Wrong Turn, Right Direction

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Wrong Turn, Right Direction Page 22

by Elle Casey


  “I wasn’t judging. I wasn’t, I promise.” He strokes my hair. “And it’s not just you, okay? I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. I’ve already said that ten times, but I’ll keep saying it until you believe me, okay?”

  “You should leave. You should go far and fast away from me. Just get away.”

  “No. I wouldn’t do that. You’re too important to me.”

  I pull back out of his embrace. “Why? You don’t even really know me, and what you do know is a total nightmare.”

  “Of course I do.” He reaches up and slides my hair out of my face. “I know where you grew up, I know who raised you . . . I know you’re good with money and could teach me a few things about payroll, a task I hate doing with all my heart . . . I know you make horrible spaghetti, and I know you stink at poker. Oh . . . and I know you’re a great mom. I know you love your baby and you’re going to do everything in your power to keep him safe. What else do I need to know?”

  I can’t respond. The tears won’t stop long enough for me to speak. The person he’s describing doesn’t sound all bad.

  “And I know that you want to believe me. I know that you don’t want to do this on your own.”

  “How do you know that?” My voice comes out like a frog’s croak.

  “Because you’re biting your lip again.”

  “What?”

  He reaches up and strokes my mouth with his thumb. “Every time you bluffed when we were playing poker, you bit your lip. And you’re doing it now, too, so I know you’re lying when you say you want me to go far and fast away from you.”

  I immediately leave my lip alone. Then I laugh once. I think he let me win at poker. “You are such a bastard.”

  He shrugs. “I can live with that.”

  I sigh, letting a lot of the tension in my body leave with the hot air from my lungs. “I don’t want you to think that I don’t hear everything you’re saying or that I don’t appreciate what it means. I do. But if I give you the code and you share it with your team, I’m going to have to live with the fact that I could be signing their death warrants. Pavel will come after anyone he thinks has unauthorized access to his business.”

  “No . . . Once you share it, you’re going to have to live with the fact that you just became a part of my team . . . my family. We’re all going to take care of you. It’s not going to be just me anymore.”

  I try to smile, but my lips tremble too much so I stop. “I really want to believe you. I really want to believe that’s possible.” I pause to take another breath and calm myself. “But the only way it’s going to happen is if you can trust me enough to keep going without the code.”

  We stare into each other’s eyes for the longest time. Tee goes completely silent. Then Thibault sighs long and loud and pulls me into his arms, careful not to squish the baby. “I’m not going to let you down. Nobody on my team is going to let you down. You can absolutely count on the Bourbon Street Boys to have your back, code or not.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  After I’ve cried all the tears I can squeeze out, the three of us limp and struggle into the bedroom. The timer goes off on the stove as I lower myself to the bed.

  “I’ll be right back,” Thibault says. “Don’t go anywhere.”

  My laugh is really weak. “I don’t know where I’d go.”

  He leans down and gives me a quick kiss on the lips before heading out of the room, hopping on one leg. “To be continued,” he says over his shoulder. My heart flutters at this newfound intimacy between us.

  I slowly sit up and get the baby situated so he can eat. He hasn’t asked for his next meal yet, but if I’m going to relax in this bedroom and have any chance at further conversation or whatever with Thibault, Baby Tee needs to have a full belly and be sleeping.

  I’m not going to try to imagine what that whatever might be. I just had a baby, so my body isn’t ready for much, and messing around with Thibault is only going to complicate an already impossible situation. And yet, I don’t bother covering Tee or me with the blanket, enjoying the freedom of just doing what needs to be done without worrying who will see something they don’t want to see. This is me, Thibault, like it or not. Natural and in the flesh.

  Thibault gets back when I’m sitting up at the headboard. As soon as he sees I’m nursing, he turns his back to give me some privacy. “Oh, sorry.”

  “You don’t have to do that anymore.”

  He twists around to look at me. “Are you sure? I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

  “As if that’s possible.” I shake my head. “Just a few days ago you were looking at my lady-v when it was in the worst state possible. If there’s anyone in the entire world who can watch me breastfeed, it’s you.”

  He gives me a big grin and turns completely around. “Hallelujah. Because I love watching you.”

  I frown. “What . . . ? Are you some kind of pervert?”

  He limps over bringing a bowl of food, leaving a second one behind on the dresser. “No, I’m not a pervert. But I am kind of fascinated with the way you’ve just picked up this whole motherhood thing and are doing so well at it.”

  My smile is awkward. His compliment makes me feel shy for some reason. “Now you’re just buttering me up.”

  “Nope, just calling it like I see it. You ready to eat some dinner?”

  I look down at the baby. “I’m a little busy right now.”

  “You want me to feed you?” He holds up a fork with what looks like some steaming-hot chicken on it.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Hundred percent. I’ve been feeding those babies of my sister’s for months now. I’m a pro.”

  I shrug. “Seems a little weird, but okay.”

  “Open the hatch.” He blows on the fork a few times to cool the food off before moving it toward my mouth.

  I giggle as I part my lips. This is ridiculous. Silly. But it warms my heart toward him. He really is a good guy. I don’t think anyone seeing him on the street would imagine he could be this tender and considerate. He looks too tough. Serious. Hot.

  The taste of the food in my mouth registers and breaks through my wandering thoughts. “Mmm, that’s good. You made that?”

  “Sure did.” He takes a bite from the same bowl. “I’m not just a one-trick sandwich pony.”

  I nod my head. “Sandwiches and chicken casserole. I think I could survive on that.”

  “Not just survive . . . thrive, baby. You’re gonna thrive.”

  “I like your positive attitude, as misplaced as it might be.”

  “No, see . . . it’s not misplaced. I’ve got it all figured out.”

  “A plan, hmm? Does this plan include me and Tee moving to a private island in the middle of nowhere, where no one can ever find us?”

  “No, not exactly.” His smile disappears. “Although, from what I understand, it might be possible that the feds are going to want to put you into some sort of witness protection program.”

  “Forever?” Two days ago that sounded like a great plan. Tonight . . . not so much. Because I know that means I’ll never see this man again, and the more time I spend with him, the harder that is to bear.

  He gives me another bite of chicken. “I don’t think so. Not forever. I mean, I’m not the authority on this kind of thing, but for sure we can talk to them about it.”

  I talk around my mouthful of food. “Talk to who? I don’t know how it works. Is it the NOPD who decides things? The FBI? The prosecutor?”

  “The FBI.” He takes a bite too, chewing thoroughly before he answers. “I think they’re going to be the ones handling this case. This is way out of bounds for the NOPD.”

  “But if I go into witness protection, doesn’t that mean that I can never contact anybody from my past and they can never contact me?” There’s only one person I’d like to talk to again. Two, if I count Alexei.

  “I don’t know.” He gathers more chicken up onto the fork for me. “I don’t know the details, and I don’t thi
nk we need to worry about that right now. The most important thing is to get the information to the police as quickly as possible so we can put a stop to whatever is happening. We’ll figure out the rest after that.”

  It’s burning me up inside, this idea of disappearing so thoroughly from Thibault’s life. I’m not sure, but I think it bothers him too. The only way I’m going to know for sure, though, is to say something. “But . . . if I go to witness protection, that means I’m not going to see you anymore.” I break out in a cold sweat as I wait for him to respond.

  He gives me another bite of dinner, his eyebrows furrowed and his nostrils flared. “I really don’t think we need to worry about that stuff at this point.”

  I can’t believe how much his response hurts. I’ve assumed too much. I guess I’m going to be one of the girls he’s let go because they weren’t compatible. I might as well make it easy for him to say what he needs to say. “So, what you’re telling me is not to get too attached.”

  “I’m not saying that.” He drops the fork into the bowl and stares into my eyes. His dark expression changes to one that looks . . . anguished. “Listen, I know this is nuts . . . I just met you, and we came together in the weirdest way possible.”

  “You ran into my car.”

  He gives me a somewhat sad grin. “No. I got hit by you driving your car, and then I stood between your legs, cut your panties off your body, and watched you give birth to a miracle baby.”

  I don’t want to get too excited about what he’s saying. He still hasn’t shown me any reason to think he feels a connection to me like I’m starting to feel for him. “So that’s what happened to my panties? You cut them off?” I pretend to be offended, to keep the mood lighter.

  He tries to smile. “What did you expect me to do? There was a baby coming any second. They were in the way.”

  I look down at the boy who brought this man into my life and stroke his cheek. “Those were my favorite ones. You owe me a pair of panties.”

  Thibault reaches up and tucks some strands of hair behind my ear. “I’ll buy you as many panties as you want when we get out of here, but I need you to do something for me first.”

  “What’s that?” I flutter my eyelashes at him, embarrassed about how intimate this feels when I know he’s just being kind to me.

  “Kiss me.”

  My heart leaps and my expression softens as stress leaves my body and heart. He does care about me, at least a little bit. “Oh, that’s easy. I can do that, no problem.”

  His smile is so sexy as he moves in closer. I can tell he’s trying to be tender and gentle, cognizant of the fact that I’m feeding the baby right now. I hang on to his shirt as our lips touch, and then his tongue comes out and touches mine ever so softly.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispers against my mouth.

  “I won’t let you.” I put my free hand in his hair and pull the strands into my fist. He moans and kisses me some more before he breaks off contact to look down at the baby.

  Tee has fallen asleep on my breast. I slowly ease him off, wrapping him up in his blanket.

  “Want me to put him in his bassinet?” Thibault asks.

  I nod, handing him over.

  Thibault gets off the bed and takes the baby gently in his arms, lowering him into the tiny bed next to us on the floor, making sure he’s bundled up with warm blankets all around him so he can’t roll over. Then he sits on the edge of the mattress and takes my hand in his. He looks at me, his expression unreadable. The paranoid part of me says he’s regretting starting something. The hopeful part of me says he’s being respectful.

  “What are we doing?” I ask.

  “I’m not really sure, but I’ll stop if it’s making you uncomfortable.”

  “It’s not making me uncomfortable at all. It’s making me . . . anxious. Not in a bad way, though.” I sigh. “I’m not making any sense, I’m sorry.” I smile at him. “I’m going to blame my confusion on that kiss.”

  He smiles back. “I know that we can’t . . . do certain things right now, because you just had the baby and everything, but if I could just kiss you a little and hold you, that would be really cool.”

  My heart soars up into the clouds. “We could do that.” I pause, not sure how it works. I’ve never just cuddled with a man before. “Are we going to do this with our clothes on or off?”

  “How about we start with them on and see where that gets us?”

  “Okay.” I giggle. I feel like a virgin must when she meets a nice boy who takes things slow. “That’s different.”

  “I know, right?”

  “You’re not normally into rated-PG cuddling?” I ask.

  “To be honest, not really. But for some reason with you it sounds like fun.”

  “I’m going to try to take that as a compliment.” I smile so he knows I’m not being mean.

  He takes my hand and kisses the back of it. “It is a compliment. Big-time.” He looks toward the door. “I’m going to turn the light off, if that’s okay with you.”

  “Sure. Better move the food over first, though.”

  He takes the bowl of chicken casserole and puts it on the dresser.

  “Just be careful of this left knee of mine,” he says, hobbling across the room. “This crazy lady hit me with her car the other day, so it’s pretty sore.”

  “You’d better stop talking about it like that. You know you walked right out into traffic like a blind fool. I’m innocent. No jury will convict me.”

  He comes back to the bed and lies down very slowly. He moves in close and slides his arm under my neck, pulling me toward him. My breasts are pressed against his chest. He props himself up on his elbow partway and leans over me, putting his nose in my neck. He inhales deeply. “You smell so nice.”

  “I need a shower.”

  “No, you don’t. Then you’d just smell like boring old soap and not you.”

  I giggle at his foolishness. “I think there’s something wrong with you. Or at least there’s something wrong with your nose.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with me except for the fact that I’ve got this woman living in my house who’s driving me insane.” He kisses my neck, tickling my skin with his tongue when he’s done.

  I rest my hand on his hip, sighing with the pleasure of being next to him and knowing that I make him as nuts as he makes me. “Maybe you’re feeling a little crazy because you’re sexually frustrated.”

  “That could be it, but I’m not sure. I think it could be this girl’s attitude that drives me wild.” He kisses me on the mouth, playing with my tongue for a few seconds and making my heart race before he stops to look at me.

  “Her attitude?” I look at him with my head slightly tilted, my tone playful. “What are you talking about?”

  He pulls me closer and kisses my neck again. My body goes limp as relaxation and warmth settle into my bones.

  “I think you deliberately bait me to try and make me nuts,” he says.

  “You’re crazy.”

  He pauses and pulls back a little so he can look down at me. “No, actually, I’m pretty intuitive. I think you’re a little bit of a rebel and you enjoy getting a rise out of me just because you can.”

  I love the idea of having that kind of power over this man. “Huh. I think you’re right . . . I think I will enjoy getting a rise out of you.” I reach down and rest my hand against the front of his jeans. He’s rock hard underneath. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m enjoying this, all right.” I can’t stop grinning.

  He moans. “You’d better watch it, girl. I’m going to catch fire down there if you keep that up.”

  I stroke him up and down. “You want me to stop?”

  “Yes and no.” He sighs, pulling away a little.

  My hand stills. His voice is saying yes, but his body language is saying no.

  “It’s going to be really hard for me to stop once we get going, so maybe we should just hold off,” he says.

  He’s being so kind, so genero
us here in this bed with me when I know he wants release. His body has to be aching for it. “I really don’t mind doing things for you, even though I’m not physically ready for you to do anything for me.”

  He kisses me gently and then pulls back again. “I appreciate that, but I think for our first time, it’ll be more fun if we can do something together.”

  Until he responds that way, I hadn’t realized how much of a test I was giving him. He’s proven to me that he does really care about me and isn’t just in this for his own satisfaction. He truly is gentle and kind. I let out a long sigh and move in closer to him. I feel genuinely safe when I’m in his arms.

  “Are you okay?” He tries to see my face, but I leave it tucked into his chest.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just wondering why fate is so mean to me sometimes.”

  He plays with my hair. “What are you talking about?”

  It’s crazy to say these things out loud, but time is so short for us. I know Thibault is right; I’m going to be put in some sort of witness protection program, which means I’ll need to be cut off from him and everybody else in my life. If I don’t say these things now, they’ll never get said.

  “All these years I’ve been looking for a guy like you who would be kind and gentle and understanding . . . watch my back . . . and here you are.”

  He kisses the top of my head. “So, what’s the problem? I’m right here, and I told you I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I don’t mean to be morbid, but I feel like I’m standing at the threshold of either death or oblivion.”

  He laughs a little. “Well, that is pretty morbid. I don’t know why you feel that way, though. I thought things were getting better for you. Was I wrong about that?”

  “Either Pavel is going to come for me and there’ll be nothing I can do about it but say, ‘Goodbye, cruel world,’ or I’ll get put into a witness protection program that forces me to cut off all ties with everything and everyone. Goodbye, New Orleans, and goodbye, you. Like I said . . . fate is mean.”

 

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