Just like he wouldn’t let his siblings in. Wouldn’t let them close.
“You can’t stay here,” he said, grabbing some of her clothing off the floor. “You can stay at Nathan’s.” If she was living in the same house, he’d have a better chance of protecting her.
“I can’t just leave this mess,” she said. “I have to clean it up.” But she glanced around as if she had no idea where to start.
“There are companies that can do that. You can hire one of them.”
“I can’t afford that. I’ll clean it myself.”
“And where will you sleep in the meantime?”
She looked at the bed, then quickly turned away. “The couch,” she muttered.
“No. Come with me to Nathan’s.”
“What about Cat?”
“He can come, too.” For an animal she claimed she didn’t care about, she’d been awfully upset when she thought he might have been killed. “Nathan always wanted a cat when we were kids.” He was making that up, but he needed to get her out of this apartment. Away from the memories and the fear that still had her face drawn and her eyes shuttered.
“Come on, Darcy.” He smoothed his hand over her hair. “Throw some stuff in a bag, and let’s get out of here. I’ll make some calls, get somebody out here to deal with the mess. When you come back, it will look like nothing happened.”
“I’ll know something happened,” she said quietly.
“Yeah, you will. But if it looks normal, you’ll feel a lot better.”
She turned and surveyed the room. “I don’t know if I can ever live here again. It feels like I’ve been violated.”
“You have been. But let’s get the place cleaned up before you make a decision.”
Staying a careful distance from the damaged mattress, she bent and petted the cat. “You’re sure it’s okay if Cat comes with me?”
“Of course it is.”
“Okay.” She straightened. Glanced around the room again. “Thanks. I’ll feel safe staying with you and Nathan.”
Thank God. “Great. How can I help you get ready?”
“Just stay here with me. I don’t want to be alone.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
As he watched her pick through the destroyed clothes and crushed jewelry, he curled his fingers into fists. He’d like to use her ex for boxing practice. A cop.
No wonder she hadn’t wanted anything to do with Patrick when he showed up at Mama’s.
But she’d told him her ex was a cop, and that she was using a fake identity. That she’d made a huge mistake. That was the first step. Eventually, she’d tell him the rest.
And when she did, he’d track the guy down and beat the shit out of him.
Feeling much better than when she’d called him, he pushed away from the wall. “Do you have some kind of carrier for Cat?”
She looked up from the floor where she was untangling jewelry. “In the living room closet.” She studied him for a moment. “For a guy helping his...helping someone with her trashed house, you look pretty cheerful.”
“You’re coming home with me. That’s huge.” He squatted down in front of her. “And you’re not just ‘someone.’ You’re important. You matter to me, Darcy.”
Her lips trembled. “You matter to me, too, Patrick. Thank you for coming when I called.”
“Always.” He leaned forward and kissed her, and her mouth softened beneath his. Before it could go any further, he pulled away. They weren’t going to do anything in this wreck of her house.
A half hour later, he held her hand as they walked into Nathan’s. She’d stopped and told her landlord what had happened. He had just returned from his volunteer job at a local hospital, and he’d been horrified. Worried. But when she told him she was staying with a friend, he calmed down.
Nathan was parked at the dining room table, working on his laptop. When he heard the door, he turned. “Hey, Paddy.”
His brother looked more relaxed than he’d been since Patrick arrived from Detroit. “Hey, Nate. Darcy’s with me.”
“Great.” He actually smiled at Darcy when she stepped into view. Nathan’s gaze lingered on their joined hands, and Darcy tried to let go. Patrick held on more tightly.
“How’s it going, Darce?” Nathan asked.
Her eyes darkened and she untangled her hand from Patrick’s. “Not so great.”
“What’s wrong?” Nathan swung the wheelchair around and headed toward her. “What happened?”
“Someone broke into her apartment and trashed it. She needs a place to stay for a few nights. I didn’t think you’d mind if I brought her here.”
“Of course not.” Nathan didn’t even look at Patrick. Instead, he pulled Darcy down into a fierce hug. “What can I do?” he murmured.
She sniffled on his shoulder, and Patrick was glad she’d ended up at Mama’s. Glad she’d had someone like Nathan to lean on.
“Letting me stay here is huge,” she said, finally straightening. “And putting up with Cat.”
“You’ve got a cat?” Nathan bent his head to look into the carrier. “Cute. What’s his name?”
Darcy reddened. “Cat.”
“Makes it simple, I guess.” Nathan switched his gaze to Patrick. “Why don’t you find a room for Darcy?” he said. “You’ll have to leave for Mama’s soon.”
God. He’d forgotten all about the restaurant. “Do you need the night off, Darcy?” he asked. “I can call another waitress to fill in for you.”
“I’d rather work. I’d rather keep busy.”
He wanted her at Mama’s, as well. Close by. “Good.” He picked up her duffel bag. “Let’s get you settled in.”
* * *
AS DARCY WALKED out the back door of Mama’s late that night, she stayed in front of Patrick as she scrutinized every car in the lot. After she identified all of them as employees’ cars, she waited for him to catch up to her. He unlocked his SUV, helped her into the front seat and took his gun from the glove compartment.
“Stay in the car while I look around,” he said. He didn’t wait for her to answer before closing and locking the door.
She watched him poke through the bristling lilac bushes, check the front of the restaurant. When he was satisfied, he swung into the driver’s seat.
“I didn’t see anything,” he said. “I think we’re good.”
But he checked his rearview mirror every few seconds as they drove to Nathan’s. Darcy kept her gaze on the side mirror, watching for the flash of headlights behind them. She saw nothing. No one followed them.
As Patrick parked at the curb, she relaxed her shoulders and felt some of the tightness drain from her muscles. She’d been ready to face Tim, she realized. She’d expected him to try something.
Patrick stood at her door, staring at the houses flanking Nathan’s. Then he studied the houses on the opposite side of the street. After a very long minute, he opened her door.
Adrenaline drained away like air from a balloon. She slid out of the vehicle, stumbling as she stepped onto the ground. Patrick wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and the cold air slapped her face.
“Long night,” he murmured as he led her toward the front door.
“Yeah.” She’d been on edge the whole time she worked, and that had been foolish. Fear had muddled her brain. Tim wouldn’t confront her in a restaurant full of people. Just like every other bully, he’d wait until the odds were in his favor. “You expected someone to be waiting here.”
“It wouldn’t have surprised me,” he said as they entered the darkened house. “It’s what I would have done. Stay away from the place they expected me to be. Surprise them after they’ve relaxed.” He held her gaze. “If it was your ex, that’s what he’d do. Cops usually think alike.”
�
��I don’t know how he could have found me.” She should have used Google to search for her name as soon as she suspected he had, seen if there was anything that could betray her. But she’d stuck her head in the sand. Told herself she was safe.
She wasn’t safe anymore. Now, she had to leave.
“If he was a cop, he’d have resources.”
They’d both been speaking in whispers. The house was quiet, the only sound a hum from the kitchen. The single light was in the kitchen, and its warm glow spilled onto the table in the dining area.
Patrick paused at the door to a room off the living room. Nathan was asleep on the bed in an uncomfortable-looking position. Cat was tucked into the curl of his waist.
“Looks like Nate has a friend,” Patrick said, a smile curving his mouth.
“Fickle animal,” she murmured. But she smiled, too.
They ascended the stairs in the dark, quiet house. As they neared the top, Darcy’s heart began to race. Earlier, when Patrick had taken her upstairs to choose a room, she’d picked what looked like Frankie’s old room. Patrick had glanced at her but hadn’t said a word.
Why had she been so foolish? She only had this one night left with Patrick. She wasn’t going to spend it sleeping in a room across the hall.
As they reached Frankie’s old room, she turned to face him. Patrick stood close enough for her to feel his heat, smell the faint scent of his aftershave.
The moment lengthened like a stretched rubber band. Finally, Patrick murmured, “Darcy?”
His breath stirred the hairs at her temple, making her shiver.
Making her want.
“Patrick.” She put her hands on his chest, felt his muscles tense beneath her fingers. “I don’t want to stay in Frankie’s room, after all.”
“Thank God.”
She touched his mouth, traced the seam of his lips. “I want to sleep in your room, Patrick.”
Without saying anything else, he opened the door and drew her inside.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
DARCY DIDN’T TURN on the light in Patrick’s room, and neither did he. The faint glow from the streetlight illuminated a double bed, an old dresser, a bookcase packed tight with books, and an old Chicago Cougars poster on the wall. Team pictures lined the top of the bookcase.
Suddenly nervous, she picked one up. It was a high school football team. All the players looked ridiculously young. “Which one is you?”
“That one.” He pointed to a grinning boy with windblown dark hair and a carefree expression on his face. It clearly had been taken before his parents died.
“Were you the star quarterback?” she teased. “Did all the girls chase after you?”
“I was a linebacker. I got to knock guys on their ass.” He took the picture out of her hands and replaced it. “And I went to an all-boys high school.”
“Bummer for you,” she said.
“I made up for it in college.” He turned her around. “Is that why you wanted to stay in my room? So you could look at my stuff and ask me about it?”
“No.” She swallowed. Gathered her courage. “I wanted to be with you tonight.” She wanted a lot more than tonight. But this was all they’d have.
He cupped the back of her neck and drew her closer. “I want to be with you, too,” he murmured.
He brushed his mouth over hers, and she wanted to fall into the kiss. Wanted to lose herself in him, forget everything but this moment. But she forced herself to move away from him.
“I’m sorry about last night,” she said. It was easier to say in the dark, silent room. “I wanted to tell you about my ex-husband. But I couldn’t. I wanted you to stay, too. As soon as you left, I wanted to call you back. But I...I was scared.” She still was.
“I know you were.” He brushed his finger across her mouth. “I was hurt. I wanted you to trust me. I know that’s hard for you.”
“If I could tell anyone, it would be you,” she said.
He cupped her face, stared down at her. “That’s enough for tonight.”
Shame rippled through her. He thought she’d open up eventually. Tell him everything. Instead, she was leaving. Sneaking away without even saying goodbye.
Her fingers were ghostly pale as she lifted her hands to unbutton his shirt. “I didn’t come here to talk,” she whispered. His shirt fell open, revealing the white T-shirt beneath. Leaving it, she let her hands drift down to his belt. Leather creaked and metal clicked softly as she unbuckled it.
Fabric rustled as she pulled down the zipper. The hard ridge of his erection beneath his black boxers brushed against the back of her hand, and she lingered for a moment. Curled her fingers around him.
His breath hitched, and she tugged his pants down his hips. Holding her gaze, he toed off his shoes and stepped out of them. Let his shirt flutter to the floor. Slowly, he pulled his T-shirt over his head and dropped it. Tugged his boxers off.
He stood in front of her, naked, letting her look. She put her hands on his chest, smoothed them over his ribs, his rock-hard muscles. Slid down until they hovered over his penis.
Slowly, she curled one hand around him. He sucked in a tiny breath, but he didn’t move.
He was hot. Silky smooth. Hard as granite. As she touched the broad head, his muscles tensed. But still he didn’t move.
“Is this okay?” she asked, suddenly worried. Before Patrick, sex had always been about the main event. Not this sensual exploration.
“Are you kidding me?” His face was taut, all hard angles and sharp lines. His eyes glittered in the faint light. “I’ve dreamed about your hands on me. Touching me.” He caressed her cheek, and she felt his hand trembling. “Go ahead and play, sweetheart.”
His voice was quiet. Tender, even though he clearly wanted to touch her, too. She’d never felt tenderness when she made love, and the softness in his eyes, the gentleness of his touch, made her shiver with need.
As she touched Patrick, it was as if all the ugliness in her past was wiped away. Desire sang through her veins, hummed in her nerves, made her hands tremble. She was finished playing. She took a step back and yanked her shirt over her head. As the slight illumination of the streetlight outlined her black bra, she tugged on the buttons at her waistband.
His hands closed over hers. “Let me.” He shook as he undid the buttons, opened the zipper. Stroked the back of his hand over the triangle of her black panties.
“Two can play this game, you know,” he murmured.
He knelt on the floor in front of her and removed her work pants, tossing them to the side. Then he cupped her rear, leaned in and kissed her belly. Went lower, until the heat of his mouth was at the juncture of her thighs.
Her legs couldn’t support her, and she clutched his shoulders and gasped, “Patrick!”
“You like this game, too,” he murmured against her. The vibrations from his mouth made her ache with need.
He backed her slowly toward the bed, yanked down the quilt, then eased her onto the crisp sheets. Took off her bra and panties, and stared down at her.
Fumbling in the nightstand drawer, he pulled out a condom, opened it and slid it on. Then he knelt on the floor in front of her, spread her legs and put his mouth on her.
“Patrick,” she cried. She arched into him, impossibly aroused. Desperate for him. But as she tugged on his hair, he ignored her pleas and kept kissing her. Loving her. As she coiled tighter, climbed higher, she panted, “Please, Patrick. Now. Please.”
He drew her into his mouth, and she crashed over the edge. Wave after wave of release rippled through her, then his mouth was on hers, swallowing her helpless cries as he slipped inside her.
Tension built again and she wrapped her legs around him, moving perfectly together. When he shuddered and whispered, “Darcy,” she joined him.
T
hey lay tangled together as her heart rate slowed and her breathing calmed. She buried her face in his neck and held onto him, inhaling his scent. Memorizing the texture of his skin, the shape of his shoulders.
“My name was Beth,” she whispered into his neck.
His hands stilled, then he kissed her.
“Thank you,” he murmured. “Thank you, Darcy.”
Finally, he cuddled her close and drew the covers over them. “I want to hold you all night,” he murmured. “Wake up with you in the morning.”
“Hmmm,” she said, pressing a kiss above his ear. “Me, too.”
“You’re safe,” he whispered. “You’re safe with me.”
She tucked her head against his shoulder and blinked away the tears that threatened. She knew she was safe with him. But he wasn’t safe with her.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING, Darcy woke up with sunlight on her face and Patrick spooned around her. His hand cupped her breast and her legs were tangled with his.
Contentment flowed through her in an endless, bubbling stream. She could stay like this forever.
Which meant she had to get out of bed. Sever this connection to Patrick before it was too late.
His steady, even breathing ruffled her hair and caressed her nape. She could allow herself another minute. A handful of seconds with him, to counter all the future mornings she’d wake up alone.
“Hey, Dar...Beth.” Patrick’s voice, drowsy with sleep, washed over her. He pressed his mouth to her neck. “Good morning.”
“Hey, yourself. And it’s Darcy. I’ll never be Beth again.” She spoke softly, trying not to break the spell. Wishing they were two different people, a couple who had many more mornings like this to savor.
His hand tightened on her breast, and she rolled over to face him. “I love how you smell in the morning,” he murmured. “Warm and soft and sexy.”
“I love how you feel,” she whispered, her hand drifting through his soft hair, then down his back. “All relaxed and cozy.”
“Not completely relaxed,” he said, moving his hips against hers.
She smiled into his hair. “I stand corrected.”
The Woman He Knows Page 22