by Jess Bryant
He supposed he had Decker to thank for that. Chrissy. Remy. All of the Bomars really. They’d made him violent and then they took advantage of it for their own purposes.
But he wasn’t feeling violent right now. He wasn’t feeling angry. He was edgy but not in the way he needed to be. He was edgy because tonight he didn’t want to be the guy that used his fists to fix his problems. Not when he could stay here, with Skylar, and simply hold her. Even though he knew he had no right to the feeling of peace she gave him.
As if his real world knew he was getting too comfortable in this dream, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Skylar moaned and mumbled something in her sleep. He thought she said something about heating blankets but he couldn’t be sure. She cuddled closer into him, burying her face in his shoulder and all but crawling on top of him. He groaned but otherwise held himself completely still until she had resettled.
He had to get up. Had to check his phone. He had no doubt it was Cash, again, checking on him. Checking on Skylar by extension. Jemma would be worried because she hadn’t heard back from him and his brother would be pissed that he hadn’t thought to call and put her worries at ease. He had to deal with them and the reality check was what he needed.
Slowly and carefully, he rolled Skylar to her back and slipped out of the bed. He pulled the blankets up all around her and tried not to grin when she pouted in her sleep. She reached out as if she was trying to keep him there but ultimately she collapsed back into unconsciousness without ever waking up.
Lord, he wanted to crawl back into that bed with her. He felt cold without her heat. He felt lonely too, which made him edgier than he’d ever been because he didn’t know what to do with feelings like that. She made him feel things he’d sworn he would never feel, didn’t even believe in, and that was why he had to get away from her.
He was dangerous to her. He knew that. He thought she knew that. What he’d always known, what nobody else seemed to understand, was how dangerous she was to him.
If she could make him feel like this, she could hurt him. She had the power to destroy him and she wasn’t even his. How much worse would it be if he let himself have her and lost her? If he hurt her, it would destroy him. It was better for both of them if he stuck to the rules.
Close but not too close.
His phone buzzed again and he swallowed a growl. Damn it, now wasn’t the time to get distracted. He had shit to do. Dark, dangerous shit that he couldn’t have touching the beautiful girl lying so peaceful and trusting in her bed. He wasn’t good enough for her and what he was leaving her to go do was all the reminder he needed of why he couldn’t let her any closer.
He bent over and brushed her hair back before planting a light kiss against her forehead, “Goodnight angel.”
After one last look at her, memorizing every detail of her, he turned and walked away. Back to his real life. Back to the darkness that he was accustomed to. He’d survived without a light in the darkness for a long time but the past three weeks without her had been almost unbearable.
He didn’t know how she’d become so important to him. He just knew that she was. And that meant he had to protect her from his darkness, even if that meant staying away.
Chapter Four
It was the cheery, happy tones of Katy Perry that managed to seep in past the worst of the drowsiness. She’d been in the middle of the best dream and wanted to hold onto it for just a few minutes longer. If she didn’t open her eyes she could almost pretend that she was still in that warm, safe place, wrapped in a pair of strong, tattooed arms.
The ding of the phone that indicated a new voicemail pulled her eyes open and sadly reality was nowhere near as great as the fictional world her mind had conjured. That one revolved around a gorgeous man that had held her through the night and whispered to her in the darkness. In the harsh light of morning, she became aware that she was all alone and though the worst of the sickness had seemed to pass she was left with a residual feeling that nothing in her life was quite right anymore.
When the phone buzzed again, this time with a text message, Skylar groaned and rolled over to grab it off the nightstand. It was Jemma but she’d already known that and not just because of her ringtone. Nobody else would have dared to call her at… ugh, nine am on a Saturday.
She’d have to decide if she was going into the salon soon anyway so it was a good thing the phone had woken her. She sat upright and since she didn’t feel the immediate urge to barf she was leaning towards going to work. She’d already had Rachel, her assistant, reschedule all of her clients yesterday and she didn’t like the idea of letting more people down.
Skylar wiped her hair back off her face and squinted at the screen on the phone. She had fourteen missed calls. Fourteen! What the hell?
She scrolled through the oldest messages first, trying to figure out what she’d missed. It seemed she’d passed out early and when her friend couldn’t reach her, Jemma had freaked out. There was nothing from her parents so she was grateful Jemma hadn’t called in reinforcements. She flipped up to the newest message and read it twice before her brain wrapped itself around what the words meant.
Talked 2 Colt last night. He said u were asleep but ok. Call when u get up. Luv u. Ttys.
Skylar blew out a shaky breath and quickly glanced around the empty room. Just as she’d suspected, she was alone. There was no hulking man beast lurking in the shadows, but then, why did she get the feeling she was missing something important? And how had she gotten to bed?
She was almost certain she’d passed out on the floor of her bathroom now that she thought about it. She’d made herself a blanket fort and curled up with every intention of not moving until the urge to hack up her stomach lining passed. Yet here she was, in bed and… she glanced at the nightstand with a mix of horror and awe because there was a bottle of water, aspirin and a damp washcloth.
Plus, her phone had been plugged in. It had gone dead yesterday afternoon. And she knew she hadn’t plugged it in.
Oh God… her night came rushing back to her in a wash of vague, foggy memories. It hadn’t been a dream. She’d thought it was because she’d been really sick and out of it. She’d thought it couldn’t be real because the man in her dream, the kind, sweet, comforting man that held her close and took care of her was nothing more than a fantasy. The real man was too hard, too rough, too distant to do all of the things he had done last night.
But he had.
Colt had appeared out of the darkness. He had carried her to bed. He’d taken care of her. He’d crawled into bed with her when she shivered uncontrollably and he’d held her until she slipped back into sleep. And then, apparently at some point in the middle of the night, he had left.
She was nearly certain that shouldn’t break her heart but it did. Because it wasn’t fair! It wasn’t fair that she’d gotten to spend a night in the arms of the man of her dreams and only barely remembered it. It wasn’t fair that she hadn’t gotten to wake up to his handsome face when she’d wished so many times for just that. It wasn’t fair and she grabbed her pillow and buried her face in it to scream out her frustration.
Only, as soon as she put her face against the pillow, her heart stuttered in her chest. That deep ache of longing, the one she’d lived with for months, twisted at her insides. The pillow smelled like him.
Colt had lain there with her cuddled up against him and the pillow had soaked in his scent. That musky, masculine essence that did crazy things to her body Even now, tired and hungry and feeling hungover from her sickness, just the smell of the man made her breathing quicken and her heart race. She bit off a whimper of need as desire rolled through her sickly body.
With her eyes closed, she could see him so clearly. His sandy hair not quite brown or blonde, spiked and unruly because he’d been running his hands through it. Those intense blue eyes that looked at her as if he knew all of her darkest, dirtiest secrets. Those lips that curled so easily into a smile, flashing boyish dimples that took away all of his hard edges. L
ips that had been so close to hers if she just leaned up, leaned forward, she could have...
Wrong, so wrong, her head chose that moment to remind her. She shoved the pillow away and forced her eyes back open. It was wrong of her to daydream about kissing Colt. Just like it had been wrong to curl up around him and let him take care of her. Wrong of her to be thrilled that her big, tough Bomar boy had been worried about her, because he wasn’t hers.
She still had a boyfriend!
Ugh, Skylar kicked off the blankets that were suddenly much too warm and tried to piece the entirety of her night together. It was faded and fuzzy, as if it had happened years ago instead of mere hours. Still, despite her weakened state, she knew those memories were ones she would hold onto forever.
Colt Bomar had taken care of her and though it felt like a dream through the lens of her sick brain, it hadn’t been. He’d really come to check on her. He’d been worried about her. He’d touched her as if she were a small, precious thing that he didn’t want to break and he’d looked at her so softly, so tenderly, that she’d seen things there that she was certain he hadn’t known he was showing her.
He cared about her, more than he let on, more than he wanted to, but he did. Despite her illness, despite the circumstances, last night had changed something between them. She could feel it all the way down in her soul. They’d had a moment when he told her that he would always be there for her.
So why had he left without a word? He could have woken her. He could have left a note. He could have sent her a text. But he hadn’t and despite all of her amazing memories of last night and those stolen moments in the dark, she knew why he’d left.
She and Colt were friends. Sometimes that surprised even her, but it was true. They were very different people, had experienced very different childhoods. She’d grown up in a loving home with parents that doted on her every second, hovered and overprotected. He’d grown up in an abusive, neglectful environment with people that would have just as soon seen him dead. Still, despite their differences, they’d found things they had in common too.
They lived in the same place. They worked in the same place. They were both business owners. They were both creative and expressive. They both liked to get their way, could be stubborn as mules and most importantly they were both totally and completely loyal to the people in their lives that they cared about.
Their friendship had been a big deal for her because it was when she’d decided to forgive Colt for his childhood sins against Jemma that she truly saw him for the first time. Not the Bomar full of bravado that he showed the world but him. And because she had seen behind the curtain, she knew that it was a big deal for him too. Even if he would never admit it.
Colt didn’t let many people in. He didn’t have a lot of friends. Hell, for the most part the only people he socialized with on any sort of regular basis were his brothers and cousins, other Bomars. Say what you want about the backwater Bomar boys but they were a tight knit crew.
Of course that might have something to do with the fact that they didn’t trust outsiders because of all their illegal activities.
She knew Colt didn’t even trust his cousins. He’d told her once that he didn’t trust anyone but Cash but sometimes she wondered if even his twin knew all of his secrets. She didn’t think so and that made her heart yearn for him, for the boy who had been hurt so badly by the people that should have protected him from the world. She didn’t know if she’d convinced him to trust her yet but she did know that he’d let her get a lot closer to him than anyone else did.
It was a gift. She knew that. Because when he was open and happy, it was like being in the presence of a bright, shining star. He could be fun, playful and even easygoing.
But when he had a bad day, when the darkness of his past overwhelmed him and he lashed out with his sharp tongue and brutal fists, he was destruction personified and it hurt. It hurt to be close to him and then have him push her away. It hurt to know that he was keeping her at arm’s length. It hurt to see him hurting and know she could do nothing to help him, because he wouldn’t let her.
So she wasn’t surprised that he had run for the hills while she was passed out. He’d let her see his worry for her last night. His soft, sensitive side that he tried so hard to hide, had been right there at the surface. And she remembered their talk about him not apologizing for being an asshole, knew she would probably never get that apology, but just talking about it had helped clear the air.
He wouldn’t apologize because he saw it as a weakness. Not a strength. And until that changed, there was nothing she could do to get through to him.
Skylar sighed and pulled herself out of bed. It was probably for the best. What would she have said if she’d woken up in his arms this morning? What would she have done? Nothing good for either of them that was for sure.
She’d spent a good portion of her sick day dreaming about her friend but she was giving herself a pass on that worst person ever award just this once. She’d been delusional and could blame the fever. She felt a little bit better today, at least enough to identify that guilty feeling churning in her stomach as she made her way to the shower.
It was back to the real world today. Back to work. Back to her boyfriend.
She groaned and silently cursed herself as she stepped under the hot spray of water. She should have ended her relationship with the hunky rig hand months ago. She knew that and she suspected Trey did too.
Things between them weren’t bad, it had never been bad. They got along well enough and never fought about anything. But there had been a rod of tension over their interactions lately and it stemmed from her wayward thoughts about another man that she couldn’t seem to control.
For too long now, she’d told herself she wasn’t leading Trey on. They’d never had the talk about where things were going or even about how serious they were, or weren’t as the case may be. She didn’t think she was going to break his heart when she told him it wasn’t working, but still she’d hesitated.
He was everything she should want in a guy. Open, honest, kind, easy. And as long as she was with him she didn’t have to admit that what she really wanted was dark and stormy and sometimes treated her badly. Because what self-respecting woman fell for a man that cursed at her and pushed her away every single time she got close to him?
No, she shouldn’t like Colt. She shouldn’t want him but she did. Because he didn’t treat her with kid gloves like so many other people in her life. He didn’t dance around her feelings or soften his blows. He let all of his rough edges scratch her and she loved him for that even if she shouldn’t.
She wasn’t in love with Trey and staying in a relationship with him just because it was easy didn’t sit right with her after last night. For weeks, maybe even months, she’d told herself that Colt didn’t want her the same way she wanted him. But after last night, her heart refused to buy the lie her brain needed to accept that anymore.
He might not want to want her, but he did and that was a start. It gave her hope. It gave her a reason to go after what she wanted and that meant letting go of what she didn’t.
She’d already planned to break things with Trey off but last night had reconfirmed that decision for her.
After standing in the shower far too long analyzing her night with Colt, Skylar finally pulled herself together and went to her bedroom. She had to get a move on or she’d be late for her first appointment at ten. Her assistant would open for her but after missing the day before she had no idea what she would be walking into, so she forced herself to stop daydreaming and get dressed.
By the time she’d blow-dried, straightened her hair and put on makeup, she looked more like herself but she was exhausted. She preferred to dress up for her job, liked looking good, and really liked her stilettos, but it took every ounce of energy she had to get dressed today. She pulled on her favorite pair of skin-tight blue jeans, a loose fitting halter top and the sexy, red stilettos that Jemma had given her as a gift for letting her move
in and gave herself one last glance in the mirror.
She had dark circles under her eyes. Her face was a little pale. But she felt better than she had in twenty-four hours so she grabbed her keys and her purse and headed for the door.
Belatedly, she remembered she’d never responded to Jemma and typed out a quick message letting her friend know that she was alive and feeling a little bit better. It wasn’t much but it might keep Jemma from calling another dozen times while she was at work. She added that she was headed to the salon and would call later in the day before tucking the phone into her pocket.
She was halfway to the door when she heard the knock and couldn’t control the way her heart leapt in her chest. Maybe Colt had come back to check on her before heading to work himself. She rushed to the door and pulled it open only to feel her smile fall.
“Mom. Hey.” She recovered quickly and tried not to let her disappointment show, “What are you doing here?”
The woman standing in her doorway looked so out of place in the ragged, old apartment complex it was hilarious. Her mother looked out of place anywhere that didn’t have parking attendants. In her pristine white summer pants, bright pink tailored blouse and wedge heels, she looked like the rich, entitled country club socialite she’d been born to be. Only the wild look in her blue eyes and the slight disarray the wind had made in her sharp blonde bob hinted that she wasn’t as put together as she seemed.
“What am I doing here?” Melanie Holland raised two perfectly sculpted eyebrows, “That’s how you greet your mother, the woman that gave birth to you and has cared for you all of your life?”
“Ah…” Skylar let the door fall open, knowing she wasn’t leaving anytime soon, “I guess you heard I was sick yesterday.”