by Alexa Wilder
I thought of the past three days together. It had started with need and want. I’d needed a date. And the moment we’d met, we’d both wanted sex. That was the simple part. If this was just about sex, I would have been shouting yes.
But I knew myself. I couldn’t live with a man if all we had was sex. Even the best orgasm wouldn’t make up for all the annoyances that came with sharing living space with a virtual stranger. And if sex was all he wanted, he could install me in one of his hotel rooms and have me close, but not in his space. So this was more than sex. I took another deep breath, remembering my favorite times with Dylan that weekend. Not counting the sex - I’d already covered that part.
It wasn’t the shopping, though that had been fun. And it wasn’t walking into the rehearsal dinner and seeing jealousy on the other women’s faces. No, it was the conversation over lunch the day before. His hand rubbing my back in the hospital. The way he’d brought me to my house that morning, knowing I’d need to see the fire for myself, then brought me back home and tucked me into bed, already knowing I’d needed a nap.
It was his intelligence, his kindness, his sweetness. It was that beneath the movie star good looks, he was a man worth loving. And if he saw even a fraction of that in me, I really would be crazy to walk away just because I was scared. Still, I was nothing if not sensible, even when I was ready to take a huge risk. Opening my eyes, I said,
“Okay. I’ll move in with you. But once my insurance stuff is worked out, we’ll talk about how it’s going and if either of us is having second thoughts, we’ll make other arrangements.”
“Deal.”
Dylan’s arms came around me, drawing me close, the look in his eyes one of heated tenderness. At that moment, I was ready to ditch the wedding and head right back upstairs. His lips took mine in a kiss of pure possession. I kissed him back, ready to be brave, to claim this man as my own.
I was trying to wipe the edge of my lips discreetly when the Dylan pressed the button to release the elevator doors. They slid open to reveal my mother, whose eyes widened for a moment before she let loose with a wide smile.
“I was wondering where you two were. Come on, we’re almost late. Though you know Christie won’t be ready on time. But we should be there. You look beautiful, Leigha, just wonderful.”
She kept up a steady stream of chatter as she led us to the Delecta’s wedding chapel. Taking in the elegant room, it was clear the casino did a big business in weddings. We slid into our aisle after Dylan scowled away the usher who tried to take my arm. Not too many minutes later, the music kicked in and the ceremony began.
Thankfully, it was a quick wedding. Neither the bride nor groom was particularly religious or spiritual, and they stuck with the basics. A few words, some back and forth on the vows, a kiss and they were done. I was ready to get to the reception, then escape to be alone with Dylan as soon as possible.
I was thinking about luring him into another dark hallway, though this time we’d keep it clean, when my mother linked her arm with mine and drew me away from Dylan. He caught my free hand in his and said, “Don’t leave my sight, not until Steven is in custody.”
“I won’t,” I said, letting my mother pull me toward the chapel exit.
“Dylan can do without you for a minute or two,” she said, tucking my arm in hers as we walked. “I’ve never seen you look so beautiful, honey. You’re glowing. Is it love? Or just really amazing sex?”
“Mom!” I was a fully grown woman, but my Mom could still make me blush.
“I think it’s both,” she said with a satisfied smile. I remained silent, admitting nothing as she went on, “I knew you’d hook him, honey.”
“Mom, he’s not a fish,” I said, my need to defend Dylan forcing me out of my mortified silence.
“No, he’s a whale.” She giggled. “Seriously, honey, I knew you’d get him. The way he looks at you. Whew!” She pretended to fan herself.
“I’m moving in with him,” I admitted. She patted my arm.
“Good girl.”
“It’s not about that,” I protested, worried that she thought I was after Dylan for his money.
“What?” she asked, “The money or the sex? I know you, Leigha, so I know it’s not about the money. Anyway, greedy bitches don’t get men like that. The only way to get a man like Dylan is just to be you.”
It was exactly what I needed to hear. Most of my uncertainty over my relationship with Dylan melted into a warm glow in my chest. I was lifting an arm to hug my Mom when I heard a shout off to the left. Curious, I turned to see Steven bearing down on us, wildly waving a gun in one hand.
I backed away in horror, shouting Dylan’s name and trying to shove my mother behind me. I was taller and bigger, but she had a mother’s need to protect her child, and we ended up scuffling when we should have been running. All the while, Steven came closer, shouting in unintelligible bursts.
I couldn’t see Dylan in the suddenly screaming, milling crowd on the casino floor. From the sides of the vast room men in identical black suits melted out of the sea of people, some of them speaking into clear plastic earpieces, a few brandishing guns. They would have been comforting if they hadn’t been so far away.
In slow motion I watched Steven raise the gun and aim it at me, shouting, “I’m going to kill you, you bitch.”
Out of nowhere, Dylan launched himself through the air, catching Steven in his gut, taking him to the floor in a tangle of limbs. A blast echoed as the gun went off, followed by a crash as the bullet hit a chandelier above. The impact of hitting the floor jarred the gun from Steven’s hand where it was picked up by one of the black suited security guards. Shards of crystal fell around us as I rushed toward them, heedless of the danger in my need to get to Dylan. A hard arm caught me in the midsection, dragging me back. I struggled until I heard a familiar voice in my ear.
“Stay back Leigha. Dylan’s fine,” Axel said.
“How did Steven get in here?” I demanded.
“We’re working on figuring that out. The police are already here. He’ll be gone in a minute.”
I didn’t want to wait. I wanted to talk to him before he was taken away. Wrenching back from Axel, I headed for Dylan and Steven. Axel was clearly unwilling to wrestle me down because he followed without further discussion.
Dylan held Steven on the floor with a knee to his neck. Steven wasn’t struggling, but Dylan scowled at me and said,
“Leigha, get back.” Looking at Axel, he growled, “What the fuck?”
“I want to talk to him,” I said.
“No,” Dylan answered. “There’s nothing this asshole has to say that you need to hear.”
“Dylan, I want to talk to him. Please.” Dylan scowled at me, but slid his knee back and pulled Steven to a sitting position. Axel moved behind Steven, producing a set of handcuffs. He secured Steven’s hands with the smooth skill born of practice.
“Why?” I asked Steven, finally meeting his enraged brown eyes. “You stole from me. You burned my house to the ground. Now you try to kill me.” Behind me, I heard my mother gasp. “Why?” I demanded. “Why me? What did I do to you?”
“This is all your fault, you stupid, fucking bitch. Everything was fine until your fucking ten grand. That was the money that put me in the hole with Tsepov. I haven’t won a hand of cards since I bet that money. You killed my luck and then you couldn’t make it right. Burning down your house should have broken the curse, but it didn’t. I need you dead.”
I stared at him, dumbfounded. “You did all this because you think I’m responsible for your bad luck at cards?”
“It’s you. It’s your fault. All of it.” He started to mumble under his breath. Now that I was closer, I could smell the sour scent of stale liquor coming off him. I looked over at Dylan, who had come to his feet and moved beside me.
“He’s insane,” I said, hearing the amazement in my voice. “Completely nuts. He tried to kill me because he had bad luck at cards after betting the money he stole from me? Is
that what he just said? Seriously?”
“It is,” Dylan agreed sliding his arms around me from behind. Abruptly the jolt of adrenaline from seeing the gun faded, and I leaned back into Dylan’s warmth. Together, we watched five policemen separate the crowd as they headed for Steven. His prone body disappeared under the swarm of blue. They yanked him to his feet, escorted him across the main floor of the Delecta, and out of my life.
I was sure I’d have to deal with him again when he went to trial, but for now I was free from the threat of further destruction.
“Don’t do that again,” I said to Dylan, turning to brush a stray piece of carpet fluff off his sleeve. “He could have shot you.”
“He was going to shoot you,” Dylan said. “Don’t try to stop me from protecting you again, Leigha. I won’t do it. You’re mine. I’d take a bullet if I had to.”
My heart swelled. Dylan was sweet and terrifying at the same time.
“Okay, how about I just stay away from crazy men with guns, and then you won’t have to go near any bullets?”
“That works for me,” he said, pressing a kiss to my lips. I wanted more, but we were surrounded by people, one of whom was my mother. As I leaned into his arms I heard my sister’s shrill voice say,
“Is the drama over yet? I’d like to get back to my wedding!”
Typical. I almost get shot and she’s worried about it interrupting her party. Any other day she might have bothered me, but not today. Not when I’d just decided to move in with an amazing man who’d saved my life.
“Come on,” Dylan said, wrapping his arm around my shoulders in a possessive hold. “Let’s go. I want to dance with you at the wedding.”
That I could do. Though the way he said ‘wedding’ made me a little nervous. Three days and I’d agreed to move in. He wasn’t going to get any ideas about weddings, was he?
Mentally, I shrugged. I was done worrying about the future, at least for now. Life was too good to stress. Instead, I was going to hang on tight to Dylan and enjoy the ride.
Epilogue
Four Months Later
I sat at the bar studying my mostly full appletini and waiting for Dylan. I hadn’t been back to this place since the night I’d met Dylan here. Tonight, another Thursday, it wasn’t crowded. I was even wearing another navy blue dress, though Lola had picked this one out, and it looked much better on me than the dress I’d been wearing the night Dylan had swept into my life.
It was funny to be here, sitting on the same stool, remembering how miserable I’d been until Dylan sat beside me and asked about my day. Since we’d met I’d known happiness I hadn’t believed possible, even in those first few days with Steven’s video and my house burning down.
I never ended up moving out of Dylan’s penthouse. By the time the insurance was settled, and I had a big fat check to spend on a new home, I’d been at Dylan’s for a month and couldn’t imagine wanting to leave. I’d worried that he might be ready to have his space back. After all, when we’d met Dylan had a reputation as a player. A part of me had wondered if he really could have changed so thoroughly in such a short time. That small, doubting voice in my head couldn’t quite believe I’d gotten so lucky.
Dylan had solved that problem in his typical no bullshit way. Coming home the night after I’d met with the insurance adjuster, he’d looked at the envelope with the check sitting on the counter and immediately knew what it was. Not wasting time, he’d cornered me in the living room.
“Is that the check for your house?” he’d asked, his green eyes examining my face. I’d nodded. He came closer, backing me into his desk, caging me with his arms. “And?”
“And,” I said, swallowing to work up my nerve, “I can move out now. If you want me to.” My stomach twisted in a queasy knot. I needed to give him an out, needed to know I’d made it easy for him.
“Is that what you want?” he asked.
Unable to speak, I just shook my head.
“Then what do you want?” he’d asked gently, tracing one finger over my cheekbone. Searching for courage, I looked him in the eyes and said,
“I want you. I want to stay.”
He’d closed his arms around me, pulling me tight to his body and whispered in my ear.
“Good. Because I don’t think I could let you leave. I love you Leigha Carmichael.”
Melting into him, I’d whispered back, “I love you too, Dylan Kane.”
That had been the real beginning. That moment was when we stopped hiding our hearts and admitted how much we wanted to be together. Since then, life had fallen into an easy rhythm. We both worked full days, Dylan often busy in his office late into the night. I usually waited up for him, sometimes falling asleep on the couch in front of the TV. I’d wake to feel him lifting me in his arms, carrying me to our bed.
Sometimes Dylan had social events we needed to go to, part work and part play. I enjoyed these far more than I’d expected, mostly because I was on Dylan’s arm and sporting whatever divine outfit Lola had put together for me. She was my new savior where clothes were concerned. I’d never loved shopping in the past, always too self conscious about my shape to have any fun trying things on. But Lola knew what would flatter me, and she had a wonderful eye for color. I asked her for help replacing all my clothes and she’d outfitted me with a wardrobe to kill for, even before I knew I wouldn’t need all the insurance money for a new house.
I had to admit since I’d officially moved in with Dylan I’d gone a little nuts over shoes. True to my accountant’s heart, I’d socked most of it away in reliable investments. But my new closet was huge, and I’d discovered I loved expensive heels. Mostly for me, but I couldn’t help but love the look Dylan got when he saw me in a sweet pair of sexy heels. Really, that look was for me too.
My phone beeped in front of me and I checked the screen.
On my way. Got held up on a call.
Dylan. I’d learned that, as I’d suspected, that first weekend aside, he worked a lot. But I rarely had to ask him to make time for me. He always remembered our plans and kept me posted if he was late or had to reschedule. I did my best to be understanding, aware that when tax season rolled around, he’d be the one getting texts and rushed phone calls about me working until midnight.
We’d had our only real fight the first time he left Vegas for a business trip. He’d wanted me to join him. I said no. If I hadn’t had my job, I would have loved to fly East to meet his brother and cousin. But I had clients and responsibilities. I couldn’t just skip town in the middle of the week.
Dylan had given in eventually. I think it helped that things were better at work. I suspected either Dylan had gone behind my back and spoken to my slimy boss, or my boss had found out who I was living with. Either way, he’d been keeping his distance and treating me with cautious respect. He also sucked at his job and the higher-ups had noticed. I suspected he’d be replaced any day now.
I felt Dylan at my back before I saw him. His arms came around me from behind, pulling me back into his chest as his head dropped beside mine. He kissed the shell of my ear and whispered,
“Sorry I’m late.”
“It’s okay,” I said, turning my head so I could press my lips to his. “I haven’t been here long. Just sitting here thinking.”
“Hmm? Remembering the night we met? How I lured you up to my office and took shameless advantage of you?”
He winked at me, giving me an exaggerated lear so unlike his normal, seductive smile that I burst out laughing.
“If your game had been that bad,” I said, “You never would have gotten me off this stool.”
“It’s a good thing I knew exactly what to say to get you alone.”
That was the understatement of the century. What if I had said no to him then? I would have missed so much. Watching him as he took the stool beside me, wearing a well cut gray suit, his dark hair sexily mussed from the long day, I knew there was no way I would have told him no.
I’d had my stupid moments. The whole d
ebacle with Steven case in point. But even at my worst, I never would have been foolish enough to turn Dylan down. And that was without knowing what a good man he was. How sweet. How unbelievably hot in bed. And how loyal. How loving.
I waited for Dylan to order a drink, but he gave a dismissive signal to the bartender standing at alert a few feet away. The bartender left to polish glass on the far side of the room and I looked at Dylan in confusion. We didn’t usually hang out in bars unless it was part of an event for Dylan’s work. So I was a little curious as to why Dylan had asked me to meet him here, in the bar where we’d met, and yet still hadn’t ordered a drink.
Clearing his throat, he said, “You’re probably wondering why I asked you to meet me here instead of my office.”
He sounded nervous, completely unlike himself. I realized with a jolt that I’d never seen Dylan nervous. I straightened on my stool, my appletini forgotten, alert to what might be going on. I had no clue. Trying to hide my confusion, I said,
“The thought crossed my mind.”
He reached out and took my hand in his, his green eyes locking on mine. “I saw you that night sitting here, and I knew you were someone special. I only talked to you for a few minutes before I had to have you in my bed. What I didn’t know was how quickly I’d fall in love with you. And how certain I’d be that you’re the only woman I’ll ever want.”
Releasing my hand, he drew something from his pocket. My heart stuttered in my chest, and my brain froze. My eyes must have widened comically when I saw the black velvet box in his hand because he smiled and said,
“Will you?”
“Ask me the right way,” I said through a tight throat, too nervous to assume he was asking what I hoped he was asking.
Standing, he tugged me off the stool, then dropped to one knee before me. Taking my left hand in his, he said,
“Leigh Carmichael, you’re the only woman I’ve ever loved. I want to make a life with you, have children with you, and grow old with you. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. Will you be my wife?”