by Lori Foster
“No, I didn’t fucking push her! I don’t mistreat ladies!”
“Take it easy.”
“You take it easy!”
Justice laughed. Good thing Armie had forced that little talk on him or they’d be throwing punches right now. And where would that get him? He didn’t really suspect Tom, not anymore, but he wouldn’t entirely let him off the hook either, not until he found out what was going on.
“Relax,” Justice said. “Given the information I have, I had to ask.”
“I will not relax!” Tom practically heaved with fury. “How the hell would you feel if I accused you of doing something like that?”
“I’d be pissed.” Because Justice knew for a fact he’d never hurt a woman.
Tom threw up his arms in an “exactly” pose. “Going after your lady would be chickenshit.”
“Agreed.”
“I’m not chickenshit.”
Justice shrugged. Eventually Tom would understand that he wouldn’t get a qualifying fight in the cage, so maybe he thought to rile Justice by using Fallon. Would he be content with an old-fashioned beat down in private, out of the limelight?
“I’ll take you at your word,” Justice said.
“Well, hallelujah, you prick.”
“But stay away from Fallon.”
Justice’s attitude only infuriated Tom more.
Not that Justice cared. Because if it wasn’t Tom, he’d need to figure out who did push her—and why someone wanted Tom blamed.
* * *
A FEW HOURS LATER, when her mother checked in on her, Fallon pretended to be napping. She didn’t want her mother to see her swollen eyes. Tears were useless—she knew that, and she was now ashamed that she’d given in to them.
She had no intention of sharing her grief with her mother or father. It would only upset them. She’d learned years ago how badly they reacted to any show of sadness.
Keeping her eyes closed, Fallon expected her mother to turn around and leave—instead, she sat on the side of the bed and shook her.
“Fallon, wake up!”
The urgency in her mother’s tone startled her and she came up to an elbow before she thought better of it. “What? What’s the matter?”
Her mother got one good look at her and sat back in horror. “You’ve been crying!” She looked more closely, then gasped. “And dear God, you’re bruised!”
Rushing to reassure her, Fallon explained, “I fell, that’s all. I’m fine.”
Her mother scowled with accusation. “If you’re fine, then why have you been crying?”
No immediate answer came to mind, so Fallon stalled. “Why did you wake me, Mom? What’s wrong? Has something happened?”
As if only then remembering, her mother stood and said, “We’ll talk about your fall later. Right now you have to hurry. Justice is downstairs and he’s talking to your father.” She added with emphasis, “Alone.”
A dousing with ice water wouldn’t have been as shocking. “Justice is here?”
“Yes. He wants to see you, as well, but first he said he needed a private word with your father.”
No way. Fallon threw back the covers, stood, and then paused. Confusion warred with urgency. “Did he say what he wants?”
Her mother shook her head. “He didn’t, but he looks different and very determined, and he was insistent that he had to talk to Clayton first before I came to get you.”
Dejection made her chest tight. Justice was here to quit. Sinking back to sit on the side of the bed, Fallon folded her hands and concentrated on not looking lost. “I can’t interrupt them.”
“Why not?”
She sighed, searched for an out, but finally decided that she’d have to tell the truth. “I showed Justice my scars.”
Her mother’s eyes widened, then immediately softened. “And?”
“I don’t know.”
Her mother quickly sat beside her and took her hand. “Tell me everything that happened.”
It was beyond embarrassing, but Fallon needed someone to talk to, so she shared it all without admitting that Marcus had seen them first, or his reaction.
“Justice was silent all the way home.” Fallon drew a breath. “I think...I think he’s probably quitting.”
Her mother pushed to her feet. “Go down there and confront him. Tell him you deserve to know what he’s doing.”
“Mom! I can’t do that.”
“Oh, yes, you can, young lady!” She tugged Fallon to her feet, quickly smoothed her hair, straightened her now wrinkled clothing and stepped back. “There. Much better.”
Fallon knew that was a lie. She looked horrible. “Mom—”
“You will get yourself downstairs this instant, young lady. Rebecca Rothschild Wade’s daughter does not cower in her bedroom.”
Hearing her mom reprimand her like a schoolgirl, Fallon half smiled. “I’m not a child any longer.”
“Exactly. Now let’s go.”
Before Fallon could think of a way to dissuade her mother, she had the door open and was prodding Fallon into the hall. She was so emotionally distraught, it seemed easier to give in than to fight her mother.
In the end, what difference would it make if she heard from Justice face-to-face, or if her father had to explain things to her?
Halfway down the steps, raised voices caused Fallon and her mother both to pause. Justice and her father were arguing!
The men were in the dining room. Through the open archway, Fallon could see Justice’s profile—and his appearance further shocked her.
He’d shaved! Gone was the sexy scruff she liked so much; his goatee was now neatly trimmed. And...and his hair was cut short to the same length all over, eliminating his messy fauxhawk!
She blinked twice trying to take it in.
In his usual jeans, but with a black polo shirt that hugged his massive shoulders, he still looked gorgeous, yet also very, very different.
What did it mean?
And then she heard him say, “Quitting is the only option.”
Even though she’d expected it, the truth hit her so hard, she had to slap a hand to her mouth to keep from making a sound.
How had he come to mean so much to her in such a short time? Why had she so stupidly let that happen?
“I’m paying you,” her father insisted.
Above her hurt, Fallon’s pride rebelled. She would not let her father beg for Justice’s service.
“This is pointless,” Justice replied, just as irate. “Whether you pay me or not, I’m not budging. I’d be looking out for her anyway. It’s personal now, not business.”
Wait...what?
Trying to understand, Fallon gulped in air. How could he be her bodyguard if he quit? She glanced at her mother, and found her smiling. Even more confused now, Fallon turned back to stare at Justice.
“You say that like it’s your decision,” her father barked. “Fallon has some say in this, too, you know.”
“I’ll convince her.” Justice folded his arms in what she now recognized as an arrogant and determined stance. “And since I’ll be dating her, it’d be ludicrous for you to pay me as a bodyguard.”
Dating her?
Before she fell down the steps in an ignominious heap, Fallon hurried down the rest of the way. “What’s going on? Justice, what are you talking about? Why are the two of you shouting?”
Justice turned fast, saw her face and scowled. “What happened to you?”
Her father pushed rudely past him. “You’ve been crying.”
“Crying?” Justice repeated. Then he glared at her father. “You made her cry?”
“Me?” He glowered right back. “I’ve only just gotten home!”
Her mother said, “I believe it was you, Justi
ce, who did the damage.”
“Mother!” Fallon knew a blush would add nothing to her ravaged appearance. She was such an ugly crier. With the very first tear her nose turned red, her eyes got puffy and blotches marred her cheeks.
“Dear God.” Slowly, her father stepped closer, his gaze examining her face. With blood in his eyes, he pivoted to face Justice. “How did she get bruised?”
Fallon couldn’t believe the level of accusation in her father’s tone. “I fell down some steps, Dad, that’s all.”
“You fell?” he asked, incredulous.
“Yes, and it’s absurd for you to act like Justice had anything to do with it.”
“It is partially my fault,” Justice said, willingly taking blame. “I should have had hold of her—”
Her father gaped at him, maybe because he didn’t want Justice holding her.
Before this debacle could get any worse, Fallon redirected a frown at Justice. “We should talk privately.”
He shook his head, refusing her, then wagged a finger from her to himself and back again. “Something’s going on between us. You know it as well as I do. I’m trying to be upfront with your folks about it.”
Furious, her father said to her, “He took advantage of you, made you cry, allowed you to get hurt and now he wants to quit.”
Her mother said, “Hush, Clayton. Let them talk.”
“He wants to talk about dating her!”
“Yes, I know.” Unlike her father, her mother sounded pleased.
“He is completely unsuitable—”
“That’s enough!” Not about to let her dad interfere, Fallon huffed out a breath. “Justice did not take advantage of me, falling was my own fault and if he wants to quit, well—” It would break her heart, but she didn’t want to guilt him into staying.
Justice took a step toward Fallon. “I know it shouldn’t have happened, honey. On every level it was wrong. But I’m already more than a bodyguard and we both know it. I’m tired of being hampered by ethics.”
“Of all the—”
“Clayton,” her mother snapped, her voice shrill, “I told you to hush!”
He clamped his mouth shut and settled on an evil scowl.
Justice and Fallon both ignored her parents.
“I’ll talk to my boss tomorrow, tell her how I screwed up and accept the consequences there. But understand, Fallon, regardless of anything else, you’re stuck with me.”
“Stuck with you?” She had a hard time taking it in.
“Yeah.” He came closer still. “Whether Sahara blackballs me out of the industry, or your dad kicks my butt to the curb, even if you don’t want to see me on a more personal level, there’s no way in hell I’m going to let anything happen to you.”
Her mother sighed happily.
“You can’t just shadow her,” her father barked. “It’s absurd.”
Justice touched her face, skimming his fingers over her bruise. “Why were you crying?”
No way would she explain it to him now, not with her parents both watching so avidly. “Would you step outside with me?”
He nodded. “After you tell me I can quit our business association and move on to a personal relationship.”
Her teeth locked. She did not appreciate the forced confrontation.
“I want you protecting her,” her mother said, smoothing over the moment. “Especially with that confusion the other night.”
“Confusion?” Her dad jumped on that. “What confusion?”
“I’ll explain in a minute,” her mom said to soothe him before turning back to Justice. “However, I agree with Clayton. We must continue to pay.”
Justice took a hard stance. “I’m not accepting your money.”
“You,” her father snapped, “signed a contract!” Then he stomped away.
“There, that’s settled.” Fallon’s mother hugged her, and surprised Justice by hugging him, too. “I’m so pleased.” She turned and went after her husband, already detailing the issue with the paint, the added camera on the driveway and Justice’s concerns.
Justice cursed low, his demeanor rife with frustration. “Your parents are going to be really disappointed when things don’t go their way.”
Fallon’s heart tripped with uncertainty and with...hope. “Meaning?”
“I won’t take money to be with you. It wouldn’t be right.” He stared at her intently, his voice going gruff. “Ah, babe, I can’t bear to see you cry.”
“I’m not.” Not anymore, though she knew she still looked hideous.
His fingers brushed over her cheek. “It hurts that much?”
“I’m not a wimp.” Insulted, she attempted to explain. “It wasn’t the fall. It’s just that I thought...the way you brought me home, and you were so silent, I wasn’t sure...” She sighed. How could she find out what was going on if she couldn’t even finish a coherent sentence? Everything felt so awkward. She detested making a fool of herself. She detested the idea of not seeing Justice.
She detested being a coward.
As if it were the most natural thing in the world, Justice gathered her into his arms and pressed his warm mouth to hers, lingering for several seconds. His hand cradled the side of her face, his touch so incredibly gentle.
“I don’t understand,” she finally said, and to get to the point, she stated, “You saw my scars.”
“Yeah, I saw them.”
His matter-of-fact acknowledgment only bewildered her further. “I have more,” she thought to remind him. “On my leg from the donor site and—”
“I know.” His hands, so big and hot—she loved his hands—stroked up and down her back while his breathing went deeper. Against her lips, he murmured, “I want to see that one, too.”
All but smothering in confusion, Fallon stared up at him. “Why?”
“They’re a part of you, and every part of you fascinates me.” He kissed her again, stroked her bottom lip with his tongue, then lightly tugged on it with his teeth.
“Justice...”
Almost in accusation, he said, “You opened your top and I got hard, babe. I hate that you were hurt. I wish I could take the memories from you. But damn, did you really think a scar or two would matter so much?”
Of course she did, because the scars had mattered to everyone else. They obviously repulsed Marcus, despite his current regret and assertions that they didn’t. Seeing them still made her parents weepy. And the memories associated with them... She swallowed hard, nodded and said, “Yes.”
He gave her a small, sexy smile. “I’m just a man, and anytime a gorgeous woman starts opening her top, I react.” Voice even lower, he confessed, “If I hadn’t gotten away from you, I’d have done things ass-backward, shaming the agency and myself.”
“What do you mean?”
His hands went suggestively to her hips as he looked down her body. “If you’d dropped your pants...” His nostrils flared with a deep breath, then he half laughed as he let it out. “It’s a fact I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you.”
So even after seeing the disfiguring marks on her, marks that spread out to one of her breasts, he still wanted her?
“I’m trying to be honorable and upfront,” Justice asserted. “That’s what you deserve.”
Fallon really needed clarification. “You weren’t...” How did she ask him? “That is...”
His mouth took hers again, a little hungrier, a little less restrained. When he pulled back, he rasped, “You’re killing me here, honey.”
She blurted, “You want me to believe the scars didn’t bother you at all?”
“They almost leveled me.” He closed his arms around her, hugging her in close to his broad chest. “If I could somehow go back in time and take the hurt for you, I swear to God I would.” Leverin
g her back again, he gave her a look so serious, so stern, she held her breath. “But in no way did they make me want you any less. Hell, I’m not sure anything could.”
Fallon thought of the scars, of what he’d seen and how he’d reacted, and she badly wanted to believe him.
His dark eyes stared into hers. “Tell me you want me, too, and I promise I’ll prove it to you.”
She nodded in quick confirmation. “I do.” As soon as the words left her mouth, heat filled her cheeks. That sounded far too much like an acceptance of marriage. “I mean—”
Smiling, Justice gave her a quick smooch. “Too late to take it back now.” He smoothed a hand over her hair. “We need to get going if we want to make it to Cannon’s on time. You about ready?”
Oh, good grief! “We’re still going there?”
“You don’t want to?”
“I do!” Damn it, she’d said it again. “I just thought—”
“A bunch of nonsense, that’s what you thought.” His gaze moved over her, but he didn’t seem repulsed by the signs of her tears either.
Apparently, nothing bothered him.
“I’d like you to get to know the guys even better, and their wives will be there again. You like everyone, right?”
“Yes. They’re all very nice.”
“They’re the best.” Obviously relieved, he brushed a thumb over the corner of her mouth and asked, “You ready to go?”
Fallon loved how he kept touching her, like he couldn’t resist. He made her feel pretty, when she knew she currently looked wretched in every way possible. “No, of course I’m not ready.”
As if he really didn’t see it, Justice asked, “Why not?”
She had to laugh. He was such an elemental male, so accepting, that he lightened her world just by being in it. “I’m a total wreck, Justice, that’s why. I have to change my wrinkled clothes and repair my face and...”
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered.
Those words were so soft and earnest, she could have sworn her heart melted. “Justice—”
“Every part of you, Fallon.” Looking and sounding utterly sincere, he teased her lips with a butterfly kiss. “I’m going to keep saying it until you believe it.”