “Oh. Well, we probably wouldn’t be living together already, if this were regular.”

  She screwed up her lips to one side and played with the hem of the oversized tee she’d changed into.

  “You’re asking me what happens at the end of a regular date?” he tried.

  She was quiet for a minute. He dried off his hands and turned to her, his ass against the countertop as he leaned.

  “I’m asking what you do at the end of a regular date.”

  Heat creeped up his neck. He still wasn’t exactly sure what she was asking him, but he was very nervous he was going to answer wrong. He defaulted to honesty. “At the end of a regular date, if I liked the woman, I would probably try to go home with her. If she wanted to also, then we probably would.”

  Bex nodded and kept her eyes on the hem of her shirt.

  “But I’ve never had a date like we just had, Bex. I’m in uncharted waters over here.”

  Her eyes lifted. So big, so green, her choppy haircut dusted her forehead. “What do you mean?”

  He let out a long breath and watched it tousle her hair. It pleased him to see, that at least in that way, he could touch her. “I mean that I’ve never spent an entire day with someone and not wanted it to end. I’ve never had a date with someone who I also considered my friend. I’ve never liked someone this much.” He knew he should keep it light, but he couldn’t fight it. His voice dropped a register. “I’ve never wanted someone this much.”

  Her lips trembled and he watched her gaze drop to his lips.

  “None of this is regular for me,” he told her. “You could never be regular. I think you’re the most special.”

  Her eyes fell back to the hem of her shirt. “I want to be regular,” she whispered.

  “Bex—”

  “I want to be regular and special.” She laughed at herself and shrugged. “I want too much.”

  “Do you want me?”

  She nodded, her eyes cast down. “But my body won’t let me have you. I know you won’t hurt me, Atlas, you’re the most gentle man I’ve ever met. But too many men…It’s like my body has learned its lesson when it comes to men. Fool me once, you know?”

  “I’m never going to rush you, Bex. I understand. You don’t have to push yourself or beat yourself up. You’re not there, and that’s okay. We’ve got a lifetime to figure this out.”

  She didn’t react to him using the word lifetime, but maybe it was because men had said things like that to her before. She just automatically dismissed it as an exaggeration. Only Atlas knew how sincerely he’d meant it. Only Atlas’s heart suddenly raced itself over the crest of a wave. Only Atlas suddenly saw the huge, sparkling expanse of the ocean rolling out in front of him. Only Atlas saw nothing but time and more time, with Bex by his side.

  He turned from her and gulped air, trying not to let on that he’d just freaked the shit out of himself.

  “Maybe the date could end almost regular,” she said after a minute.

  “How do you mean?” he asked, his voice quavering just a touch.

  “We could sleep in the same bed—”

  “Yes.” He hadn’t meant to cut her off, but he’d liked her suggestion so damn much he hadn’t been able to help himself.

  She laughed at his eagerness and followed him to his room. She didn’t comment when he set up the pillow barrier again. She crawled in to her side and he disappeared into his bathroom, brushing and washing up.

  “Boxers okay?” he asked as he shucked off his shirt and put his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts.

  “It’s your bed.”

  “Bex...”

  “Yes, Atlas, you can sleep in your boxers.” Her cheeks went pink and it pleased him to no end. He was very aware of her eyes when he kicked off his shorts and crawled into bed.

  “Thank you,” she whispered into the dark after he’d clicked off the light.

  He wasn’t sure what she was thanking him for, and frankly, to him, it didn’t even matter.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  He woke up the next morning much as he had the first time they’d slept in the same bed. With her eyes on him. He liked it just as much as he had the first time. The second she opened her mouth though, he found himself a little stymied.

  “Have you slept with a lot of women, then?”

  That certainly got his blood going first thing in the morning. Better than a cup of coffee.

  He’d never played the numbers game with anyone before, but he knew enough to know that there definitely wasn’t a right answer to that question. He certainly didn’t want to know Bex’s number, especially when it sounded like they’d all been assholes.

  “Define a lot.”

  She laughed and rolled her eyes, punching at the pillow beneath her to get more comfortable. “If you need a definition, it means you’re looking for a technicality, which means you’ve slept with a lot of women.”

  He didn’t shrug, but he let himself look at the ceiling as he gathered his thoughts. “I’ve been lonely a lot in my life. Women are people. People are company.”

  She didn’t say anything, but as he rolled over, he sensed that she deeply understood what he was saying.

  “Sometimes,” he went on, “when you’re lonely, it’s a hell of a lot easier to pick someone up than it is to go meet a new friend, you know? Like, people expect you to go to the bar trolling for ass. They don’t expect you to go to the bar trolling for a new bestie.”

  Bex chuckled and nodded. “I get that.” Her brow furrowed and Atlas really wanted to smooth it out with his thumb, but he was too afraid she’d recoil from him.

  “What’s got you frowning?”

  “I guess I just don’t understand,” she said eventually. “You were so lonely, but you had a twin. Didn’t you keep each other company?”

  And here they were so soon. Apparently it was time to talk about family. If she were anyone else, he would evade at all costs. But she was lying there all pink and cute and sweet and he just couldn’t refuse her anything.

  “Sequence and I have always loved each other. And we always understood each other. But there were a lot of secrets too. We were lonely side by side for a long time because we didn’t know how to talk to ea
ch other. Actually, we’re still figuring that out.”

  “You mentioned that things were tough with your dad growing up…”

  “Yeah.” Atlas wasn’t ashamed of his past. He certainly wasn’t ashamed of things that a grown-up had done to him when he was a child. But he was still getting used to discussing this topic with candor. For a long time he’d thought that he would take this topic to the grave with him. There was something about Bex, though, that made him feel like he could try and explain. Maybe he would fail, but he could at least try.

  “He used to beat up on us and our mom. She died of a heart attack when we were kids. And things got even worse after that. Sequence and I, we used to be a lot more alike. But our personalities totally deviated as things got worse and worse with my dad. I got louder and goofier and more obnoxious. I was always partying or flirting or cracking jokes and he was just sort of hiding away, disappearing into the background.”

  Atlas sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “He just told me last year that he was the reason my dad got sent to prison.”

  Bex’s eyebrows rose, but she didn’t seem shocked. It was the expression of someone who knew just how hard life could be. “How?”

  “My dad was in trouble with this motorcycle club back in Iowa and he was hiding out in our uncle’s abandoned trailer way out in the middle of nowhere. Prom night rolled around and I put on a rented suit and went out and partied. Sequence, though, he drove out to the trailer, dragged my dad out by his hair and dropped him on the doorstep of the MC’s clubhouse. Come what may.”

  “They could have killed him,” she said, in total understanding. There wasn’t judgment in her tone. Just understanding.

  “Yeah. Sequence has had to make his peace with that. That when he kicked our dad out of the car, he was potentially leaving him for dead.”

  “But they didn’t kill him.”

  “They gave him a choice. To either pay his debt in blood or in service.”

  Comprehension dawned. “He took the fall for one of the brothers? Got sent to prison?”

  “Life sentence. Confessed to murder one for a crime he didn’t commit.” Atlas leaned back. “You sure understood this story quickly.”