Adam lifted his beer and downed what was left. “I have to go…” he stood suddenly. “I just remembered something I have to do.” He threw a few bills on the table, gave him a chin lift, and stalked out.
Joe grumbled under his breath. Now he’d have to drink on alone, which meant being left to his own thoughts. An image of Darcey in that dress, those shoes, walking toward Mr. Ferrari, slammed into his head and he growled. He’d nearly climbed out of his car when he’d seen that asshole put his hands on her, close to going over there and doing something that could have ended very badly. He hadn’t lied. He would beat the shit out of any man who touched her again. Between Patrick and that slimy, old fuck putting his hand on her ass, he’d reached boiling point.
No shit, asshole.
Yeah, he’d more than proved that when he’d pulled over and fucked her in the guy’s car. He’d been barely holding it together as it was, then she’d thrown out that goddamn threat, and he’d lost it completely.
But when he was with her, he felt like someone else filled his skin. Cops could have been chasing him down, and all he could think about was erasing the image of that motherfucker’s hands on her.
He slumped back in his seat. No. He was lying to himself. When he was with Darcey, he felt more like himself than he had in his life. He didn’t want to have to play the clown for her. He wanted that beautiful smile on him, just because. He wanted…
Christ. He rubbed his hand over his shaved head. He sounded like a ninth grader. The woman had him twisted in knots, barely sleeping. Since that very first night, all those months ago, when she’d led him behind the club, kissed the fuck out of him, then run away, she’d been in his head.
Only she hadn’t stopped running, and not just from him. Whatever Al held over her had to be something big, and he hated that she was dealing with it alone. Whenever they were together, it seemed like they were either fighting or fucking. He needed a chance to show her she could trust him, get her to unburden some of that on him, let him take some of that weight from her.
He finished off his beer and stood.
He’d give her tonight. Tomorrow though, all bets were off.
~ * ~
Joe sat back in his seat, eyes on the door. Abella’s was a family owned restaurant, one of his favorites. They did awesome steak, and the place held a whole heap of good memories.
He spotted Darcey as soon as she walked in, standing at the door, a frown lowering her brows as she took the place in. He hadn’t told her what they were doing, just to meet him, and going by the dark jeans, black Converse, and leather jacket, she’d anticipated a night of boosting cars. He should’ve stood up and waved her over, but instead, he watched her dark eyes scan the room, waiting for them to land on him.
Jesus, why was his pulse racing?
Then her gaze slid to the back of the room and finally he had them. He swallowed, hard, gut tightening, body instantly reacting. Darcey tried to hide it, but he saw the way her lips parted slightly like the air had been forced from her lungs. The way her lashes fluttered then lowered. Her lips quirked up on one side, then she turned away, trying to hide that, as well. But he saw, he saw it all. And fuck, knowing that she was just as affected by him as he was by her? Yeah, he needed that more than he realized. Especially after the last time they were together. The way he’d acted, losing it like he had—he wasn’t sure what to expect.
She headed toward him, dark lashes still lowered as she moved though the tables on her way to him. Her hair was down, and the long, shiny strands made his fingers itch to wrap it around his fist, to hold her while he kissed her, while he swallowed her cries.
He was gone over her. There was no point denying or fighting it.
How it was possible when she’d given him nothing and had held nearly every part of herself back from him, he had no clue. But there it was. An undeniable truth.
She reached the table, eyes locking on him, brow raised in question. “Hey.”
“Hey.” Shit, was that his voice?
Her head tilted to the side, amusement lighting her eyes. “Um…what’s going on? Your message sounded urgent.”
“It was.”
“Okay, so why the restaurant?”
“Because I was super hungry.”
“That was the emergency?”
“Yep. I needed a steak and this place has the best.”
The amusement vanished and she scowled. She was getting pissed off, and it was wrong how much he enjoyed it. “You’re shitting me, right?”
“I would never shit you, Darce, ever.” Despite the current conversation, he put meaning behind those words. He wanted her to know it, believe it more than anything. “Sit down and we’ll order.”
Her eyes widened. “I’m not hungry.”
“Yeah, you are.”
Her brows snapped up. “Now you’re gonna tell me when I’m hungry?”
The waiter chose that moment to walk out of the kitchen carrying a plate of creamy fettuccine. The scent of garlic, bacon, and parmesan hit them a second later. Darcey glanced at it, delicate nostrils flaring as she took a whiff. Her stomach rumbled. Loudly.
Joe chuckled. “You want some of that, you need to park it, peaches.”
The woman grumbled, but she did sit down, even if it was in the seat farthest away from him. Stubborn. He had no clue if tonight would help or hinder his cause, but he had to try. He wanted this woman—all of her—and he didn’t know how the hell else to get that across to her without freaking her out.
“So are we scouting after this?” She grabbed a breadstick from the center of the table and bit off a chunk. The flash of her little white teeth snapping down like that kinda turned him on, but then every-damn-thing turned him on where Darcey was concerned. Tonight wasn’t about that, though. He had to show her sex wasn’t all he wanted from her. “Nope.”
She leaned back in her seat. “You have a car lined up then?”
He shook his head, holding her gaze and watching as the real reason she was there, sitting across from him, started to dawn on her.
She shifted in her seat and glanced around, almost self-consciously. Her spine stiffened like she might jump up and bail at any minute before her eyes came back to him. “What’s going on, Joe?”
He shrugged, hoping like hell she didn’t see the way his heart was pounding like crazy. If she got up and walked away, he wasn’t sure what his next move would be. “Gotta eat, right?”
Her gaze slid to his mouth then lower to his throat, and he had to force himself not to swallow nervously. He didn’t get nervous, and never around women. But Darcey had that effect on him, made him feel like a kid with his first girlfriend. She bit her lip, a million things going on behind her eyes…then finally, her tight shoulders lowered.
She’d decided not to run.
“I guess. That pasta looked pretty good.”
He felt like he’d won the damned lottery.
Rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans, he sat back. “It is.” Then, unable to sit still, he leaned forward again, resting his forearms in the table. “It’s my sister’s favorite. She gets it every time we come here.”
Darcey looked uncomfortable as hell, but for some reason, she was throwing him a bone, whether it was from guilt after what happened when they’d taken the Ferrari or something else, he had no clue, but he sure as hell planned to take advantage of it.
“What does she do?” She fidgeted in her seat some more.
“Lucy’s in college. Majoring in psychology.” He grinned. “So, no doubt, she’ll finish up, move in with me, and get a job at Hooters just to piss me off.”
Darcey chuckled. “Does she like pissing you off?”
“Oh, she has it down to a fine art. She’s had me and Hugh running around in circles ever since she learned to walk. You two would get on like a house on fire.”
She smiled. It was different than the other smiles she’d given him. This one wasn’t unsure, guarded, or mocking. It was pure amusement, joy, and it made his heart actu
ally stutter in his chest. “The fact that makes you so happy scares the shit out of me. Remind me to duck for cover when you two meet. It might kick off the apocalypse or something.”
The smile slipped and she looked away.
Fuck.
Implying they’d meet meant he planned on being in her life in the future, which he did, but he got the feeling she wasn’t ready to hear that—not yet, anyway. “You want a drink?” He waived one of the waiters over.
“Beer would be good.”
They ordered their meals at the same time. Darcey went for the pasta.
He spotted a big happy birthday sign on the far side of the room and smiled.
Darcey twisted in her seat to take a look. “What’s going on?”
“Someone’s having a birthday here tonight.”
Their drinks arrived and he watched her take a sip. What he wouldn’t give to be that bottle in her hand. Idiot.
“We use to come here with our mom for birthdays and special occasions when we were kids. Me and Hugh always got the steak, and Lucy would get the rainbow drink and a big bowl of fettuccine. We’d always say she’d never be able to finish it, but she always did. She was a stubborn little thing, even then.” He took a sip of his own drink. “After mom moved to Florida, just the three of us would come here. We haven’t done that for a while.” He shrugged and glanced at her, those stupid fucking nerves coiling tighter. “The place always makes me feel good. I don’t know… I thought you might like it.”
Pink tinged her cheeks. “Yeah, it’s really nice…kinda homey.”
Her voice had softened. He liked that his words had affected her in some way. Liked every damn glimpse he got of the woman she kept hidden.
She dipped her head, playing with the label on her beer, and her hair slid forward. Her lids lowered again, her lips dark and pouty from biting them.
So damn beautiful.
“Wait till you try the food.”
She glanced up at him. “So, you never mention your dad much.”
He kept his expression neutral, but just the mention of that fucker made him want to snarl. “The old man bailed on us when we were young. Came back and left again more times than I can remember. The last time he took off, we were left with Al to deal with. The rest, as they say, is history.”
Her eyes widened. “I just assumed…” she shook her head, “I assumed something must have happened to your dad, that a guy that raised boys like you and your brother couldn’t have been all bad, yanno? He just left?”
His throat was suddenly too fucking tight. “Yeah.”
Their food arrived, interrupting the conversation, and they started eating. The expression on Darcey’s face when she took her first bite of pasta managed to put a grin firmly back on his face.
“Good?”
She stared across the table at him. “Holy Hell. How do they make this?”
“Family recipe, apparently. I’ve begged for it, but Toni, the chef, said I’d have to pry it out of his cold, dead fist.”
She laughed. “I can see why.”
They ate in silence for a while after that. He’d never enjoyed watching another person eat so much in his life. The cute way she searched out the tiny pieces of bacon, the greedy, little moan she made when she slid the fork in her mouth. Shit, it made his dick hard, made him want to pull her into his lip and kiss the shit out of her.
He cleared his throat. “So, what about you? Your dad?”
She was quiet for so long he didn’t think she’d answer. Then she let out a shaky breath, and to his surprise and relief, she started talking. “After my dad died, mom moved on quickly. She met Len, and they married a few months later. Me and Noah were dragged along for the ride.”
“Noah?”
More color hit her face, then drained away. “Um…”
“Who’s Noah?”
Her lip started trembling, and he jerked back in his seat. Was she going to cry? What the fuck was going on? “Darcey…”
She bit her lip again. “He’s…he’s my little brother.”
Her eyes widened, like she couldn’t believe she’d said it out loud.
Oh fuck. “Where is he now?”
That lip fucking quivered again, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “He lives with Len.”
Christ.
Seeing her like that killed him. Darcey was tough—a fighter. She didn’t take shit. He knew that much. For her to lose it like this…there was something seriously wrong. He wanted to grab her and pull her close, but her body was held ridged. She was hanging on by a thread.
“He’s eight years old.” She shook her head. “My baby brother is at the mercy of that son of a bitch, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”
He dragged a hand over his head, feeling helpless. “Len lets you see him?”
She glanced away and nodded. “Once I’ve sufficiently groveled.”
Anger—no, fucking rage—welled inside him. “That’s what Al has over you? Why you got in our way all those months ago? So they’d let you see you brother?”
Those thick lashes lifted, her dark eyes meeting his. “Yes.” She blinked, and a tear streaked down her check.
“Baby… Shit.” His fists were curled so tightly in his lap his knuckles cracked.
A look of horror stole her features when she reached up and her hand came back wet. She dashed the tears away quickly.
“I’m fine.” She cursed under her breath. “I can’t believe… I don’t usually…”
Joe couldn’t just sit there and do nothing. Not when she was hurting. Fuck that. He stood, walked around the table, pulled her out of her seat, and dragged her in close. She burrowed deeper, and he wrapped his arms around her.
She needed him, needed to know someone was there for her.
Well, he was right here.
And he wasn’t going anywhere.
Chapter Fourteen
One of Joe’s large hands cupped the back of Darcey’s head, holding her face against his hard chest, the other rubbing her back while she tried and failed to pull it together.
She told Joe about Noah. The earth hadn’t suddenly stopped rotating. The stars hadn’t fallen from the sky. Trust didn’t come easily for her, not anymore. Hadn’t for a long time. She was so used to protecting herself, but Joe had broken through her defenses. She’d just given him a piece of herself, and somehow she knew he understood what a big deal that was for her.
How long had it been since someone comforted her like this? Touched her without wanting something in return?
As much as she craved it—God, needed it like her next breath in that moment—this was a bad idea. She could feel herself weakening every minute he held on to her. Her fight for Noah was far from over, and if she allowed herself to rely on Joe, even for comfort, she was setting herself up to fail. Noah needed her to be strong, not fall apart when things started to get rocky. Though rocky felt like an understatement right then. Shit, she could still feel Len’s slimy hands on her…see that look on his face.
She wiped her eyes on Joe’s shirt, that was now covered in wet patches, and tried to pull back. But Joe wasn’t having any of it. He snaked an arm around her waist and tugged her back in close, holding her to him.
He pressed his lips to her ear. “Let’s get out of here?”
His voice was low, rough, setting off tingles across her scalp.
Right then, all the fight in her body had left the building—completely abandoned her—and she could only nod, putting one foot in front of the other as he led her from the restaurant.
They got to his car and he curled her into his body as he unlocked the door, giving her a squeeze that turned into another hug. He didn’t let her go for several minutes, nose and lips pressed to the top of her head, like he couldn’t bring himself to release her. His breathing was ragged, choppy, like he was trying to keep it together, as well, which shouldn’t have made any sense, but completely did. Joe had a good heart, wanted to fix everyone’s problems like he’d done for his b
rother.
She knew him well enough now to know he’d want to fix this for her, too. But he couldn’t. No one could.
It had to be her.
This time, when she pulled away, he let her.
He opened her door and waited until she was in the passenger seat, then shut her in. He stood there outside her door for several seconds, like he was afraid if he moved away, she’d bolt before he could get behind the wheel. He was right. Her thigh muscles tensed and twitched with the urge to run as fast and as far as she could—away from the temptation, the looming disaster being with Joe posed.
But as soon as he was sitting beside her, she knew she wasn’t going anywhere. She’d go wherever he wanted to take her—do anything to be wrapped in his arms one more time. She needed to feel his warmth, his comfort, and smell his scent. She was addicted to it. That scent was branded into her senses. Just having him close, getting a whiff, had the knots in her belly easing and her wanting to get closer, rub herself all over him until he was all she could smell.
No one affected her like Joe did. And when she walked into that restaurant straight after her awful confrontation with Len, just being in the same room as Joe had helped. He’d somehow cut through her fear, the feeling of helplessness. Telling her about his family, sharing some of his own pain—offering her a heaped helping of that unwavering Joe Colton kindness. It had all been too much and she’d lost it. And it’d felt…good. So good to finally unload some of the crap she’d being living with, to lay it on his broad shoulders. Even if there was nothing he could do.
She glanced over at him and he looked back, his gaze intense. He didn’t talk, just started the car and pulled out onto the street. Then he reached out and took her hand, not letting go for the whole drive. Those long fingers stayed wrapped around hers, his thumb swiping back and forth over her skin.
It was perfect. He was perfect. And it was killing her.
Spin (Boosted Hearts Book 2) Page 14