I tossed the bandage wrappers into the trash, then tapped her knee. “There, good as new.”
Slade inspected my handiwork and hopped off the bathroom counter. “Thank you,” she whispered, slipping through the door as if she couldn’t wait to put distance between us.
I followed her to the kitchen. She grabbed a bottled water out of the refrigerator and tossed it my way before getting one for herself. When she made her way to the couch, I couldn’t help but appreciate the softness in her glide and the way her hair swayed across her back. She fell into the brown leather and stretched her bare legs in front of her, plopping her heels on the knotty pine coffee table.
“Did you ever wonder what our parents were doing the day we met?” she asked, running a hand through her hair, pulling it away from her delicate face.
“No. I guess I haven’t. What I remember about that day is looking out my bedroom window and seeing a girl who was nothing but skin and bones and wild, golden hair jumping off my dock.”
“My mom told me to go play outside because she had an important meeting with Mr. Rossi. I was so excited when I discovered the stairs leading down to the dock. The water was still and clear. I thought since I could see the bottom, it was okay for me to jump in. I sunk like a rock, and I couldn’t breathe. I kept pushing off the bottom, trying to jump up for air. Then, there you were, pulling me to shore.”
“And there you were, this skinny little thing, coughing up lake water, clinging to me like a scared cat. I thought for sure you would start crying, but you looked at me with your enormous blue eyes and laughed.” I smiled at the memory. “Then you ran back onto the dock, did your funny dance, and jumped off again.”
Slade put her bottle on the table. “And you pulled me to shore again, yelled at me, and said I wasn’t allowed back on your dock until I had swimming lessons.” She turned sideways on the couch and tucked her toes under my thigh. “God I was a stupid kid.”
“Not stupid. Fearless.” And funny, and happy, and full of life, and so over the top beautiful, I’d felt I’d been struck by lightning. I remembered thinking, that day I first met Slade, that maybe she was lost, like a stray kitten, and that maybe, if I begged my parents hard enough, I’d get to keep her, take care of her.
“Anyway, back to our parents. When Mom came looking for me, she looked … weird. Scared even. And when she dragged me across your lawn and to your driveway, your mom was standing inside the front door with her suitcases, screaming at your dad in Spanish.”
“No shit,” I whispered.
“I told Mom I wanted to stay and swim with you, but she just yanked on my arm and walked faster.”
“You don’t think…” I couldn’t say the words. The thought sickened me. I raked a hand over the top of my head, recalling the events of that day. “That’s right. Mom had returned from Argentina three days early. I remember now. After she got back, she was pissed at Dad, and he left for a week.”
“That’s why your mom hated me so much.”
Slade may as well have punched a hole in my chest and squeezed the blood from my heart. “Damn. Why didn’t you ever tell me about this?”
“I only remembered today, when we were on the dock.”
“Dad couldn’t keep his dick in his pants if his life depended on it.” Unfaithful piece of shit. I refused to taint my evening with reminders of our parents’ ugliness. So, after a few deep breaths and some serious concentration, I buried the anger.
“Mom couldn’t keep a dick out of her pants,” Slade retorted, laughing. Fucking laughing. God, she was amazing.
If she could keep it light, so could I. “It’s a miracle we turned out so well-balanced, don’t you think?” I raised my bottle in salute.
She snatched her water from the table and bumped it against mine, offering a half-hearted smile. When she sighed, I thought I was about to lose her again, until she set her drink down and crawled into my lap.
I couldn’t keep up with my girl, but when she nestled her head against my chest, I didn’t care. I wanted nothing more than to enjoy her, feel her, breathe her in.
I tightened my arms around her curves, rested my cheek on top of her head, and closed my eyes, shutting out the world so I could focus on her scent, her silky hair, her soft body curled against mine.
Aside from Mom’s funeral, I hadn’t stepped inside a church since moving to New York. Hadn’t prayed much either, except before a fight. God and I were long overdue for a heart to heart. I offered Him what I had to give, and in that moment, it was gratitude, and the only words I could manage were thank you, thank you, thank you.
I pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Slade.”
“No talking, please. Let me absorb you for a while,” she mumbled into my chest.
I could give her silence. I’d brought her here to talk, but my desire to keep her between my arms outweighed my bullheaded need to unearth her secrets.
I wanted her to trust me with the truth, with her heart and soul, with her son, with her life.
I had no right wanting anything from Slade. I didn’t deserve her. I’d let too many guilt-filled years pass between us while I’d drowned in a world of anger, self-loathing, and cowardice. In spite of my mistakes, she clung to me, and I vowed to never let her go again.
“Okay. No talking.” I squeezed her harder, absorbing her, too.
This is good.
This is bad. I was a horrible person. A detestable, greedy, manipulative bitch. Tango was tender, and caring, and trying to make amends. And dear God, how I wished we could conquer the monumental fuck-up that was my life. I wanted, more than anything, to hold him tight and never let go.
I had to remember, it wasn’t about me, or my nonsensical fantasies. There was a bigger picture, and I had to keep a level head. To protect Rocky. To protect myself.
I fell asleep on Tango’s chest. He was warm, and hard, and safe. He was my home. But I never should have let him back in.
I woke to a heavy arm tucked around my waist and a warm hand cupping my breast. A wool blanket covered us. Minuscule dust particles danced and shimmied through the rays of sunlight pouring through the large windows of the cabin.
I yawned and stretched. My butt rubbed against an impressive erection. Tango pulled me closer. My insides warmed; my blood pressure spiked. I rolled off the couch. I couldn’t get into another touchy, feely, make-out session with him. I enjoyed it too much and the chemistry between us was too potent.
Tango mumbled under his breath and rolled over, pulling the blanket with him. He was beautiful. Dangerously so. I watched him sleep, holding my emotions at bay. When admiring him became too much to bear, I headed for the kitchen.
He woke when the coffee percolated, wafting its aroma through the cabin. When he stood and stretched, in all his shirtless glory, I turned away. My body buzzed and hummed at the sight of him. I wanted him on top of me—touching, kissing, biting. Making love.
I pulled mugs from the cupboard and poured us both a cup. Before I could turn around, he snaked his arms around my waist and buried his nose in my hair, blowing warm breaths against my ear.
“Mmm...” He moaned, pulling my ass against his groin. “Good morning.”
My knees weakened, and coffee sloshed over the rims of the cups. If he hadn’t held me so tight, I would’ve dissolved into a puddle on the floor.
“Sleep okay?” he asked, releasing me and taking one of the drinks from my hand.
I hadn’t slept that good in years. “I guess.” I turned to face him and shrugged. “Why didn’t you wake me up, make me go to bed?”
He lifted the coffee to his mouth and narrowed his eyes at me before taking a sip. He swallowed, then licked the moisture from his lips. “I couldn’t let go.”
I dropped my gaze to the floor, ashamed of leading him on the way I had. Tango hooked a finger under my chin, forcing me to look into his thoughtful eyes, reminding me why I had to continue my charade until I was able to leave town, leave him behind.
“Tell me you s
lept as good as I did.” He leaned forward and stole my breath with a soft kiss. He slid his hand over my jaw and around the back of my head, tangling his fingers through my hair, and bringing our foreheads together. “I know you felt it. Every time I moved, you curled into me, clung to me like you were afraid to let go.”
A sane woman would’ve chosen that moment to run like hell. Every second that ticked by, every touch and glance, every smile weakened my already pathetic resistance. Instead, I moved closer, seduced by the warmth and energy his body provided.
“We could sleep like that every night. Wake like this every morning. You just gotta let me in. All you have to do is ask. Please, say you want me. Say you’ll give us a chance.”
I did. I wanted him so badly my bones ached. Goddamn, why did life keep yanking the rug out from under me?
I took a deep breath, and a step away. “Are you going to fish the keys out of the lake, or am I?”
Tango’s shoulders bunched. He dropped his head, scratched at the stubble on his chin, then released a sigh before slamming his coffee mug into the sink.
He reached around me, slid open a drawer, and pulled out a set of keys. “No need to get wet. I have a spare.” Dangling them in front of me, he ordered, “Get your bag. Let’s go.”
Fire burned my gut. I wanted to rip him a new asshole, but what would be the point? I just needed to get home and away from the man.
We drove in silence for what seemed an eternity. I counted six times that his knuckles turned white with the force of his grip on the steering wheel.
When we stopped at the gas station, and Tango ran inside to pay, I snagged his phone off the dash, thumbed through his contacts and dialed the number I’d never thought I would have to call.
Carlos Rossi answered on the second ring. “Morning, T. What’s up?”
“Mr. Rossi. Um...” I cleared the nerves from my throat. “It’s Slade. Um. Slade Mason. Hi. How are you?”
“Surprised to hear from you.” Not a lick of emotion in his tone.
I swallowed the last of my pride. “I’m ready.”
“Those are the last words I expected to hear this morning. Are you sure?”
“Yes. How fast can we make this happen?”
“I have a few meetings to get through, but I’ll get on it as soon as my schedule is clear. I’ll have my lawyer call you this afternoon and set up an appointment.”
“Good. Good. Thank you. And Carlos, I’m sorry about Marta.”
“Are you?”
“Yes.” It was only half a lie.
“Slade?”
“Um, yeah?”
“Does your sudden change of heart have anything to do with my son coming home?”
“Does it matter? You’re getting what you want.”
“Fair enough. We’ll be in touch soon.”
“Tango doesn’t know!” I shouted into the phone, before he could hang up. “I’d like to keep it that way.”
Carlos cleared his throat. “That’s probably wise, Miss Mason.”
“Thank you.”
I ended the call and watched Tango walk toward the car with his innate confidence. Despite the perma-scowl, he moved in a way that incited lustful urges and suddenly the car was too hot. I shifted positions, squeezing my thighs together, ashamed of the throbbing sensation between my legs.
Tango folded into his seat and hooked his belt without looking my way. I shifted again and tucked my hands under my thighs to keep from touching him. Holy crap, I was a pressure cooker ready to blow.
He reached for the key and turned the ignition, highlighting the muscles in his forearm. When he wet his lips with a slow drag of his tongue, heat blasted my core, burning my cheeks, settling fierce and unrelenting between my legs. I scrubbed my hands over my face and tried to scrub the wretched desire away.
Dear sweet Jesus, what was wrong with me?
“What is wrong with you?” I killed the car and turned toward Slade.
“Nothing. Nothing. I’m fine.” Releasing a nervous laugh, she dropped her arms to her sides and feigned interest in a spot on the passenger window.
I was done with the bullshit. “I don’t fucking get you.”
Her head snapped my way, and she had the balls to look offended.
“Why are you fighting this so hard? You want me. I mean, shit, look at you. It’s in your eyes, your bright red cheeks, the way you’re clenching your fucking thighs together.” I didn’t give her time to come up with another lie. “You’re clinging to me one second, pushing me away the next. I’m getting whiplash trying to keep up.”
Slade’s fingers curled into her thighs. The red glow in her cheeks spread, reaching her chest.
Fearful of losing my shit, I sucked in a calming dose of oxygen. “Do you want to know why I came home?”
“To bury your mother,” she said with a snap, eyes wild, challenging.
The steering wheel made a cracking sound under the force of my grip. Swear to Christ, had she been anyone else, I would’ve knocked that spiteful glare into the next county. But she was hurting. Hiding. Protecting herself. So I dug deep and buried the rage.
“I hated the lies. The manipulation. The bullshit. New York was dark, and the women were hard. I missed your softness, your bright smile, but more than anything, your honest heart. There was never any of that crap between us.”
Slade wrapped her fingers around the door handle. Her breaths came rapid.
“I came home looking for my best friend. Didn’t care if you were married. Dating. In love. It didn’t matter. I just wanted that honest, pure connection again. I’ve never had that with anyone but you.”
“Don’t do this, Tango,” she mumbled.
“Now there is a huge fucking lie between us. You know how I feel about being lied to.”
“Leave it alone.”
“What are you hiding?”
Her chest rose and fell, and she pulled on the handle. I grabbed her wrist to keep her from bolting.
“I know if I slid my hand between those sweet thighs, I’d find evidence of how badly you want me. Why are you fighting it so hard?”
“Enough!” she screamed, unbuckling her seatbelt and turning in her seat. She pounded her fists into my chest. “I want you. I want you. Is that what you need to hear? I want you so much it’s killing me, but I am never, never letting you back in.” Slade poked a pointed finger into my forehead. “Get that through your thick skull. We will never be together. I hate you for what you put me through. You need to take me home. Our perverted reunion is over. Understand? I don’t want to see you again. Ever.”
As she released her frustrations in the confines of my vehicle, I watched the walls slam down around her. First, with the dimming light in her eyes, then in the straightening of her spine. Her signals hadn’t changed. When her giant heart needed protecting, she’d throw up the shields. Never had there been a need to put one between us, though. Until now.
We shared a stare down. Obviously, I wouldn’t break through her barricade any time soon.
Slade yanked on the door handle and exited the car. I let her go. We both needed a minute. Slade, to cool her jets, and me, to tame my raging boner. I was turned on by her feisty spunk, but more so by the challenge she unwittingly laid down. I’d decimate that wall if it killed me.
Arms crossed, Slade leaned against the front of the SUV. I knew she was itching to walk, but the parking lot was dirt and gravel, and without shoes, she wouldn’t make it far enough to burn off any frustration.
I heard the rumble of engines, felt the vibrations, before I noticed the gas station was filling up fast with one leather-clad gangster-on-wheels after another. Slade dropped her arms and froze in place.
“Get in the car, Slade. Now,” I ordered before realizing the windows were up and she couldn’t hear me.
With wild eyes, she scanned the Harley-riding motherfuckers, who, up until the point I tapped the horn to get her attention, hadn’t paid us any mind. Slade didn’t budge.
It was only a
matter of time before they noticed her. I wasn’t about to give them a chance to, either. If one of them liked what they saw, and they would, shit would get nasty. I couldn’t take down twenty psychos to defend my girl. I’d give it my everything, but the odds wouldn’t be in my favor.
I hopped out, dashed around the hood, and hooked my arm through her elbow, pushing her to the passenger side door. “Time to go.”
From behind, I heard someone yell, “Hey, Blondie,” followed by several loud whistles.
Fuck. Too late. I tucked her into her seat and hustled back to my own, wasting no time on a seatbelt or turn signal.
When we’d cleared a mile, and I was sure nobody had followed, my heart returned to its normal rhythm. Slade’s skin was three shades paler. Her hands trembled in her lap, and she seemed to fight for air. “Babylove,” I whispered, brushing her cheek with my knuckles. “You okay? You look like you saw a ghost.”
She licked her lips, swallowed hard, then nodded, shooting me a nervous glance. “I’m fine. I thought I saw someone I knew. False alarm.”
Voltolini conducted business with several MC charters on the East Coast. I knew too well what they were capable of. “Tell me you don’t know any of those criminals.”
“The only criminal I know is you, apparently.” Shoulders tense, she raised her thumb to her lips and gnawed on the corner of her nail.
That stung. I let it slide. I had been a lawbreaker. No point in arguing. The past was the past. Slade was my future, and I’d be whatever she needed me to be.
Right then, judging by her body language, she needed me to be quiet.
“DID YOU GET THE PACKAGE?” Setting my phone to speaker, I snapped it into the dock and turned the ignition.
“It’s in my hot little fingers as we speak,” Tito said, his voice gruff. If there was information to be procured, Tito Moretti was the guy to call. To him, my private job would be nothing more than a preschool game of connect the dots.
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