“My”—he blinked—“kids?” He went ridged and Allie saw the light bulb blaze to life over his head. “Oh, shit, Allie. They’re not mine.” He spun her around easily, even though Allie’s heels were digging in—difficult considering she was wearing six-inch stilettos.
Wide green eyes bored into hers. “Allie, those are my brother’s kids. Stacy is my sister-in-law.”
“Stacy,” she whispered. The model had a name. “But the kids looked just like you.”
His fingers dug into her shoulders while his eyes narrowed. “Like my family, Allie. Like my mom, too.”
Her chest started to loosen its crush around her heart. Was he telling the truth? Damn it, this was so messed up. “You swear to God you’re telling me the truth,” she rasped.
Matthew’s face relaxed a little. “Yes.” His eyes closed. “Allie, yes.”
“Where was your brother, then?”
His face went pale and he swallowed. “He’s dead.”
“Oh.” Oh, geeze, why did she have to ask him all the wrong questions? “I’m sorry, Matthew.”
His throat clenched around his Adam’s apple. “It’s okay.”
Allie sucked in a shaky breath. “I’d like to meet them.”
His eyes tightened as he tried to pull out of the grief that had covered him so quickly. “Sure. Okay.” A small smile, then, “Stacy would love that, actually. She’s in town for a few days and won’t stop nagging me about doing something together.”
Allie felt her smile relax a little more as the last of her doubts finally dissipated. “Okay.”
“Okay?” He eyed her speculatively. “You’re okay? You don’t think I’m a cheating bastard?”
She laughed. “No.”
“Good, then. Come on.” He offered her an arm. “And I won’t even mention how you nearly got yourself run over just now.”
She rolled her eyes. “Not a word about it, huh? Good thing you’re not a control freak, stalker type that flips out about every little thing.”
His eyebrows rose while his mouth curled up with a whole lot of who-just-flipped-out-over-little-things? “Good thing.”
As she burrowed her hand into the crook of his elbow, he leaned into her, his lips brushing her throat. “By the way. I’d like to pull up that dress you’re wearing, bend you over this car, and take you till we both can’t walk.”
Oh, my.
***
Allie had no idea as to what Matthew would think constituted the word “date” in his book. She worried she’d end up skydiving or alligator wrestling or something. Okay . . . maybe not the alligator wresting, but she had worn the dress just as a precaution. Physical dare devil-dom was so not her forte.
Imagine her surprise when they ended up at a high end dance club in uptown Scottsdale. Matthew dancing was not an image she’d ever conjured. Punching Chuck Norris in the face or ripping out someone’s throat, sure.
This was going to be interesting; kind of like doing cartwheels on the ceiling.
They got a table in a secluded corner where the two of them could share some privacy. Matthew ordered a plate of oysters for them to share, along with a beer for himself, and a—what the hell—yager bomb for Allie.
When their drinks came Matthew’s lips lifted with his trademark half-smile.
“What?” Allie asked.
“You’re drinking.” He took a swig of his beer—regular American-crafted this time.
She eyeballed the darker liquor inside the golden Red Bull. “Why not?”
“You don’t like being out of control.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “I’ve given up on control since I met you.”
A frown pulled down the corners of his mouth.
“I didn’t mean that as a bad thing, Matthew.” She steepled her fingers to rest the tip of her chin over them.
How to explain?
Her lips pursed and her index finger slid to the rim of her glass. “I guess I haven’t really had a chance to be compulsive”—No, she shook her head, that wasn’t the right word—“Young,” she amended. “I didn’t get much of a childhood. My mom did the best she could, you know, being single. But her needs tended to override motherhood. She was lonely. Went through a lot of guys. She worked her tail off during the week. I only saw her for an hour at night when she was in-between shifts. But then on the weekends; well, she was out with her friends in search of Mr. Right.”
Allie paused to regard Matthew’s sculpted face. His lean cheeks and hard jaw; the perfectly proportioned nose slicing down to a set of full lips that could twist with cruelty or tenderness in a flash. And his eyes, so dark and brooding; darker still when he made love to her. She so, totally got why her mom had craved a relationship. A real one, with real companionship. Not just a companion, though, but a true partner. Someone who complimented your weaknesses with their own strength. And who you could share responsibility and trials with; joys and accomplishments. Both of you pulling and giving in perfect unity.
How could you go through life knowing the possibility was out there and never being able to find it for yourself?
“I never blamed her.” She sighed. “I wanted her to be happy. But . . . saying that, it left me alone. A lot. Homework, school dances; heartaches; insecurities; and awards. I did it all on my own. You could say it made me independent. But it also forced me to grow up fast. And to depend on only myself. If my world came down it was no one’s fault but my own. How it’s always been.”
She eyeballed her drink and her mouth pinched together. Without another word she tossed it back, eyes burning, throat burning, chest filling with heat and carbonation.
“Here’s to second chances. To freedom. Life and happiness.” Wow, her eyes were watering. And boy, did she know how to ramble. She leaned back in her seat and shut up, letting the liquor do its job and hopefully dissuade some of the humiliation that she was feeling from what she’d just said.
Matthew slipped out from the table and stretched his hand down to her. His eyes were a soft, mossy green. “Dance with me, Allie.”
Gladly.
She held on tight as he whisked her onto the dance floor and into a heated wave of gyrating bodies and pulsing music. Breathless as always, she wrapped her arms around his neck and knotted her fingers through the hair at the base of his skull. As he started to sway along to the rhythm of the music, his hand fanned over the base of her spine, fingertips brushing the top of her buttocks as he pressed her into his hips.
“Better.” His lips brushed against her ear and her whole body shivered. She was sure the two of them were making a disgusting scene for the PDA police, but she couldn’t bring herself to care; not with Matthew pressing against every inch of her, searing every cell to its boiling point. His jaw was smooth—freshly shaven—rubbing against Allie’s throat; smelling of the sharp bite of aftershave.
He flipped her around suddenly, so that he was now pressed into the groove of her backside. Knowing what he was capable of in this position, she wanted nothing more than to bend over and press herself into him harder.
Instead, Matthew’s hands forced her own above her head. His fingers skimmed up the sensitive skin of her arms, down the sides of her ribs, brushed the edge of her breasts, down the ridge of each hip bone, and lower still; all the while the rhythm of the music had their bodies rolling against each other while lights dappled the room in a rainbow of pulsing colors.
Trembling with desire, Allie looped her arms around Matthew’s neck. Thank goodness he had hold of her, because her legs were barely keeping her upright by this point, turned on as she was.
Those long, finely-trained fingers of his slid beneath the hem of her dress and ran along the lacy tops of her garters. A smile puckered his cheek against her shoulder. “Hmmm. I thought so.” His breath was hot against her skin, causing it to prickle. Then there was more nuzzling, more of his intoxicating smell, more of that swaying; it was almost too much.
When his perfect, sharp teeth clamped over her earlobe and his lips began to su
ckle her, she snapped.
She broke his hold on her, turned, and then kissed him for all she was worth. His lips were warm and soft; they opened to give her what she needed while at the same time, his smell filled her already dizzy head, intoxicated her more than any liquor ever could. His tongue delved into her mouth, stroking and tangling with hers, tasting a little of the beer he’d been drinking, but mostly of him. He possessed her mouth with his tongue like she prayed he’d do later with other parts.
“I need you, Matthew. Now.” She hardly recognized her own voice, low and throaty with hunger.
His gaze devoured hers, dark and hungry—a predator’s gaze. “Let’s go.” His fingers wrapped around her waist while he towed her toward their table.
As he peeled some twenties off his billfold, Allie’s teeth sank into her bottom lip. Damn, this man was a god. Wide shoulders, ridged with muscle, dove into narrow hips and an ass that made Allie’s mouth go dry.
He turned toward her and she jerked her head up from his fine, fine behind; cheeks heating. He pushed a stray lock of bronze hair off his forehead. “Ready?” his voice was filled with carnal promise that flowed over her like rich caramel.
How did he put so much meaning into just one word?
Allie swallowed. “I’d like to use the ladies room before we go.”
“Sure, baby.”
The facilities were tucked into a back hallway, removed from the throng of writhing bodies on the dance floor. When they reached their destination, Matthew’s phone began to vibrate and he quickly pulled it out of his pocket. “Go. I’ll be right here,” he whispered before turning away.
Allie walked inside, grateful for the chance to breathe a little and to gather together some of her scattered thoughts. Her forehead gleamed with a thin layer of moisture from the crowded dance floor. A deep, chocolate brown rimmed each of her lighter brown irises, making them pop out against the grey charcoal eyeliner that smudged around each eye. Smokey; that had been what Lainie had called the look. And Allie had to admire what she was looking at too; but then, she hardly could claim her own reflection. The woman on the other side of the mirror was beautiful. Sexy; sensual; a creature made for the Adonis who was waiting in the hall. Her skin was radiant and glowing.
This was the effect Matthew had on her.
This was what happened when you fell head over heels for someone.
Oh, boy.
She took her compact out of the small clutch she’d bought to go with the lingerie and quickly brushed on some light powder to take away some of the gloss over her face. Then she reapplied her lipstick and washed away any powder from her fingers. Finished, she dried her hands and headed back out to find Matthew.
She saw him immediately and smiled. He’d migrated down to the back of the hall, next to the emergency exit, one ear covered with his hand while he spoke into his phone.
As she started to walk toward him, her way was blocked. Grey eyes, rimmed red by much-too-much alcohol gazed down at her . . . boobs.
The man behind the leer was only a few inches taller than Allie, but the way he looked down at her, and the way he held himself sent the creepy crawlies skittering up and down her spine. Light brown hair was pulled away from a narrow face. Elastic held the hair in a douche-bag ponytail at the base of his neck. Stocky in a three-hours-per-day-gym-guy kind of way, his shirt pulled tight against his bulged-out chest and cobra shoulders.
“Hey there, sweet thing.”
Allie blinked up at him as fear coiled in her belly. “I’m looking for my boyfriend,” she mumbled and tried to get around the side of him.
His hand settled over her shoulders. “Come on, sweetness. I just wanna talk.”
She shrugged out of his hold. “Don’t touch me.” As her panic started to rise, her eyes went to the exit in search of Matthew. The hallway was empty.
Where was he?
“Hey. Don’t ignore me.” The man was back in her face. “What are you, some kind of cocktease?” He leaned in, pressed her into the wall as he used his mass against her.
“I said get off!” She shoved against his chest, but she may as well have been pushing against the wall at her back for all the good it did. Her hands slid down to her clutch and fumbled blindly for the cool metal cylinder of her pepper spray.
Thankfully, she didn’t need it.
Deadly calm, green eyes met hers over the dushebag’s shoulder. “She said no, asswipe.”
Matthew’s hand crushed over douche-bag’s shoulder and peeled him off of Allie.
“What the fuck, man?” Douche-bag swung out to knock Matthew’s grip loose. It was like watching Jason Borne go to work from then on out. Matthew’s arm swept up and sent dushebag’s arm flying in a wild pinwheel as he was knocked off balance. With the arms up and spinning, Matthew took advantage and sent a crushing fist directly into the guy’s solar plexus.
With a wheeze, douche-bag crumpled to the ground in a heap. Allie scuttled back as his hand flopped on the top of her shoe.
“Oh, crap. Did you kill him?” She gave Matthew wide eyes.
Matthew’s gaze dropped dispassionately to the man on the floor. “Naw. He’s just taking a nap.”
Allie released a breath. Thank goodness!
When Matthew’s eyes settled back on Allie the corner of his mouth curled up. “You know, some guys might think you’re a pain in the ass.”
Allie glared at him. “Some guys, huh?”
Matthew’s mouth turned into a full-out grin. “Yeah, but not me. You’re too damn entertaining.”
Mouth opening, Allie was planning on telling Matthew all the different ways he could go to hell, but he cut her off. “Come on. We’ve gotta get out of here. I had better plans for spending the night, other than sitting my ass in a jail cell.”
Chapter seventeen
Allie’s eyes dropped to the knotted fingers in her lap while a small smile played over her lips. They were in Matthew’s Escalade now, he sitting only a few feet across from her, the magnetism sparking between them in the dark as he turned out onto the main roadway.
In the background, Curt Cobain rasped about teen spirit.
Warmth muddled Allie’s thoughts, had her melting into the leather seat cushions.
Dude, I think I’m drunk, she mused. Had she ever been before?
“I love this song,” she said. It was so Matthew, too. All moody, angry, and sexy as hell.
“Nirvana,” Matthew said. “Best band ever.”
Allie nodded in agreement. “Best song ever.”
Matthew’s hand curled over Allie’s thigh and his palm brushed the gap of skin showing between her skirt and garters. Breath sucked between her lips when one, long index finger began to run back and forth. Boy, it was hard to think when he did that.
Green eyes met hers across the dark cabin. “You look amazing tonight.” His mouth tightened. “Don’t think I told you.”
Allie smiled, remembering the car comment from earlier. “Oh, you told me, alright. Just with a little more of your Matthew-y flair.”
His hand rubbed over the back of his neck. “Ahh, yeah. I’m not very . . . smooth. You probably deserve flowers and hearts and shit.”—he paused to glower down at his tightening grip around the steering wheel—“I’m not good at this dating stuff.” His face had turned a little redder shade than normal. His ears in particular.
Flowers and hearts and shit. . . Allie pried a hand from the steering wheel, hiding her quivering smile by pressing a kiss to its back. “I wouldn’t have you any other way, you know.”
A shadow settled over his face and he turned back to the road.
Why the sudden tension in him? Allie’s fingers tapped over her leg. She was bad at this stuff, too. Clearing her throat, she asked, “Where are we going now?” She wanted to pull him out of his gloom, smooth out the creases that marred his forehead.
“I’m taking you home.” His voice was soft.
Home? “Oh.” Her voice sounded hollow. Was the night really over? “Okay.” Why did th
e sting of rejection constrict in her throat?
What had she done wrong?
Her head buzzed from the alcohol earlier. Geeze, I’m such a lightweight. Her eyebrows crumpled as she tried to clear her head. She couldn’t think of a smart reply. Some way to keep her and Matthew together a little bit longer. Giving up, she said, “I probably need you to drop me off so I can get my car first. I don’t want it sitting out on the road all night.”
“You are not driving,” he snapped. Recovering himself, he softened his voice, “I already had someone pick it up and bring it to your house.”
Okay. She so did not need to know how he’d accomplished that one. The B and E skills knew no bounds, apparently.
“That’s good, I guess.” She fought not to wallow too much in self-pity.
Matthew looked over at her again, just as the music changed and Eddie Vedder was wondering where his baby had gone.
“Are you not comfortable coming home with me? I’ll understand.”
“What?” Allie’s thoughts screeched to a halt. “You mean . . . go to your home?”
“Yes.” Wary eyes locked on hers.
“Oh—oh! Yes! I mean, no . . .”—wait. Damn it; was it yes or no—“I mean yes, of course I’d love to see your home!” Her smile verged on the cheesy side, but she couldn’t help it. His home!
Lips lifted at their corners. “Okay, then.” His chest extended as he blew out a steady breath.
Excitement bubbled up inside Allie and she could have hugged herself from the joy of it. Finally she was going to see some of Matthew when he wasn’t kicking ass.
They pulled into a nice, upper-middle class neighborhood: all trimmed lawns and uniform mailboxes, with lots of parks and walking trails cut between the rows of cookie-cutter houses.
Wow.
So . . . normal.
One eye squinted at Matthew and she noticed that he was keeping his eyes focused out the window and his face blank.
Allie’s lips parted.
He was nervous!
Ha! She’d never seen him so . . . human before. Reaching over, she ran her fingers through the curl of hair on his neck. He’d need a haircut in another week or so.
Captured at Nightfall (Capture My Heart Love Story) Page 12