Wrapped Up in You

by Jill Shalvis

  This got him a response. Her eyes flashed with emotion. He just wasn’t sure which one.

  “You don’t understand,” she finally said.

  “Then help me understand.”

  She went stubbornly mute, grabbed her clothes from his hands, and turned her back to him.

  When the front door shut behind Kel five minutes later, Ivy dropped her forehead to the wood and took a second to get her bearings.

  Easier said than done.

  Her bathroom had enough standing room for one person, so it’d been cramped quarters as she and Kel had dressed in silence in there. A silence complicated by bare skin brushing bare skin, emotions still high from what they’d shared in her bed, and the adrenaline rush of her brother’s untimely arrival.

  Brandon.

  Of course he’d shown up when he had. Because he’d made it his lifelong mission to make her life as difficult as possible.

  Kel had instantly recognized she’d been telling tall tales about her brother. He’d been kind enough—or pissed off enough—not to press the issue right then. But he’d swing back to it later, she was quite certain.

  Or maybe not. Maybe he’d decide to wash his hands of the crazy chick. She certainly wouldn’t blame him.

  Having no choice but to regroup and face one problem at a time, she drew a deep breath and turned to her brother.

  “Sleeping with a cop? You’ve stepped up in the world.”

  “Why are you here?”

  He cocked his head. “It was interesting to see the way you look at him though, when you don’t think he’s noticing. He makes you happy. Not a look I’ve seen on you much.”

  “He and I barely know each other,” she said. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

  “Happy’s good, Ivy,” Brandon said quietly, voice genuine. “It’s not easy to find, not for people like us.”

  “It’s not like that,” she said.

  “Hey, whatever you say.”

  She was not in the mood for this. Only a little bit ago, she’d been in Kel’s arms with him deep inside her, reminding her what passion and hunger and desire felt like.

  This, with Brandon, was a cold bucket of water, bringing back memories and feelings she thought she’d long ago put behind her. “It was you who stole from my truck and broke in here the other night, wasn’t it?”

  “Of course not.”

  She stared him down, doing her best to ignore certain facts. Like one, dammit, damn him, he was looking at her like she was somebody worth caring about, like he’d actually truly missed her. And then there was the undeniable fact that no matter what she wanted to tell herself, she’d grown up with him, been in the trenches with him. She knew him better than anyone, and knew that she’d been the only person ever able to ground him. To hold him accountable. To encourage him to stay on the right path.

  Which he clearly hadn’t. He had a hollow look to him, and a haunted one as well. He was too thin, like he hadn’t been eating enough for weeks, maybe months, and he had what appeared to be a healing black eye and was favoring his right arm.

  “How did you get hurt?” she asked.

  “Fell down a set of stairs,” he said on a shrug.

  Her stomach tightened at the age-old anxiety over worrying about him and the trouble that followed him around like a bad cold. She moved to the front door and opened it, gesturing with a jerk of her chin that he should go.

  He dropped his head and stared at his shoes for a long beat. When he lifted his head again, he shook his head. “Fine. I didn’t fall down the stairs.”

  All this did was cement the anxiety in her gut. “This is why I dread your visits. I’m sorry you’ve found yourself some new trouble, but you’ve got to go.”

  “Ivy—”

  “Why did you leave my fridge in the truck open? I had to throw away all the food.”

  His eyes revealed a quick flash of regret. “I’m sorry,” he said very quietly. “I was starving and in a hurry. I was being followed.”

  “Followed by who? And why are you even here?”

  He locked her front door. Then slid the security chain in place. “It’s a long story.”

  “So start talking,” she said, watching as he then moved to her windows and lowered the shades. “You’re scaring me.”

  “You have no reason to be scared, you’ve got a big ape outside, ready to beat the shit out of anyone who hurts you.” He turned to face her. “I need two things.”

  “No.”

  “A place to stay tonight,” he said as if she hadn’t spoken. “And . . .” He winced. “Okay, keep an open mind here, alright? I need to borrow some money.”

  “No and no,” she said. “Besides, look around. I don’t have any money.”

  He gave her a long look. “Since when do we lie to each other?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You’ve been snooping.”

  “Enough to know you have a deep savings account.”

  “That’s the down payment on a condo I’m buying.”

  “A condo. Sounds a little fancy for us Snows.”

  That it was actually true made her defensive. “I want a home to call my own. I’ve always wanted that.”

  “I know.” His voice had softened. “You always have more hope and faith than I did.”

  “Not hope and faith. It’s called effing hard work, Brandon. If you used your powers for good instead of for fun, you could have whatever you wanted.”

  “So this condo. Tell me about it.”

  “It’s a secure building, so I can stop being paranoid,” she said. “The kitchen’s . . . glorious. And there’re great amenities, a gym, business center, pool . . .”

  He smiled. “Sounds like it suits you.”

  “It does.”

  “I’m going to hope you’ve got room in your heart for both your fancy, new condo and for your brother.”

  She sighed.

  “Can I stay?”

  “You do remember last time, right? Two years ago when I was living in LA? You showed up and needed a place to stay. The next morning you were gone. And so was the money in my wallet and the cash I had in my hiding spot.”

  “Ivy, under the mattress isn’t a hiding spot for cash. It’s where you’re supposed to keep the sex toys.”

  She pointed to the door. “Get out.”

  “Please, Ivy. It’s an emergency.”

  She stared at him, trying to get a read on all he wasn’t saying. But other than looking pretty serious at the moment—extremely unlike him—he wasn’t revealing much. “What will happen if I kick you out right now?” she asked.

  “Besides your boyfriend giving me the third degree when I hit the street? You don’t want to know.”

  Dammit. She shook her head. “One night, that’s it, no money. And I want Aunt Cathy’s necklace back.”

  “You won’t regret it,” he said with clear relief. “What was for dinner?”

  “I’m going to shower but there’s food in the fridge.”

  Thirty minutes later she came out of the steamed up bathroom and stopped in surprise. Her brother was vacuuming. And by the looks of things, he’d also tidied up, including cleaning the kitchen. “Why are you here?”

  He flashed her a sweet smile. “Made you some hot chocolate.”

  “Did you steal anything?” she asked him suspiciously.

  “Not yet,” he said with a look of innocence that she knew could fool the pope.

  Great. So he’d been looking for something else of hers to sell for cash. Moving to a window, she pulled the shades aside and looked down to the street. Kel’s truck was still at the curb. He’d meant it. It wasn’t often that someone told her something and followed through or kept their word, so it was still a novelty.

  Was he sleeping?

  If not for their untimely interruption, they might’ve slept the entire night together, wrapped up tight and warm in each other. She’d never wanted such a thing before, but the idea of it with Kel sent shocking waves of yearning through her.

>   “So,” Brandon said. “Where do you keep the booze?”

  Chapter 18

  If you want to see results, you’ve got to stay with me

  Two hours later Kel was still in his truck in front of Ivy’s place. He was head back, baseball cap low over his eyes to cut the glare from the streetlamp on the other side of the street, but he wasn’t sleeping. He was reflecting. On being back here in a city he’d left at age twelve after losing . . . well, everything, on whether or not he missed Idaho, on the fact that he and Ivy had pretty much decimated each other in her bed in the very best of ways and he still wanted more.

  The way she’d felt wrapped around him, his name on those soft lips, along with everything else she’d done with that sweet, sexy mouth—

  The passenger door opened.

  “I could’ve been a murderer, you know,” Ivy said and hopped into the passenger seat. “You can’t just sit in an unlocked vehicle in this neighborhood, cowboy. It’s dangerous.”

  He slid her a look, amused that she seemed to think he was naive. “I heard you coming.”

  “Why are you still here?”

  “You know why.”

  “I agreed to call if I needed you.”

  “You don’t do need,” he said.

  She lifted a shoulder in agreement to that fact. Then sighed and assumed his position, relaxing against the seat, tilting her head back. “You don’t have to do this.”

  He hadn’t moved a muscle, and he didn’t now either, going still as stone. Did she mean be with her, or watching her back? “Define ‘this,’” he said.

  “Guard me. I’ve been watching my own back for a long time now. I’m good at it.”

  He looked over at her, but her eyes were still closed. “I’ve got no doubt of that,” he said. And that was true. She was clearly capable, smart, wily . . . It was all sexy as hell. “Sometimes in life you meet someone,” he said. “And suddenly you don’t have to be alone all the time. You can share the burden. Relax your guard.”

  “For the few remaining days you’ve got here in town, you mean?”

  This caused an odd stab of pain in his chest. “Sometimes you only get a beat in time. Sometimes you get a lot longer. But what you don’t do is let it pass you by. Not when it’s this good, Ivy.”

  She didn’t respond to that. Her body appeared relaxed, but he knew better. He was starting to know her now and this was her false calm, the one that was only skin deep, the one she showed the world, while on the inside, she was scrambling.

  He turned in his seat, lifting his hand to the back of her head, letting his fingers slip beneath her hair to knead at the tight muscles of her neck. “Do you want to tell me what’s really going on with your brother?”

  “That depends,” she said.

  “On what?”

  “On if I’m talking to the man I just had sex with, or the cop.” With that, she opened her eyes and turned her head to meet his gaze. “Because if I’m talking to the guy who just rocked my world . . .”

  He let out a long shaky breath, filing that incredibly welcome compliment away for later. He had a decision to make, and in that moment, looking into her wary, guarded eyes, he knew there wasn’t a choice. “Yes,” he said. “You’re talking to the guy who just rocked your world. Just as you rocked his.”

  She bit her lower lip, which didn’t hide her small, quick smile. “Then I’d tell him that my brother makes bad decisions, but he promised one night and he’d be gone.”

  “Okay. And what would you tell the cop?”

  She held his gaze. “That I haven’t seen my brother in months.”

  So she was willing to lie for the guy. Not an easy pill for him to swallow. He’d spent some of his time sitting out here looking up her brother. Brandon was a convicted felon in three states. A lot worse than she’d made him out to be. “What do you have against cops?”

  “A lot.”

  “On duty or off, I’m the same guy, Ivy.”

  “Then you’re one of the rare ones,” she said softly, and sighed heavily. “Listen, about Brandon. I . . . need to explain him.”

  “Not to me, you don’t. You don’t owe me anything.” He wrapped a strand of her silky hair around a finger. “I know exactly how family works. You’re not responsible for his actions, Ivy. Nor for the consequences of those actions.”

  She stared at him for a long beat, then let out a breath, along with an acknowledging nod. “I appreciate that. I’m not exactly used to caring what anyone else thinks. But I seem to care what you think,” she admitted, not sounding too pleased about it. “My brother is the way he is because of how we grew up. No father figure, and a mom who slept the days away and was never home at night. There wasn’t anyone to notice if we had meals or clothes to wear, or if we went to school. Brandon learned early on how to pickpocket, and it was thanks to that thieving that we weren’t always hungry and didn’t have to go to school barefoot.”

  Kel drew a deep breath, hating the picture she’d painted. “No one should grow up like that. But look at yourself, Ivy. You grew up in that same hell and you’re not out there still thieving for a living. Don’t make excuses for him.”

  “I’m not making excuses. I’m telling you why he does stupid shit. I was just smart and liked school. I loved reading and loved the library, and both kept me out of trouble. He didn’t have that. He cut classes and hung out with bad kids, but honestly, when you move from school to school to school like we did, it’s only the bad kids who want to befriend you anyway. It’s not all his fault.”

  Kel reached for her hand, entangling their fingers and tugging lightly until she looked at him. “People make choices. You made good choices. He didn’t.”

  “It’s not that simple. And he’s family.”

  She was defending Brandon because he was family, even though the guy had hurt her. In comparison, when his mom had hurt him all those years ago, he’d not only held on to the grudge, he’d nursed it, let it eat him alive, and used it as an excuse to not have a relationship with his family.

  Ivy was watching him in the ambient lighting of the truck. “We all have our family ghosts,” she said quietly. “Your mom’s husband, is he a good guy?”

  “Henry seems okay,” he said, though in truth he didn’t know much about him.

  “But she’s happy?”

  He didn’t know that either, and he didn’t feel good about that.

  “It seems like she is,” Ivy said gently.

  Kel closed his eyes. “You know who I’d rather talk about?”

  “My stupid brother?”

  “No. You.” He opened his eyes. “Something’s bothering me. You’ve got friends who care about you. Caleb, Sadie, and the others. Why make up stories about Brandon?”

  She tossed up her hands. “I’ve always lied about Brandon. Call it . . . I don’t know, wishful thinking.”

  “But why lie? Why just not talk about him at all?”

  She looked away, out the passenger side window into the dark, wet night. “Did you know that until I landed here in Cow Hollow last year, I didn’t really do the whole friendship thing?”

  She looked like she felt alone, very alone, and his chest ached for her. “That’s changed.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t tell them now. It’s too late.”

  He cupped her face. “They’d understand.”

  “I’m going to ask you for one thing, Kel,” she said in soft steel. “That you don’t tell them.”

  He’d have said that he’d never hold a lie for anyone, not ever again. He’d have sworn it. And yet here he was, looking into her big blue eyes filled with a vulnerability he knew she hated, and he nodded. “But no more lies, Ivy. Not between us. Promise me.”

  Staring at him, she hesitated and then slowly nodded.

  He let out a breath and kissed her. She kissed him back, but when it got heated, she pulled free. “Go home,” she whispered. “It’s late and you have work tomorrow. It’ll be okay. I’ve got this. Like I said, he’s an idiot, but h
e’s my idiot.”

  Feeling reluctant to do that, he hesitated. But she had that look on her face, the one that was in the dictionary under stubborn. “You’ve got to promise you’ll call me if things go sideways,” he said. “Or if things even look like they’re going sideways. Or even the slightest chance of things going side—”

  “I hear you.”

  “Is that a promise too? If you need me, you’ll call?”

  “Yes,” she said. “But they won’t. He’s leaving in the morning. Nothing’s going sideways.”

  “Okay.” He still didn’t let go of her. Couldn’t. “You busy tomorrow night?”

  She let out a small smile. “We already had a date, cowboy.”

  “I want another.”

  She cocked her head and studied him, and he did his best to look like the only thing she needed in her life. He must have succeeded because she smiled. “Is this because you’re trying to avoid going to your sister’s surprise baby shower?”

  “No, that’s the next night. Which reminds me, how do you feel about three dates in a row?”

  She snorted. “You sure you want company to the shower? Filled with family? I mean, that makes me a witness.”

  He laughed. “There’ll be no bloodshed.” Probably. “And yeah, I want your company.”

  “Because you want to use me to deflect the attention off you,” she said.

  No, because he actually wanted to spend time with her, but that was more info than she needed right now. “Is that a problem?”

  “Not even a little,” she said, and he resisted pulling her onto his lap and showing her some gratitude of the naked variety, but only because they were in public.

  Taking in his expression, she laughed softly. “You can thank me after.”

  Sounded promising.

  Ivy woke up the next morning and looked over at the loveseat where Brandon had slept.

  It was empty.

  It took two seconds to look around. Brandon’s backpack was gone. The mugs they’d had hot chocolate in late last night after she’d come back upstairs from talking to Kel were no longer in the sink, but washed and put away.