by Lexi Ryan
With that, he climbs out of the car. Well, damn.
Mutely, I follow him up the steps and slip in front of him to unlock the door.
“Auntie Elle!” a tiny voice shouts before I can push the door open. The greeting is followed by another voice shouting, “Auntie! Auntie! Auntie!”
My adorable little nieces toddle through the living room in their PJs and wrap themselves around my legs. Laughing, I sink to the floor and let them climb onto my lap, my eyes filling with tears. I used to think that phrase “light of my life” was so trite and meaningless, but Sophie and Josie and their half-brother, Collin, are that for me. They’re the light when the world gets too dark and heavy. They’re everything that is good and hopeful, and any time I feel down, just looking at their faces shows me the path from the darkness.
And clearly I’ve had an emotional weekend, because seeing these doll faces shouldn’t make me get quite so dramatic.
“Auntie cry!” Sophie wipes a tear from my cheek and presses a kiss to the wet spot.
“I’m just so happy to see you,” I whisper, looking up to see my brother, his arms wrapped around his beautiful wife as they watch their precious girls snuggle into me.
“We wanted to surprise you,” Hanna says, her eyes cutting to Cade. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“’Prise!” Josie says. “’Prise, Auntie!”
Somewhere in the mix, Cade moved to the back of the foyer, and now he stands in the shadows like the bodyguard he’s determined to be.
“Cade,” Nate says, with a nod in his direction. There’s a tightness to my brother’s jaw. He always liked Cade before, but apparently that’s changed. Completely your fault, Janelle. If I’d been honest with Nate from the beginning, he’d see Cade for the saint he is.
“Nate,” Cade says in return.
“When did you get in?” I ask to fill the silence. My real question is, When are you leaving? My whole purpose for staying in LA was to keep this psycho as far as I can from Nate and his family. But since my father left this house to Nate, not me, I don’t exactly have the right to ask them to leave.
“Maybe half an hour ago?” Hanna says. “It’s past the girls’ bedtime—even in this time zone—but I promised they could stay up for one hug before going to sleep. Get your hugs, girls. It’s bedtime!”
There’s a brief chorus of whining as the girls wrap their arms around my neck one last time, but their protests are short-lived, and they take their mom’s hand and follow her up to bed.
“I’d love a beer,” Nate says, turning to me. “You up for a drink?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll be right back down.” Hanna gives a pointed look to her husband. “One drink and then we should be getting to bed too.” Clearing her throat, she gives a not-so-subtle head tilt in the direction of me and Cade. “Bad enough to show up unannounced.”
She heads up the stairs, and Nate, Cade, and I head into the kitchen. I open the fridge and am grateful Jamaal insisted on stocking it before we arrived. That man always proves useful for more than his intimidating demeanor.
I grab a couple of beers for the guys and a bottle of wine for myself. I get to work on the cork while Cade starts opening cabinets to find a glass.
“Glad to see you’re making yourself at home,” Nate says, and I’m not sure if he’s being begrudgingly sincere or sarcastic. Judging by the tension in Cade’s shoulders, he’s not sure either.
“The glasses are in the far right cabinet,” I tell Cade, pointing.
“Will Hanna want anything?” Cade asks.
“She’s pregnant,” Nate says with a completely unnecessary scowl.
“He meant water or something.” Joining my brother at the center island, I give him a hard elbow nudge and my best stop being a dick glare.
He draws in a breath and says, “Milk. When she’s growing my babies, she likes milk before bed.”
“Please and thank you,” Hanna says, joining us in the kitchen. “Nate, quit scowling at Cade.”
“I’m the brother,” he grumbles. “Scowling is my job.”
Hanna rolls her eyes then redirects her focus on us. “Sorry for showing up unannounced. Nate saw the story about this Daisy Stalker online and insisted on seeing for himself that you are okay.”
“I’m fine. See? Still in one piece.” I hold out my arms and glance down at my body.
“I don’t like any of this,” Nate says. “How long has this asshole been sending you letters?”
“I’ve been getting them for a few weeks. Everything just kind of came to a head when I got back to LA.”
My brother looks at Cade. “Is this guy dangerous?”
Cade pours a glass of milk and hands it to Hanna. “I believe he is,” he says. “We honestly don’t know much. He’s covered his tracks almost too perfectly. In every way except . . .”
“Except what?” Hanna asks.
Cade takes a deep breath and studies me. I can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s not sure how much he should say.
“You can say anything in front of Nate and Hanna that you’d say to me,” I say.
“We have a couple leads we’re working with now,” he says carefully. He’s obviously trying to frame this in the most optimistic light possible. “The flower shops, for starters.”
“You said he’s covered his tracks perfectly except,” I say. “What’s the except?”
He drags a hand over his face, and my stomach sinks. “Courtney’s exam. There were traces of semen.”
“She was raped,” Hanna says. Her face is sheet white, and she presses her free hand to her stomach as if to protect the child growing there.
Cade watches his beer as he rolls it between his hands, his jaw tight. He doesn’t want to talk about this, but he’s doing it for me. “We’re running the results of the sample through the offender database. If we’re lucky, we’ll find a match.”
“And if there’s no match?” Hanna asks. “If this guy hasn’t ever been caught before?”
Cade lifts his eyes to mine, and I know without him saying that he’s not optimistic. “He’s escalating, and we’re watching. The police have guys on every angle of this case.”
Nate, who’s been ominously silent until now, turns to me. “I want you to come back to New Hope.”
I fold my arms. “No.”
“You’re being stubborn and ridiculous,” Nate says. “I only want you safe, and I can’t believe we’re even having this conversation.”
Cade grunts. “Welcome to my day.”
“It’s safer at home,” Hanna says.
I lift my chin. “But it’s not my home. I’m staying here. And until this guy is caught, I’d prefer those precious girls to be as far away from me as possible.” Hurt flashes over Hanna’s face, so I sigh and squeeze her hand. “Try not to worry. Cade’s agreed to stay. He’s taking good care of me.”
Nate grunts. “Yeah, I’ve seen the pictures.” He narrows his eyes at Cade. “How are you going to see the bad guy coming if you’re too busy groping my sister?”
“Nate!” I screech, and at the same time, Hanna smacks him in the arm. When I straddled Cade and stuck my tongue down his throat while the photographers flashed their cameras, I hadn’t been thinking of what my brother would think of Cade touching me like that. Or how he’d feel about said touching once I told him about how this mess all started.
In fact, I’d intended on telling Nate the truth the next time I saw him in person, but it might be easier for Nate to leave me in Cade’s protection if he continues to believe the story we’re selling.
Cade responds before I can. “We’re hoping we can have a break from the cameras while we’re staying here. It will be good to have a few days of privacy.”
I study him for a long, stuttering beat of my heart while I try to figure out if he means that. At no point today has my brain ventured far from his words at the hotel, and I circle back to them now.
“Touching you was only a mistake because it makes not touching you th
at much harder.”
I’ve dissected that sentence and analyzed it from every angle, never sure what to make of it, never sure what I should expect from him while we’re here. Then he said something similar before we got out of the car.
“When I kiss your mouth, I like it. Then I remember how much I like kissing you in other places.”
In other words, he still wants me, but he doesn’t plan on doing anything about it. As frustrating as that thought is, thinking about Cade wanting me—despite everything—makes the butterflies in my belly do a victory cheer.
Hanna clears her throat. “Come on, Nate. Let’s give the lovebirds some of that privacy they’re looking for.” She grabs him by the wrist and tugs him toward her.
Nate gives me a pointed look. “We’re not done talking about this.”
“Good night,” I say, and Hanna winks at me. God, I love that woman. She’s the best thing that ever happened to my brother, and the best sister-in-law I could ask for.
Cade clears his throat. “I’ll, uh, take our bags upstairs.”
Oh, shit. Sleeping arrangements just got a little more interesting. “My room is at the top of the stairs and to the right.” Our gazes lock for a beat before he nods and follows Hanna and Nate out of the kitchen.
I’m left alone with my thoughts and an untouched glass of wine. I try to wrap my mind around the new information about Courtney’s exam, but I can’t quite get it to sink in.
There’s a rapist after me.
It’s too surreal to process. I’m freaked out, yes, but not as much as I know I should be. This is something that happens to people in movies, not a trio of washed-up actresses, years out of the only roles anyone ever cared about.
I drain my glass and set it on the counter. I’m a few steps toward the stairs when I reconsider and go back for my glass and a bottle of wine. If I’m going to spend the night sharing a room with Cade and he’s going to insist on keeping his distance, I’m going to need this.
When I get to my bedroom, Cade is sitting in one of the chairs, dressed in a pair of soft cotton pants and nothing else. His feet are propped on the ottoman and he’s reading some action-packed thriller.
Sexy man. Bare chest. Book.
Damn.
“Hey,” I whisper, closing the door behind me and refilling my glass of wine.
He marks his place and puts his book to the side. “Hey. I figured you’d want me to sleep in here. On the other hand, your brother kept looking at me like he wanted to cut my balls off, so maybe I’d be better off in the guest bedroom.”
“I planned on telling him everything,” I say. In two swigs, my glass is half empty again. Maybe it’s not healthy to use alcohol as a coping mechanism for stress, but being healthy is the least of my worries at the moment.
Cade frowns. “About us?”
“I would have clued him in from the beginning if Matthew hadn’t been so insistent. I don’t keep secrets from my brother. At this point, I don’t care what Matthew thinks or says. But then Nate started talking about getting me back to New Hope, and I decided he might be more comfortable with the lie.” I bite my lip. “I don’t know. Hanna’s probably planning our wedding, so telling them sooner rather than later could do some damage control.”
“It’s up to you,” he says.
I can’t tear my eyes from where he’s absently scratching his chest. I want my hands there. My mouth. I want to sleep wrapped in the safe heat of his muscles.
I drain my glass in an attempt to distract myself, but the wine seems to make the situation worse. Heat spreads through my belly and flips a switch that makes my hormones sing.
“But I’m guessing your brother knows you well enough to guess at the truth.”
Those words tear me away from my man-chest ogling. “Excuse me?”
“You seem close,” he says. “That’s all.”
“You’re saying my brother knows me well enough to know a guy like you wouldn’t want anything to do with someone like me?”
Arching a brow, he pushes himself out of his chair and crosses the room to stand in front of me. He takes the bottle of wine and my empty glass from my hands and sets them on the dresser, then he turns to study me. “I’m such an asshole,” he mutters. Reaching out, he touches my shoulder and then drops his hand.
“But it’s true,” I whisper, hating the crack in my voice. “You wouldn’t want to be with someone like me if we hadn’t been thrown together out of necessity.”
“I’m an asshole,” he repeats, “but I’m not such an asshole that I can’t admit when I was wrong, and I was wrong about you.”
“Are you sure? I’m an actress. And we both know I’m not above lying to get my way.” I’m not proud that I hired Matt, but somehow owning up to it makes me feel a little less shitty.
“I’m sure. It’s been clear since I first arrived in LA and saw you at the precinct. I was watching on the other side of the glass while Tom talked to you, and I knew then . . .” He shifts awkwardly, then looks away. “I wish I could go back to the morning the pictures of us were first published. I said some terrible things.”
“It looked bad,” I say. “You had every reason to be angry.”
“But you stand there thinking that a guy like me wouldn’t want to be with a girl like you.” He takes my hand, opens my fingers, and presses my palm flat to his bare chest. “Any guy—like me or way more fucking worthy than me—wouldn’t just want you, sweetheart. He’d be lucky as fuck to have a chance.”
My heart hammers wildly, and I’m thinking this would be the perfect moment for him to carry me to the bed, undress me, and make use of the condoms in the nightstand. Instead, he kisses my knuckles and releases my hand.
“I’ll take the floor,” he says. “I can sleep anywhere.”
Chapter 13
Cade
While Janelle excuses herself to the attached bathroom to do whatever it is that women take so long to do before they can sleep, I find a spare comforter in the closet and use it to create a makeshift bed for myself.
Even though I knew days ago that I’d been wrong about Janelle, she still manages to surprise me. The way she collapsed onto the floor tonight so her nieces could climb on her lap—it tugged at something in my gut and didn’t let go. Physical attraction is one thing, but I fucking like this woman. I like the way she laughs. The way little girl hugs can make her cry. The way she assumes the best about people, and the way she cares about her family.
I know she’s going through a lot right now, and I know I’ve been a world-class dick through more of it than is fair. The least I can do is be honest with her. Do I wish she’d go back to Indiana? Yes. Do I wish she’d slammed the door in Tom’s face this morning? Abso-fucking-lutely. But she shouldn’t have to walk around thinking less of herself just because I’m frustrated that I can’t have her.
I steal a pillow from the many piled up on her bed and toss it with my blankets on the floor. Then she walks out of the bathroom, and I nearly swallow my tongue.
She’s dressed in tiny cotton shorts that show every inch of her long legs, and I can see the outline of her breasts through her thin tank top.
She looks from my blankets on the floor and back to me. “You’re sure?”
I nod. “It’s not a problem.”
Her lips part, and she blows out a soft breath. Fuck, but I want to see her do that while I’m over her. While I’m inside her. I want to breathe her moans and taste her cries of pleasure.
“Okay,” she says. “So . . . good night, I guess.”
“Good night.”
She climbs under the covers and waits for me to settle into my blankets before she shuts off the lights. The silence is thick and loaded with tension. Neither of us is ready for sleep.
“Are you ever going to tell me?” she asks after several minutes.
“Tell you what?” We should both be exhausted and falling asleep after the last few days, but sleeping down here with her so close will be easier said than done.
“Wh
at happened in your past that made you want to come here and protect me even when you thought the worst about me?”
I sigh heavily and roll to my side so I’m facing the bed. I don’t like to dwell on my mistakes, but I find that I want to tell her this. “It was after I proposed to Cara and found out about Matt. I can’t really explain what that time was like for me.” I shake my head. “Never mind that. I’m glad I can’t. I wouldn't want you to know how pathetic I was.”
“She broke your trust,” Janelle says softly.
“Yeah. For starters. I’d lived with her for months and thought what we had was real.” Janelle shifts under the covers and I wish I were up there with her. I wish I could make out her features while still having the security of the darkness concealing mine.
“Maybe it was real,” she says. “Just because it started as something else doesn’t mean she didn’t develop feelings for you along the way.”
I follow her silhouette through the darkness as she reaches her hand off the side of the bed, searching for mine. Our fingertips graze.
“You’re a catch, Officer Watts. Even the coldest heart could find herself falling for you.”
And what about you? Are you falling for me? “Maybe, but in the end she didn’t want to be with me. And it hurt my pride to know I’d been so thoroughly played.”
Her fingers squeeze mine. “It hurt more than your pride.”
“Yeah,” I admit. This is easier than I’d have expected, opening up to her about something I’ve always considered my biggest embarrassment. “So I moved out, and in my anger I told her I was going to give interviews to all the journalists who wanted to know the details. I was going to let the world know who she really was—how shallow and manipulative she could be to get her way. I knew even when I said it that I’d never do that. Why would I want the whole world to know I was such a fool? What kind of man goes to bed with a woman every night, buys her a fucking engagement ring, and doesn't know she has no real attachment to him? But I threatened because I wanted to hurt her like she hurt me.” I draw in a long breath, but my heart races like it happened yesterday. “She begged me not to give the interview. For a couple weeks, she’d leave me messages saying that she did have feelings for me but she wasn’t sure what to do with them, that maybe we could work it out. More ploys. More efforts to manipulate me.”