Dylan wasn’t very friendly, and I’d never seen him be generous to anyone but himself. How had I been in denial about him for so long? No one smiled when he walked into a room or when he passed them in the street. No one was excited to see him. And it wasn’t hard to figure out why. He either acted as though he was superior to people, or he outright ignored them. I’d even had customers complain about him to me, not knowing that he was my husband. And, of course, I’d made lame excuses for him.
My mind kept going in circles comparing Dylan to Roman, but there wasn’t much time to dwell on the comparisons or formulate any conclusions. We stumbled into people that could use our help, and every time, Roman would shoot me a look as if to ask if I minded before he rushed to their aid. He was considerate and thoughtful, two things that I found so refreshing.
We worked until my body ached, and I wasn’t sure I could propel myself up the stairs to my house, much less clear away another pile of rubble. Roman didn’t seem to have the same problem. He was so strong that he made everything look easy. Next to him, I actually felt small and feminine for the first time in my life. I found myself thinking about what it would be like to slip on one of his T-shirts. It would be large on me, maybe even fit like a dress. I loved that thought.
As tired as I was, my libido still reacted when I looked at him, remembering the way his body felt against mine. But I was exhausted. My bones ached, and the lack of proper sleep, not just last night, but for the past week, was catching up to me.
I watched Roman, still hauling trash and piling it out of people’s way. The man had probably cleared a quarter of the island himself. As if he sensed my gaze on him, he looked back at me. His gaze instantly turned heated. Self-consciously, I ran my hands over my hair and then crossed my arms over my chest. I was sweaty, dirty, and I knew my hair was a wreck.
“You are so beautiful.” Roman straightened and walked over to me. Mr. Barnes was watching. His wife, Luanne was watching, too.
I forced a smile. “Yeah.”
He caught my face in his hands and tipped my head up so I had to look him in the eyes. “I should’ve taken you straight back to your house this morning. I’m sorry.”
Luanne smacked Mr. Barnes on the arm, and they both looked away from us. I knew my cheeks were red and I was so tired that tears filled my eyes. It was embarrassing.
Roman wrapped his arms around me and held me. “Tired?”
I nodded into his chest and sighed. “Sorry. It was a long night, I guess.”
“I’ll swing back by tomorrow morning to help, John.” Roman scooped me into his arms and smiled down at me. “I have to get my girl home.”
“Put me down, Roman. I’m too heavy.” I squirmed. I wasn’t about to let him carry me home. Besides the fact that I really was too heavy, people would see us.
“Do I look like I’m struggling?”
I stopped and looked up at him. He didn’t. Not even an inkling of strain anywhere on his face. “What are you, Superman?”
He shot me a panty-melting grin and shrugged. “I’ll tell you someday.”
“This is insane. You’re going to break your back.”
“By carrying you? Hardly.” He bounced me and laughed when I gasped and locked my arms around his neck. “I’m carrying you. Deal with it.”
I stopped fighting since we were so close to my house. I figured he’d put me down when he needed to, and I might as well just enjoy it. His neck was damp under my hands and he was drenched in sweat, but instead of finding the smell of him a turn off, it had the exact opposite effect. He smelled warm and cedary and citrusy and I wanted to rub against him and trap that smell in my brain forever.
I remained in his arms as he carried me to my house, up the stairs, inside, and all the way to the guestroom. He dropped me on the bed and reached over his shoulder to grab his shirt and pull it over his head. In low-slung shorts and a whole lot of glistening abs, he looked down at me and licked his lips. “I’m hungry, Megan.”
I stuttered. His smoldering facial expression had sent my brain out to the stratosphere, so his words caught me off guard. “I… I could fix something. There’s probably something in the—”
He ran his hand up my calf and didn’t stop until his fingers were playing with the hem of my leggings. “Not for that.”
I stupidly giggled when I realized what he meant. My heart sped up and my body hummed. When he tugged at my yoga pants, I lifted my hips and let him pull them off of me. The mean little voice at the back of my head screamed that it wasn’t a good idea to let him see me in that light. My thighs jiggled too much, my stomach was too soft, my hips too wide, my breasts too small. Not to mention I’d been sweating and I could use a shower.
Roman tossed my yoga pants across the room, pressed his lips to my ankle, and as though he’d read my mind, said, “You smell delicious. Absolutely delicious.”
I rolled my eyes, despite my heart racing in my chest. “Sure.”
He licked up to my calf. “Like sunshine and cool spring water. I want to devour you.”
My mouth went dry. I shivered.
“Roman…” My voice was unrecognizable, breathy and full of desire. It was full-on sex kitten, come-hithering my man to me.
One knee on the bed, Roman moved closer to me.
“Megan? Are you here?”
Roman’s head snapped up, the look in his eyes ferocious.
I jerked out of the bed, in a full-on panic, and grabbed for my yoga pants. “Oh, shit. Oh, no.”
“Megan?!” My husband’s voice called up the stairs, his footsteps following.
Roman pushed the door closed and looked back at me. “I wasn’t finished.”
I wanted to laugh at the poutiness to his voice, but my husband had just about walked in on us doing…that. I fell into the wall trying to jump into my pants and grunted. Turning my back to Roman so I didn’t have to know that he’d seen that, I finished tugging them on and ran my fingers through my hair.
“Megan? Is that you?”
I turned, but Roman was already opening the door. I couldn’t see around Roman, but judging by the startled yelp, Dylan had just come face to face with him. Fuck.
19
Megan
“Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my house?” Dylan demanded to Roman, like he wasn’t an entire head and a half shorter than the man.
I stuck my head under Roman’s arm and held out my hands, not wanting the weirdness to escalate to something worse. “What are you doing back in my house, Dylan?”
Dylan acted as though he’d been slapped. His head jerked back when he saw me, and his face pinched as though he’d been sucking on a lemon. “You… What were you doing in there, Megan?”
“Something private that you interrupted.” Roman’s voice was a pure growl, the heat that always radiated off him growing stronger.
“Excuse me?” Dylan gathered himself quickly. “That’s my wife you’re talking about.”
I squeezed out of the door, planting myself in front of a very angry Roman. “Maybe we should take this downstairs?”
“Fine.” Dylan stomped down the stairs, shooting dark glances back at us periodically.
I looked back at Roman and winced. He was not happy. “I don’t know what he’s doing back here.”
He looked over my face, like he was searching for something, and sighed. “I know.”
“This is so awkward. I didn’t think I’d have to face off with him in front of you.” I looked up at the ceiling and groaned.
“You would prefer me to leave?”
The hurt in his voice surprised me, almost as much as the alarm I felt at the thought of him leaving. “No! No. I’m not saying that.”
He rolled his shoulders and blew out a breath. “Good.”
“Okay.” I nodded and turned to the stairs. “I guess we just go down there and see what he wants?”
With a hand on the center of my back, Roman led me down the stairs and into the kitchen. Dylan was looking through the
liquor cabinets, slamming doors when he couldn’t find anything.
“Yeah, empty. But you should know. You cleaned it out completely.” I crossed my arms over my chest and prayed for strength.
Dylan scowled and pointed at Roman. “What is he still doing here?”
Roman growled, something I realized he was prone to doing, and actually curled his lip and bared his teeth at Dylan. It should’ve been weird, but it actually looked rather natural on him. It was, however, scary as hell. Probably more so when it was directed your way.
“Dylan, what are you doing here?”
“I live here, Megan.”
I scoffed. “No, actually you don’t. You literally don’t. All of your stuff—and some of mine, I might add—has been removed.”
He glared at Roman but didn’t say anything else to him. “That wasn’t me. It was Brandi. She told me I should take everything and I fell for it, Megan. I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”
I scrunched up my face in confusion, suddenly feeling as though I’d been teleported to an alternate reality. “What are you talking about?”
“She took everything. Apparently, it was her way of paying me back for not telling her about you.” He looked away. “I don’t know what came over me. I just had a hankering for something different, or so I thought. She wasn’t it, though. I want you back, Megan. You’re my wife. We’ve been together for twelve years. We shouldn’t let anyone else get between us.”
My brain reeled. “She took everything?”
“The money, the stuff, all of it. I woke up this morning to a rude note. She split—took it all. I came back here immediately when I realized the mistake I’d made. I knew right away I’d messed up.”
“You knew ‘right away’—after you woke up and she’d cleaned you out and dumped you?”
“Well, I knew yesterday.”
I shook my head and sat down on one of the barstools. “Dylan, you stole from the business, left me to board up this home and the shop myself, took things from this house that didn’t belong to you, and that’s not even the worst! You’ve also been cheating on me for who knows how long, and when you left me to pick up your slack, I was nearly killed.”
“Yeah, you stupid sonofabitch. I found her half-drowned in the ocean.” Roman shook, his big hands balled up on the counter next to me. “The only reason I haven’t snapped your scrawny ass in half yet is out of respect for Megan.”
“Who the hell are you?!” Dylan tempted fate. “And why are you still here?”
“Stop. Dylan, you need to leave. You don’t live here anymore. That was your choice, and I am not taking you back.”
“Oh, I should have known. Just like your parents, huh? Give up on marriage at the first sign of trouble, is that it, Megan? You won’t even honor our marriage by giving me another chance?”
I froze. Dylan was playing his trump card, and it felt like a gut punch. As if that wasn’t enough, the icing on the cake was when he pulled out his wallet and slid across a picture of the two of us on our first date.
“I still carry this. I still love you. I don’t care if you slept with him. I don’t care. We can get past all of this. We can rebuild the shop. I’ll do my part. I’ll do more than my part. You deserve more.”
I closed my eyes and shook my head harder.
“Megan, please. We can make it work. I know you don’t want to follow in your mom’s shoes. You give up on me, how long until you give up on the next guy? And the next? How many more men will you go through, just like her? It’s easy to walk away, but anything worth having is worth fighting for.”
I opened my eyes and the first thing I saw was Roman’s hands. Still balled up, still tight, the veins strained. He was clearly holding himself back. He wanted to punch Dylan, I knew. Yet, he didn’t. He was just waiting—giving me the chance to be in control.
My heart pounded. Dylan was right about one thing. I was willing to throw everything I’d worked at for the past twelve years away for a chance with Roman. Looking at him, touching him, was such an uplifting experience, it was like magic. Yes, I felt like there was magic happening when I was next to him. He was everything I admired. He behaved honorably to others, and to me as well. He said kind words to me, and his actions backed those words up. I’d never been treated so well by anyone before.
Could it be real, though? How long could it last? How was it possible that a man like Roman wanted to enter into a long-term relationship with me? It wasn’t that I lacked self-esteem entirely, but I wasn’t blind, either. He was stunning. I was…average.
He suddenly swore from beside me. Looking down at his watch, he swore again and then shot a deadly glare at Dylan. “I have to leave. I will be back.”
“Don’t bother.”
Roman eased me off the stool and, with an arm around my waist, pulled me to the door with him. “Something’s going down at the office. It’s urgent or I wouldn’t dream of leaving right now. Don’t make any decisions while I’m gone. Please. I can see the wheels in your head turning and I know he’s getting to you, but what he’s saying is complete bullshit. He’s trying to play you. You don’t belong with him, Megan. You deserve so much better.”
I felt like crying. I stared at my feet until Roman slid a finger under my chin and raised my head.
“Look at me. This I will promise you right now. If you chose me, there will not be another man after me. I’m not a twelve-year kind of guy. I’m a forever kind of guy. Just, please, wait for me to return.”
I wanted to hold onto him, but he pressed a kiss to my forehead and was gone that fast, leaving me there with Dylan, who had no qualms about hitting below the belt to get me back.
There I was, the same large-stature woman with small breasts and big hips, who’d walked in on her husband as he went to town screwing his slender, beautiful mistress in our bed. A week later, I was still the same woman with a flabby belly and cellulite thighs, but now there were two men fighting over me. Life made zero sense.
20
Roman
I ripped the roof off the house without a strain. Throwing a slew of trashed shingles behind me, I growled and tugged at a beam that blocked my way in.
Roman! Calm yourself before you bring the entire house down on them!
I let out a wild roar in Serge’s direction, unable to heed his command at that moment. I knew, deep down, that he was right. The family trapped in their bathroom could easily be crushed to death if I didn’t handle the extraction delicately, but I was riled to the core.
Konstantin moved in next to me and grabbed a beam that was starting to slip. “Go!”
I lowered myself into the house and cleared a path headed in the direction of their screams. Dmitry and Alexei were right behind me, both offering support when the house shook. Serge grabbed me and yanked me backward just as I was about to pull the bathroom door open.
“Stop!” He jerked his chin up and gestured to the beam over the door. It was balancing precariously and would have undoubtedly cracked my skull if I’d followed through and opened the door.
The realization should have sobered me. It should have forced me to stop and pay closer attention to what I was doing. It didn’t. I couldn’t focus on anything other than the fact that I’d left my mate alone with a man who didn’t deserve her but had a claim to her anyway. A man who was talking out his ass a mile a minute. It had been so obvious to me that he was saying whatever he thought would get the reaction he wanted from her, with no regard for the truth.
“You go and help Konstantin support the structure until we can get them out!”
I growled but did as I was told. My bear ripped at me, demanding to be let out. I knew exactly what he’d do—run back to Megan’s house and tear her weasel of a husband to shreds. Unable to maintain control, I felt claws begin to extend from my fingertips.
“What the fuck happened, brother?”
I shook. I didn’t know how much longer I could hold myself together.
Seconds later, the team emerged with the fami
ly—all injury-free. Good. We could get the hell out of there. The house didn’t stand on its own for much longer, and as it collapsed in front of us, the family cried. The parents hugged their two children close and thanked us profusely for rescuing them and getting them all out safely.
My mind was elsewhere. I kept seeing Megan with that slimy little asshole. Would she buy into his manipulative bullshit? I knew he was only looking for someone to sponge off of and Megan had a heart of gold. He had nowhere to sleep and no money, but it was what he deserved. A taste of his own medicine. He’d had done to him exactly what he’d done to Megan. Karma. It pissed me off how he thought he could just waltz right back in and pick up where he left off.
I would dedicate myself to caring for Megan and respecting her needs and feelings. He never would. She didn’t necessarily know that, though.
“You and me need to have a talk, Roman.” Serge glared at me and pointed to the team’s van. “Now.”
The rest of the guys climbed into the back, as though that would give Serge and I any privacy. Not from shifter hearing, it wouldn’t. I sat fuming, terrified that I might be losing my mate. I needed to get back there as soon as possible and fight for her.
“What the fuck is going on with you?”
“You know damn good and well what.”
Serge nodded. He knew because he’d acted the same way when he met his mate. We’d been on a mission and he’d nearly blown the whole thing to hell after meeting Hannah. “I have a feeling. Mate?”
“Yeah.”
The guys in the back cheered, but Serge growled. “What’s the problem, then? And there is a problem, isn’t there, Roman?”
I growled. “There is. She has…a husband. He left her, and she almost died because of his lack of concern.” I released a slow breath. “He just came back. Says he’s sorry. Says he loves her.”
“Well, that explains why you almost got an entire family crushed to death.”
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