After opening the door, I would politely greet her, thank her for coming, and send her on her way before I said or did anything to ruin the moment. Pasting a stupid-ass grin on my face, I twisted the knob and pulled…
I choked on the words I’d been ready to say, because standing on my doorstep wearing a prim white dress, black heels, and a sunhat was Lilly Hastings. I’d known it was likely her, but nothing prepared me for how gorgeous she looked this morning. My gut tightened, and so did my chest, like someone had sucker punched me.
She looked so pure and clean and good. All the things I wasn’t.
Instead of Thanks for coming, or, Hey, how are you? I found myself saying, “What the hell are you doing here again?”
She gripped her bag tighter, and juggled two cups of coffee with her free hand. She had dark shades on, but I swear I felt her attention waver south, lingering on my abs. “Nice to see you, too, Jackson.”
“Sorry, sorry. Hi. How are you?” I leaned on the door, way too aware of the fact that all I wore was a loose pair of sweats. Sweats that would hide absolutely nothing if I let the primal urges of my body get away from me. “Uh…do you want to come in?”
“Sure.” She brushed past me, leaving a trail of expensive perfume to tease my senses. I was wrong the other night. She didn’t just smell like flowers. There was a hint of vanilla, too. “How are you doing?”
I closed the door behind her, but stayed where I was. I wasn’t sure why she was here, or why she’d brought coffee and a brown bag of whatever she had, but I didn’t want to make any mistakes with her…again. “I’m good. About to head to work…”
“Oh, right. Of course. Me, too.” She took her sunglasses off and smiled. I leaned on the door and crossed my arms, trying to look as if she hadn’t shaken me by showing up at my motel, looking as fresh as a warm spring breeze. “You sure you’re okay?”
I cleared my throat and shifted my feet, hoping like hell she didn’t come any closer. “Yeah. Why not?”
“You look nervous or something.”
“I’m not.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “You shouldn’t have come here, though. Just because you know where I am, because you drove me home while I was drunk, doesn’t mean you should just stop by. This isn’t exactly a nice neighborhood.”
I stared at her ass, because it was there. And perfect. I’d have to be a saint not to admire the way her casual dress hugged her curves—and I was no saint.
“I know. But I was thinking about what you said, and—”
“If this is about what I said when I was drunk, whatever it was, I didn’t mean it.” I jerked my gaze off her ass, because it kind of proved I did. “I didn’t—”
“What? No. It’s fine. You were fine.” She set her glasses down on the coffee table gingerly, as if scared the rickety table might break if she pushed too hard, and unloaded the coffee and food, too. “Everyone says things they regret when they’re drunk.”
I bet she didn’t. Hell, I bet she’d never even been drunk before. The irrational urge to get her drunk off her ass hit me. I bet she was a giggler. “Yeah.”
An awkward silence fell, and she walked around the crappy motel room, touching this and that. I still didn’t move from the door, painfully aware that the entire space was probably the size of her closet back.
I was sure she was, too.
This place was shabby, at best. Questionable at worst. But when I came home, I needed some time and space to think. It was customary to send injured men back to their home base, but I wished they hadn’t sent me back here. I wasn’t ready to face my mother yet. Not until I had a clear plan of what I wanted to do with my life. The only place I could go where people didn’t know me around town was here. No one I knew came to this part of town. Hell, I didn’t even come here. And yet she had.
Twice.
For me.
And, damn it, why was she walking like that? All slowly, hips swinging, hair swaying? It did things to me. Things I was trying very damned hard to ignore.
She caught me staring, and grinned. I dropped my hands to my sides. “I bet you’re wondering why I’m here,” she said, her voice soft and teasing. “And what I might want…”
“Uh…” I blinked at her, tearing myself out of my thoughts and my fascination with her swinging hips. Was it just me, or was her tone flirtatious? Seductive? Irresistible. The years in the desert were obviously messing with my head, and I needed to get laid. ASAP. “Yeah, I am.”
After she’d made a lap around the room, she stopped in front of me. Too close for comfort. Especially since I couldn’t shake the suspicion she was flirting with me. “I came to collect on that offer you made. I believe it was something about screwing me until I never felt clean again?”
Well, shit. Had I said that? It sounded like something I would say. And do.
I swallowed hard, but it was like a giant cotton ball was stuck in my throat. For a second, I thought about grabbing her. Doing exactly that. But then I remembered I was trying to be a better man, and I couldn’t. “I…uh…Lilly…”
She burst into laughter, pressing a hand to her stomach. “Oh, my God, you should see the look on your face right now. I’m just kidding, of course.”
I had a feeling whatever look she’d been laughing at was gone now. “Ha-ha, you’re so funny.”
But the thing was…she was.
I wanted her to have grown up to be some sort of stuffy, spoiled little rich daddy’s girl, someone it’d be easy to ignore, but she wasn’t. She was teasing me. And it was funny. She was still naive as hell, and way more innocent than she tried to pretend, but I liked her. And that was a dangerous thing, considering I also wanted her.
“Thanks. I’ll be here all week.” She grabbed my hand, turned it palm up, and slid a gold key into it. Her soft touch made my pulse race. “But the real reason I’m here is because I’ve been thinking about what you said. About living here.”
I cocked a brow, not sure where she was going with this, but grateful she wasn’t here to talk about something I said when drunk, at the very least. “Why are you giving me a key? And how did you know what room I’m in?”
“The kind man at the desk was all too helpful in telling me which room my ‘husband’ was in, when I asked him and showed off a little cleavage.”
I curled my fingers into a fist, forcing my eyes not to wander down to see said cleavage. I already knew it was amazing. “Oh. Right.”
“Is that…?” She reached out gingerly, her hand trembling as she touched the puckered flesh marking the spot on my shoulder where the bullet from an enemy combatant ended my career. Her fingers sent a rush of something dark and raw skating through my veins.
“A bullet wound?” I glanced down at it. “Yeah. The one that sent me home.”
I was a sniper, and if you couldn’t aim accurately due to damaged muscles…well, you couldn’t be a sniper anymore. And they sent you on your way. It pissed me off that I wasn’t out there anymore, protecting my guys.
“O-oh.” Shaking herself slightly, she stepped back, letting her arm fall to her side again. “Mind if I sit?”
“Please. Do.”
She took her hat off and smoothed her blond hair. She shouldn’t have bothered; it remained as flawless as the rest of her. It still had that soft wave that had captivated my drunken attention the other night. Sober me was no different. I curled my fingers around the mystery key she’d given me. “I brought you coffee and a donut. Chocolate iced. Your favorite. Or at least it was. Is it still?”
She knew my favorite donut?
Hell, I bet my mother didn’t even know that.
I nodded, and she perched on the edge of the nasty couch. It was brown and mustard-yellow, and was probably straight out of the seventies or a porn movie…or a seventies porn movie. The material contrasted sharply against the paleness of her smooth skin. Skin I couldn’t ignore no matter how hard I tried to focus on the ugly porn couch.
It inexplicably made me wonder if she’d ever watched a dirty m
ovie before. I had a feeling there were a lot of firsts she’d never experienced, and I wanted to give them to her. Show her how much she was missing out on. “Why did you give me a key?”
“Because…” She ruffled her hair. “Because I want to offer you a place to stay.”
I blinked at her. “Where?”
“When I was little, my dad owned a townhome for a few months, while our house was being built. We only lived in it for a few months, but I liked it so much I begged him not to sell it. To keep it.”
I ran my thumb over the key, catching on quickly enough. “You still have it?”
“We do. He does. And that’s the key to the front door.” She rubbed her biceps slowly. “I’d like you to stay there. Daddy doesn’t need to know. I won’t tell him.”
I wasn’t gonna lie. Getting out of this shithole sounded good. Wonderful, even. But it almost sounded too good to be true. And in my life, that usually meant it was. “What’s the catch? How much is the rent?”
“You don’t have to pay anything. You’re my friend, and my stepbrother, and I want to do this for you.” She stopped rubbing her arms and gripped them tightly. “But there is kind of a catch, and it might not be something you’re willing to do.”
I tensed. “What is it?”
“Well, you see, it’s not empty.” She bit her deliciously pink bottom lip. “I live there, too. Alone.”
Well, shit. That wasn’t going to work. I was barely able to control my annoying urges when it came to her in small doses. If I lived with her, I’d be screwed. “Lilly—”
“Wait.” She held a hand up. “Before you say anything, I think it would be a great idea. We could get to know each other, since as you pointed out, it’s been seven years. I like you, Jackson. I always have. And now I have a chance to help you out. Please let me. I want to.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” I said, keeping my voice flat, and set the key down in front of her. “What if your dad found out? He’d have a fucking conniption.”
She winced. “He won’t. He’s not exactly the type to stop by because he’s in the neighborhood. When Daddy wants to see me, he summons me. Not the other way around. He’ll never know.”
I scrambled for another reason it wouldn’t work. Anything but the truth.
But I came up empty.
“Just take it. And think about it.” She tossed the key back at me, and I caught it reflexively. “If you decide to go for it, you have the key. And you’re all set.”
I closed my fingers around it, securing it in my fist again. She uncrossed and re-crossed her legs, and I stared. No matter how much I tried to ignore the lust stabbing me in the gut, it wouldn’t leave me alone. “Thanks. But I’ve gotta be honest. I don’t think I should move in with you,” I said bluntly.
“Why not?” She licked her lips and uncrossed her legs, leaning forward on them. It did things to her tits. Things I shouldn’t have noticed—but I did. I’d have to be dead not to. “What’s got you worried?”
“Well, we’re not kids anymore.” Pushing off the door, I crossed the room and stood in front of her, with only the table separating us, and forced my attention to remain northward. “And we don’t really know one another, for starters.”
She shook her head. “That’s not true.”
“Yeah, it is. For all you know, I walk around my house naked all the time.”
“I—” Her lids drifted down. This time I not only felt it, I saw it. She opened her mouth, closed it, and her cheeks flushed a fetching pink. “Do you?”
Her voice deepened with that question. There was no doubt of that.
“Sometimes.” I shoved my hands through my hair, willing my cock to ignore the open invitation in her eyes. I wouldn’t mess this up. Wouldn’t act on my improper impulses. Not with her. “But honestly, it’s not like we’ve kept in touch or anything. We just lived in the same house years ago. The second I left home, I never saw you again.”
“But we did keep in touch.” She stood, lifted her chin, and stared down her little nose at me, even though she was easily a good foot shorter than me. “At least, I did.”
Something in my chest twisted. It was on the tip of my tongue to apologize for never answering her letters, for never letting her know I got them, but I swallowed the words. She didn’t need an apology for this, and I didn’t need to give her one. What was done was done. There was no changing it.
I’d done worse things in my life than not write back to a girl.
To her, even. Like that kiss.
What she really deserved an apology for wasn’t the whole letters thing. It was the fact that she’d poured her heart out to me, admitted she loved me, and I never wrote her back. I had done it to set her free, sure, but still. It had been dickish. Even though I’d never say those words back to her, even though I couldn’t, she should know she wasn’t just a way to get free. She should know…
That I had cared about her. Still did.
But it couldn’t be in a romantic way. We couldn’t be together. She still deserved better. Was still made for bigger things than me. And now she wanted me to live with her? That was a horrible idea. Terrible. But as I tried to talk myself out of it, I heard Doc’s voice in my head, encouraging me to spend time with her. To let her show me when she was ready, and how much she wanted. To let her lead the way.
Well, she had. She’d told me what she wanted.
And now I had to decide whether I was comfortable giving it to her or not. If I was willing to give back to the girl who always gave so much to me. “Us living together is a bad idea. Nothing good can come of it. It won’t work.”
She crossed her arms. “Give me one reason why not.”
I couldn’t tell her that it was because the last thing I saw when I looked at her was a damn sister. Or that I wanted to kiss her again, only for real this time. With no hidden agendas. But she couldn’t know that, because I couldn’t. Wouldn’t. That road wouldn’t lead us anywhere worth going, and I wouldn’t hurt her again. “I already did. We don’t know each other.”
“Not enough.” Scowling, she shook her head. “Try again. I’ll wait.”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes and racked my brain for another good reason. A conversation thread from two nights ago came to mind, and I hoped to hell it wasn’t a figment of my imagination. “What would your fiancé think?”
She cringed. “He’s not my fiancé. No matter what Daddy or Mr. Thornton says, or even Derek. I’m not wearing a ring. But he already knows. I—”
“Wait. You told him before you even asked me?”
She flushed. “Yes, but don’t worry. I stressed to him that you just came home from war, and weren’t ready to be back in polite company again. He swore to keep our secret.” She hesitated. “He’s good at keeping those. Trust me.”
“He might say he’s okay with me living with you now.” I snorted. “But trust me, he doesn’t mean it.”
“That’s for me to worry about, not you.” She came around the table and stopped directly in front of me. If she stepped any closer, she’d learn the real reason that we couldn’t live together, up close and personal. “You’re right about one thing. We never got to live together. This is the perfect chance for us to get to know one another. For us to be like…family.”
Family, my ass. She wasn’t, and never would be, my family. I curled my thumb under my fingers. “I doubt we’d get along now. Or we’d get along too well.”
“Oh. Oh.” Her cheeks flushed. “You’re worried I won’t be able to control myself around you. That’s the problem here, right?”
I wasn’t sure what to say to that, since it was the opposite.
So I said nothing. Just stared at the peeling, faded blue-and-white wallpaper.
“Is this about that stupid kiss?” She let out a little laugh and lifted her arms before letting them fall to her sides. “Because the way I remember it, you started it. You asked me if I wanted to kiss you, and I did.”
I crossed my arms and forced a co
cky grin. Anything to hide the fact that right now, in this crappy motel room, I still wanted to kiss her very, very much. That I always had, and that was the real problem. “Ah, but you’re the one who actually did it. Who kissed me. So technically…”
“Something tells me I’ll be able to control myself around you now. Contrary to what you seem to think, I’m not dying with desire for you.” She watched me, calling for honesty. Honesty I wasn’t ready or willing to give. “Or are you more worried about yourself?”
Hell, yeah, I was. But I couldn’t tell her that. “Oh, I’m not worried about myself at all.”
She let out a small laugh. “Wow. Okay, then. Thanks for being brutally honest and letting a girl down easy.”
I didn’t say anything at first. If she thought I had no desire to touch her, then it would only help me in the long run. “A guy’s gotta be honest, right?”
She stared at me, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Despite my desire to scare her off, a stronger desire caused me to glance down, and nothing short of a force of nature would stop me from admiring the generous cleavage she’d put on display.
As if she sensed my thoughts, she stepped back, crossing her arms. “You know, I thought you changed. Yesterday, when you…I thought you changed.”
“Sorry to disappoint you.”
“Oh, really?” She pushed my shoulders. I stumbled backward, because she’d caught me off guard…as had the feel of her fingers on my bare skin. Jesus Christ, she was pure fire and electricity. “Oops. My arm slipped. I totally didn’t mean to push you. I’m so very sorry.”
I raised a brow. “Sure you are. I can totally see the sadness in your eyes.”
“You’re mistaking my anger for sadness. I don’t do sad. Blue doesn’t look good on me. Never has.”
A surprised laugh choked me, because this tiny woman did what no one else dared to do. She provoked me. Pushed me. Showed no fear. It made me want to shake her or kiss her. I wasn’t sure which urge was stronger. “Funny. Here I thought you always were pretty in blue…little girl.”
She growled deep in her throat and lifted her hands as if she would strike again. I wished she would. It would give me an excuse to show her what happened when you pushed a guy like me too hard. To show her what happened when you flirted with a guy like me with no plan or the freedom to follow through. And, damn it, I needed an excuse to do that. But instead of hitting me, she dropped her hands and took a deep breath.
Bad Romance Page 6