“That’s not him! I’m telling you.”
“No, what you’re telling me is you go for guys who are thirty years older than you. Gold digger.”
I laughed harder and reached for my phone on the table.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m looking it up, I’m going to prove you wrong!”
Coen grabbed my phone from me and held it out of my reach.
“Give it back! Or are you worried you’re going to be wrong?”
“No. Fuck no. I know that’s him, I’m just thinking about you and your reaction when you realize that Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles was made twenty years ago.”
I stopped reaching and cocked my head to the side. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, Duchess.”
My eyes narrowed on him. “I hate that name.”
“And you wonder why I keep calling you it.”
“Asshole,” I growled as I reached over to make another grab for my phone.
His arm kept it just out of reach, so I rolled to my knees and leaned over him, stretching my arm as he stretched his body away from me. One of his hands had gone to my waist to keep me from moving, but the air around us seemed to change at the same time his fingers flexed against me.
Forgetting my phone, I looked down at Coen to see him staring at me. His face no longer looked amused, he almost looked mad. But that look had my body heating, and my breaths getting heavy.
“Reagan”—he cleared his throat—“I need you to get off me before I do something you’re not going to like.”
Lean back. Lean back. Get off him. I didn’t move, I stayed right there, staring at his dark eyes before mine involuntarily dropped to his mouth.
“Reagan,” he said in warning.
Lean back. For the love of God, lean back. “How do you know I won’t like it?” I found myself asking, and before I had time to try to take it back, Coen let my phone fall to the ground and grabbed the back of my neck to bring my face down to his.
Coen’s lips captured mine on a growl, and my body shivered against him as I let myself rest on his chest. His tongue prompted my lips to part, and I gripped at his shirt when he started teasing me with slow strokes of his tongue, and soft bites against my bottom lip.
Without ever letting his lips leave mine, he pushed me back until our positions were switched. My back to the couch, with him on top of me. His lips moved to my neck, and I rolled my head back, giving him more access. I didn’t want a man in my life, and had been fine without one ever since Austin. But since I’d run into him a week ago, something about Coen and his dark eyes had left me craving him. A craving I’d tried to ignore. But now, with some of his body weight pressing me into the couch, one hand in my hair, and the other keeping himself somewhat propped up; I not only couldn’t ignore it, I didn’t want him to ever stop touching me.
I knew this was dangerous ground. I knew he had the potential of shattering me. I knew this was going too fast . . . but I wanted more. My hands trailed down his chest, and when they kept going down, he pushed himself up to give me room. Grabbing the bottom of his shirt, I slowly pulled it up until he sat back on his knees and took it the rest of the way off before lowering himself again.
The muscles in his stomach contracted when I ran my hands back up to his chest, over his shoulders and down his tattooed arms. Turning my head, I pressed a kiss to his arm, before moving to his chest and kissing the words there. He tugged on my hair so my head would fall back again, and just before his lips touched mine, my phone started ringing.
“Ignore it,” I whispered, and captured his mouth.
His hand left my hair, and trailed down my upper body, his fingers barely grazing the swell of my breast as he did. As soon as his hand started running back up, now on my bare skin, my phone rang again. I arched my back when his fingers touched the lace of my bra . . . and then it hit me.
“Parker!” I shouted, and started to push Coen away, but he was already off the couch and grabbing my phone to hand to me. “Hello?” I said breathlessly into the phone.
“Mommy?”
My heart broke when I recognized his sobs. “Oh God, what’s wrong?”
“Can you come get me?”
“Of course I can, baby. Are you okay?”
“Yeah—I just—can I come home?”
I righted my shirt and started to stand, but Coen pushed me back onto the couch. I shot him a look, but his expression was calm and understanding, and a sense of peace washed over me at I looked into his dark eyes.
“Of course,” I repeated into the phone. “Let me talk to Jason’s mom, okay?”
The sound of the phone being shuffled between hands filled the other end of the line before I heard, “Hey, Reagan, he’s fine. He just woke up crying and said he wanted to go home. I’m so sorry, they had so much fun tonight, it must just be because this is so different.”
I sighed in relief that nothing had happened to him. “No, no, don’t be sorry. It’s more than fine, I’m on my way right now. Thank you for calling me.” When we hung up, I looked back into Coen’s eyes. “Could you hear?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I’m sorry for stopping you, but I couldn’t let you run out of here when you were on the edge of freaking out.”
“I know, and I appreciate it.” My eyes moved over his face for a few seconds before I stood. “I have to go.”
Coen stood and walked me to the door, and when I turned to say good-bye, I saw the concern in his eyes. He was afraid I would regret what had just been happening. Grabbing the handle of the door, he opened it and stepped back, his eyes never leaving mine. “Drive safe, it’s late and—just drive safe.”
I wanted to regret it. I wanted to tell him I couldn’t see him again. Having Parker call while I’d been kissing Coen made me want to keep him from Parker’s life and mine all over again.
Want to. That didn’t mean I could.
Bringing one hand around his neck, I stood on my toes and softly pressed my lips to his. The arm not holding the door wrapped around my waist to pull me closer as he deepened the kiss for a few seconds before releasing me.
“Good night,” I whispered against his lips, and kissed him one last time when they curled up in a smile.
“Night.”
I walked quickly to my car, and thanked God that Coen lived closer to Jason’s than I did.
After picking up my still-crying son, I drove us home and got him into his own bed once he’d calmed down. When I was sure he was asleep, I closed his door behind me and went to make sure the apartment was locked up, and all the lights were shut off.
Grabbing my phone after I got ready to go to sleep and had climbed into my bed, I pulled up Coen’s name.
We made it home . . . you know . . . even though it’s late and all ;)
Instead of a response, his name popped up on my screen, and I hit the green button.
“Hello,” I answered quietly.
“I’m glad you made it back.”
A smile crossed my face and I grabbed at the ends of my hair. “Sorry we had to cut the night short.”
He was silent for a few seconds before saying, “Just tell me that won’t be the last time I see you.”
“As long as it’s not a date,” I teased.
“Never. I was thinking more of a distraction.”
“I like distractions.”
“So do I.” His gruff tone had my eyes shutting and a shiver running down my body. “Get some sleep.”
“You too.”
“Good night, Reagan.”
I hung up, and placed my phone on the nightstand. Just as I got comfortable in my bed, my phone vibrated.
Pulling up the text from Coen, I laughed out loud when I saw the three images. One was a screenshot of the cast of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles; right in the center was the man who played Casey.
The second was of him now. The third was a list of his movies, and right there was the title Shutter Island.
I’m going to act like I never saw that. He’s still Casey in my head.
Coen Steele: Denial is a bitch.
Putting my phone back on the nightstand. I closed my eyes and went to sleep with a smile on my face.
Chapter Four
Coen—August 25, 2010
“CHIN DOWN JUST a little bit more. Eyes right at me. Mouth a little softer . . . perf—”
“Damn, Steele!”
I straightened from the position I’d been in and turned, my mouth already curving up in a smile.
“If this is what you do all day, no wonder you wanted to get out so bad.”
Slapping Hudson’s hand when he approached me, I just shrugged. “Well, seeing how it’s a Wednesday night and you’re not on base . . . I can only guess that means one of two things.”
He held his hands out to the side and smirked. “Civilian status, bitch!”
“Really, man? Congrats. Let’s go grab a drink when I’m done, we only have a few more minutes.”
Hudson flopped down into a chair and grinned. “Don’t let me stop you.”
I rolled my eyes and turned back to my client. She was already only covered by her underwear and an unbuttoned shirt, but now with Hudson sitting next to me, her eyes were glued to him and she was pulling her unbuttoned shirt wider.
“Eyes back on me,” I said for the third time since he’d come in. “Stop biting on your lip. Stop eye-fucking Hudson. He’s taken.”
Standing, I glared over at Hudson and kicked his leg as I pointed to the door. “Get the fuck out.”
“Hater,” he mumbled as he stood and left the studio.
Looking back at my client, I raised an eyebrow at her. It wasn’t my place to remind her she was doing this shoot for her husband. “All right, you ready for the ones on the couch?”
After we were done with the shoot and she was fully dressed again, I yelled out for Hudson as I flipped through the pictures I’d gotten.
“We got a ton of great shots,” I told her as I continued to look through my camera. “I’ll work on these and send you the best in a few days, all right?”
“Perfect! Thank you so much for this, I hope he likes them.” She straightened up when Hudson came closer to us, and I stopped going through the pictures to watch them.
“Taken.” I reminded her when she gave Hudson a look I knew Erica would kill her for.
“Right. Well, you both have a good night.”
As soon as she was gone, I pointed at the door and glared at Hudson. “Married.”
“Eh.” He made a face like that fact had just made her lose all appeal.
“Exactly.”
“It’s not my fault they want this.” He said seriously and waved a hand down his body before busting up laughing.
“I don’t know how Erica puts up with you.” I turned and put my camera away before going to turn everything off.
“You know I wouldn’t do anything.”
“Yeah, and you and I both know she wants to chop your dick off every time you look at another girl. I fear for your life the day she sees you hitting on another chick.”
He sighed. “I don’t hit on them. Did you hear me trying to pick up on that girl at all? No. And she was asking for it. They want to look at me, I’m not going to stop them.”
I snorted. “All right. If that’s how you see it. Just ask Erica to give me time to get there to save your sorry ass before she decides to kill you one of these days. Come on, let’s go grab a beer.”
“Uh, actually . . . meeting up with my family at a restaurant tonight, but I stopped by because I wanted you to come. We haven’t talked much since you got out, and I figured after dinner we could chill and catch up.”
“Your family?” I stopped walking.
“Yeah. Knowing you, I bet you don’t leave your studio or condo except to get from one to the other. You’re probably eating nothing but ramen noodles. You probably only talk to the people whose photos you’re taking. And I just know you’re not sleeping. So I want you to come have actual food. Talk to people about other things . . . you know, normal night out.”
“Uh . . .” I still hadn’t moved from my spot. It’d been five days since Reagan came to my apartment. We’d talked every day, but I hadn’t seen her again since. “Is your sister going to be there?”
“Obviously.” Hudson shot me a weird look before understanding crossed over his face. “Swear to God, she won’t freak out on you or me this time. I’ll have you two sit at opposite ends of the table if it’ll be better.”
Which means she hadn’t told Hudson. Or her parents probably. And I wasn’t about to tell Hudson that his little sister had spent most of last Friday night in my apartment. Which made this even more awkward. “Yeah, maybe I shouldn’t go.”
“No, dude, I want you there. Erica hasn’t seen you in a couple weeks either and she’ll be there. Come on.”
With a defeated sigh, I shook my head and started walking out of my studio again. “All right. Let’s go.”
Reagan—August 25, 2010
I PULLED BACK from hugging Erica and looked behind her, my eyebrows pinching together in confusion. “Is Keegan not with you?”
“No, he came in a couple hours ago to hang out at his friend’s studio before dinner. So he’s meeting us here.”
My eyes widened, and I was glad Erica had turned to hug my mom so she wouldn’t notice my expression. I didn’t doubt she’d left Coen’s name out because of the way I’d reacted at lunch a couple weeks ago, and there was no way she could’ve known that I knew about Coen’s studio. Because she didn’t know about us hanging out.
No one did.
Keegan wouldn’t bring Coen with him, would he?
Of all the days for Parker to lose my phone in the apartment while it was on silent . . . why today?
“Mom, you okay?”
I looked down at Parker and plastered a smile on my face. “Of course I am. Why?”
He studied me for a second. I swear . . . six going on twenty. “You look scared.”
“I’m not scared, honey. Are you excited to see—”
“Uncle Keegan!” he shouted, and darted past me.
He won’t be here. He won’t be here.
“Duchess.”
Fuck, he’s here.
I turned and couldn’t figure out if I wanted to step away from him so no one would notice how badly I was craving him, or if I wanted to close the distance between us so I could feel the man whose warm voice had been the last thing to fill my world before I’d fallen asleep the last five nights.
“Have you not been getting my texts?” he asked hesitantly. “I tried warning you that I was coming.”
“Parker lost my phone in the apartment.”
I was losing the fight in staying away from him. My body was slowly inching closer to him, and it physically ached to keep my arms at my side instead of wrapping them around his waist.
How had this happened? Friday had been . . . well, it hadn’t been what I’d expected it to be when I’d gone over there. I hadn’t been expecting our kisses. I hadn’t been expecting to get so lost in him that I wouldn’t want to leave. But what I really hadn’t expected was for this arrogant man to somehow creep his way into my life to the point where I woke up excited for my morning texts from him. Or how I couldn’t wait for Parker to go to sleep at night because I knew I’d get to talk to Coen until I fell asleep.
“I know your brother doesn’t know . . . do your parents?”
“No,” I mouthed, and hated the flash of disappointment in his eyes.
“Hey!”
Coen and I moved away from each other and looked down at Parker.
“You’re the guy from the park with
the cool arms!”
Coen’s face easily morphed into a smile as he held up his hand for Parker to slap. I was still as stone as everyone in my family and Erica eyed me curiously.
“How’re you doing, bud?” Coen asked, and bent down so he was closer to Parker’s height.
“Good. I’m still not old enough, you know.” He tapped Coen’s arm. “Mine would still wash off.”
Coen laughed and nodded before glancing at me. “Yeah, you’ve got a while for that one.”
I tried to smile at them. But my parents and Erica were still watching me. Keegan was now watching Coen and Parker. All of them looked confused.
“What’s your name?”
“Coen.”
Parker nodded. “That’s right. Because you’re Uncle Keegan’s friend.” Coen started responding when Parker added, “But you’re Mom’s friend too because you come see her at the park.”
Oh. Jesus. Christ.
Coen looked up at me with a questioning look that was borderline challenging. I just stared back at him, not knowing what to say or what to do since everyone was still watching both of us.
Looking back at Parker, Coen smiled. “Yeah, bud, you could say that.”
Erica looked confused, Keegan was glaring at Coen, Dad was now sizing up Coen, and Mom was staring at me with eyebrows practically up to her hairline.
“Your table is ready, if you all want to follow me this way!”
It took a few seconds for any of us to move, and even then, it was Parker who broke the spell we all seemed to be under. “Coen, sit next to me!”
Turning to follow him, I hadn’t walked two steps before Coen walked past me and whispered in my ear, “That is, unless his mom is embarrassed for her family to know about me.”
“Coen,” I protested, but didn’t say anything else as he caught up to Parker and the seating hostess.
“Am I missing something?” Keegan asked as we walked toward the table.
“Uh . . .”
“Because the last time the two of you saw each other, you got really pissed off and stormed out of the restaurant. Right?”
“Not exactly.” I don’t know why I felt like I was going to die. Keegan had tried setting us up, for shit’s sake, he’d given me Coen’s number!
Capturing Peace Page 5